In my reflections, if a bona fide member of the academy comments that my reflection contains either an original thought or argument, I will note it in that reflection. Also, if it is brought to my attention that what I have said is also mentioned in another source, I will also note it. My intention in these reflections is to stimulate inquiry, imagination, and broadening of horizons.- JP

Note: The most recent reflection is at the top and my first is at the bottom. You can either start at the bottom of the well and swim up or start at the top and dive in, your choice. – JP

13 Hours           

Reflection on ‘Still Alice’ by Lisa Genova – 06/27/2011

A good friend and food purveyor encouraged me to read this book. OK, she really promised me a smoothie and muffin if I would let her know what I thought about it. Food; encouragement; they go together. Anyway…

If you have not had any one in your family, a friend, acquaintance, or some one you know of who is experiencing Alzheimer’s, read this book so you will be prepared when you do meet Alzheimer’s face to face. The beauty of this book is the way the disease and its effects on patient and family are presented.

In total opposition to a clinical presentation of this subject, you will experience knowing moments, tears, and laughter ending up with an appreciation for and ability to encounter Alzheimer’s and all that goes with it. It would have been nice if this book would have been available before I encountered my first Alzheimer’s hospice client and came across as a complete idiot. At least I kept my hands warm while I sat on them.

This book is a pair of warm gloves for your hands, hot tea for your heart and new neurons for your head.

P.S. I’m not getting anything from Lisa for this reflection unless she gets to Sandpoint and Barb and I get to take her to dinner.

They said what? On second thought, maybe… 06/12/2011

Earlier this year, a very good friend died. I was privileged, honored and humbled to officiate at the funeral and celebration of life with the family. But, as with any momentous time in life when we want every detail to go perfectly, something always creeps in to bring you up short.

A good friend of the family went to great lengths to write an obituary which would relate the essence of an extraordinary life. My friend requested to be scattered on the family property and this is where the “something” starts to creep in. The obit was emailed to the local paper and published on the day of the funeral. The sentence, “The ashes will be scattered on the family property” was printed as “The ashes will be scatted on the family property”.

Now for those of you unfamiliar with wild life terms and do not have bear, elk and moose walking across your front yard or down the main street of town ala Northern Exposure, “scat” is the polite company word for wild animal poo. I admit that my first reaction was to wonder why the publisher and editor of the paper are not walking the main street of town in sack cloth and ashes with bags over their heads wearing sandwich boards which read; “We don’t know what we are doing”, however, upon further reflection…

If, after the ashes are appropriately committed, eventually consumed and recycled by one of God’s wild creatures, I have to ask myself, is that really something to worry about? That thought leads me to reflect on the one phrase which I alter for Ash Wednesday and one of the prayers in the funeral service, “dust to dust”. I do not alter it because of theological hubris or an extraordinary esoteric argument, I alter it because of what a four year old sage said during an Ash Wednesday service.

During the service there is the “Imposition of ashes” when the priest dips their finger in a bowl of ashes which come from burning the previous year’s palms from Palm Sunday and says, as they make the sign of the cross on peoples’ foreheads with the ashes, “you are dust and to dust you shall return”. At this particular service, I came to the four year old only to have him pull away and give me “the look”. His mother brought him to me after the service to have him explain why he did not want the ashes on his forehead. He looked me right in the eyes and said defiantly, “I’m no dust bunny!” Back to the metaphor and symbol board.

So if we are not dust bunnies, what are we and where did we come from? Now if you are a dyed in the wool creationist and obviously have read this far, I hope you continue, but if you quit after the next sentence, I understand. After a lot of reading, conversation, contemplation and prayer, I believe that we come from star dust and to star dust we will return.

I believe we are the product of the conscious thought of God, as is the universe in which we exist, and there is no separation. As to the mechanics of how we were formed, whether it was from mud or mind, let it be. The first particles that appeared formed stars and all that surrounds them. The planets formed from the cooling material. And God decided to play in the mud puddles. Mud puddles that came from star dust. Some of my most fun memories are of playing in mud puddles and walking away with only one shoe arm in arm with my best friend laughing all the way home.

So, whether you decide to be buried in a concrete vault, buried at sea, cremated and have your ashes spread, sent out to sea in a flaming boat, laid on a platform exposed to the elements and consumed by God’s wild creatures, or sent into space to eventually crash into the sun, you are from star dust and to star dust you shall return, except for your conscious being, and that’s another reflection. As for my friend, being “scatted” fits into the Cycle of Life. Hey, I think there is a musical somewhere in there!

Ritual: Icon or Idol? 05/09/2011

During my first trip to The Gambia, while climbing to the top of a hill to watch the sunrise, one of the group, who is a travel reporter and has seen many, many slides said,”If you’ve seen one sunrise, you’ve seen them all”.

On the way back to the boat I heard, “about the comment I made earlier about sunrise, I may not have been entirely correct”. I responded, “Yea, it’s the same when people say to me, ‘When you’ve seen one church, you’ve seen them all’, which led us into a discussion about the rituals we all have in life.

All of life is based on ritual, from the minuscule to the majestic. Not sure? Do you brush your teeth before or after you shower, and why do you repeat the order day after day? Is your spiritual practice free form or rigid? Does the last question make you feel uncomfortable? Rituals, and how we conduct them, especially spiritual rituals, go to the core of our being.

In my first theology class in seminary, we read “The Myth of the Eternal Return” by Mircae Eliade. One chapter about rituals and how exact they need to be for some, gave the example of the shaman conducting a ceremony which had been handed down for generations. All the words, movements and paraphernalia had to be exact. In this particular instance, the lighting of the open fire was the culmination of a days long ritual intended to bring fertility to the land. At the moment of the lighting of the fire and the incantation of the words, a frog appears from nowhere and leaps over the fire to the chagrin of all attending. Oh well, back to the beginning or it won’t work!

The afternoon of that class session, I was shopping at the local wine merchant and came across a bottle of “Frog’s Leap” wine, an obvious competitor to Stags Leap. I bought the bottle, gave it to my professor and heard he put it on a shelf in his private library and never opened it.

And for those of you who say that is exactly why you left a regimented church for a non liturgical setting, consider this. What would happen if the moderator of your non liturgical church arbitrarily changed the order of events at your gathering?

We need ritual, elaborate or not, we need ritual. The object of the exercise is to maintain the ritual as authentic to the spiritual quest. When the ritual, and not the quest, becomes the object of adoration or veneration, I propose that the ritual has become an idol that cannot withstand frogs. And why does that happen?

When we think we have got it all right. When the ritual is exactly correct and the meal that comes with it is just right…

God jumps on the chair next to us at our meal and asks … Would you like monkey poo with that?

The Door of No Return – Easter 2011

I made my first trip to Africa last February, Senegal and Gambia, with the main part of the trip up the Gambia River to the last British outpost during the slave trade which is now the Governor’s seat for that province. Although the main purpose of the trip was to see the wildlife of the Rivers of West Africa, (Trans. take lots of bird pictures), we did go to Goreé Island and see one of the slave houses. There are actually seven slave houses on the island, but not all of them are shown to tourists. Walking the short hallway to the “door of no return” is an experience. For some, they get a sense of the spirits of those who passed through, I, however, did not get a sense of the spirits, but got the feeling of what must have been going through the minds of those who walked through the door. Some back ground first.

History tells us that somewhere between 15 to 20 million people were put on slave ships from Goreé Island. What I learned from our guide was that in addition to those who got on the ships, six million killed themselves by jumping off the gangway into the sea. And although Alex Haley may have embellished some of the facts in Roots, the most moving moment was passing by James Island, just renamed Kunta Kinte Island by Gambia, near the mouth of the Gambia River. What made it moving was the realization that Kunta Kinte could see his village, where he had been captured, from the slave house on James Island, knowing that he most likely would never get back to the village again. Slaves were offered their freedom if they could swim the four miles to shore. None of those who tried made it, crocodiles!

Once on Goreé, a slave spent around two weeks sitting naked on a dirt floor chained to twenty-four other men and moved out once a day to pee and crap on a designated plot of ground. When the ship arrived, you got moved from the dark room to the bright light of the small courtyard into the dark hallway with the arched doorway at the end which is so bright that you cannot see any features, just a bright white light. As you pass through the archway, this is it, either a walk on the wooden pier to the ship, or the plunge into the surf breaking on the rocks where the sharks have grown in population because of the new food source. Which brings me to Jesus’ penultimate words from the cross.

I have been trying to write this reflection since February, but could never break through the “get ‘er done” barrier. When I went to an Easter Eve service, I found out why. The service was a presentation of the words of Jesus from the cross. The second to last words, the penultimate for you ANGLOPHILES, are, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me”? These words manifest fear and trembling in preachers who have to condense the theological discourse of years into ten minutes for a sermon given to people who only show up twice a year and really don’t want to consider the possibility that Jesus had any doubts. However, …

This was when I got the connection between Jesus and the slave walking through the door. For the slave who plunged from the pier into the sea, I imagine the emotions could have ranged from, “the pain of death is more acceptable than the unknown pain waiting on the ship” to “I am not going to let anyone use me for less than I am, you don’t get to take me!” Likewise, “My God…” can be seen as the ultimate expression of confusion and/or doubt, or the ultimate fist pump of defiance, but only if you leave it there. Read ALL of Psalm 22.

For the slaves that got on the ship I imagine the emotions ranged from one of hope that whatever lay ahead, it would be better than the sharks, to one of defiance that I will do whatever it takes to not let these people make me less than I am. Was Jesus calling on Elijah or letting us know that no matter how strong your faith may be, we are all subject to the possibility of experiencing that moment when it all seems to be no more than a plot of ground outside a slave house? For me, the answer comes at the end of the psalm. God does not leave us. God did not abandon the slave who plunged into the sea, God did not abandon the slave who got on the ship, and God does not abandon us when we voice despair. Why?

I believe we are products of the conscious thought of God, and as such, are inextricably connected to God. We cannot break that bond and neither can God. We can try to separate ourselves from God, which doesn’t really work out too well, or we can, like Jesus, allow ourselves to acknowledge moments of despair and in that acknowledgment, end up praising God for not abandoning us. Easter is about God letting us know that we have nothing to fear. Easter is about knowing that even while experiencing the most gruesome of moments, they are not the end.

I may yet encounter my ancestors in spirit or visions as I continue on my spiritual journey or I may get to hold the hand of a slave walking on that pier. Whatever needs to come my way will as it will be for you and because of Easter, it won’t be and end.

Response to a Request 01/21/2011

A friend who is working on a book asked several people to submit their thoughts on passing on wisdom to people younger than they are. The form of the submission is a letter to your children. This presents a situation because we do not have children. However, I have, on occasion, actually carried on conversations with people younger than eighteen and would say it this way in a letter.

Dear (enter name here),

Thank you for asking. I find it a daunting prospect to “pass on wisdom” in a letter short enough to be readable and not filled with clichés and also not come across as a “how to” checklist. I can also foresee my response could come across as to esoteric, enigmatic or obtuse. Be that as it may, here goes!

I see wisdom as an ongoing process. Gaining wisdom or discovering it is what life is. The best approach I have found is to always be open. You will not always agree with or understand what you hear or discover, but that does not mean that what you encounter is not valid. Deciding what you do with the information is gaining wisdom.

I believe we all live by our choices. I also believe if our choices are going to lead us into wisdom, we need to be consistent in how we live. The two guidelines I use are the stuff of cliché. “Do to others as you would have them do to you” is a guideline I do not restrict to only people. Do to Spirit, Earth, animals, parents (and mothers-in-law) as you would have them do to you. Continually engage your spiritual component.

When you begin to unpack the possibilities of those two guidelines, I am sure you will discover that the unpacking is never ending, like my garage, but is how you live into wisdom.

Also, no matter what, there is always something to smile about in what you discover.

Smile a lot.

Epiphany 01/06/2011

On the second Sunday of Christmas this year, I listened to a sermon in which the preacher bemoaned those who take twelve days to celebrate Christmas. It was a great sermon, but caused me to leave immediately after the service to redirect the truck delivering the eight Belted Galway Guernseys and the van with the eight maids and their buckets. So much for that Christmas present! However, what was said about Epiphany is well worth repeating.

Well before Christmas became the norm for holiday celebration, Epiphany was celebrated as the day next to Easter considered most holy for those who believe in Jesus. It was a recognition of that “Aha” moment when the visitation of the Magi spoke to the world of a complete change of relationship with God. I also believe, as the preacher I mentioned does, God incarnating as Jesus of Nazareth was not a “coming down” but a “drawing to” of humanity. God, Consciousness, Source, however you want to term the concept, added a new dimension to the Creation. “I feel your pain” (said with a slight southern drawl and raspy voice) has become a cliche, but does accurately describe what God now feels that God did not experience prior (apologies to Brian) to incarnating as a human. So what has this got to do with celebrating the Twelve Days of Christmas?

Several years ago, I became frustrated with Christmas ending with the 25 minute present orgy. It seemed so anti climactic after the joyous build up to have it end so quickly. I was relating my feelings one day in a clergy gathering and the Rabbi told how Chanukah is celebrated. You start with a small gift on the first day, a successively larger gift on the following days and on the eighth day you get the Jaguar. Haven’t got the Jaguar yet, but Barb and I did start a new tradition the next Christmas. We give one gift each day for the twelve days. They aren’t always larger, but it does lessen the post 25 DEC let down. AND, the unexpected benefit was over the years we realized we were building the anticipation of celebrating Epiphany. I can imagine the early Christians began to celebrate the time between the Winter Solstice as a time of anticipation culminating in a celebration of God’s incarnation.

Added to Epiphany is also the celebration that it is only three months till the boat goes in the water for the Summer. Happy Epiphany!