Sunday, September 23, 2007
Spiritual horticulture
What's your spiritual taproot? Where did it all begin? Where do you return in your mind and heart when you need to get back to basics?
Mine: The instant I looked up at Mama ER, as I considered stepping out into the aisle and going forward at the Invitation of the Southern Baptist Church of my upbringing. I was 8.
[Invitation: 1. the summons at the end of a sermon for sinners to accept Jesus Christ as personal savior; often powerfully and emotionally argued; 2. the hymn sung at the end of the sermon during the singing of which sinners are asked to come forward and accept Christ; "Just As I Am" is a classic Southern protestant invitation hymn. For a glossary of other standard rural, mostly Southern terms surrounding church practice, go here to a site of the University of the South, in Sewanee, Tenn.]
I felt called, in my 8-year-old way. I looked up and into Mama ER's eyes, and she looked back, right into my eyes -- and her eyes were full of love but utterly devoid of any direction whatsoever.
I stepped out -- and I've been called, and I've stepped out in response, during good times of faith and bad times of doubt, ever since, some 35 years.
That's my taproot. But my faith, like bermudagrass, has rhizomes that extend horizontally and send out their own roots.
Among my secondary spiritual roots are 1., the exposure to different denominations and Christian faith traditions I encountered as a local Gospel radio announcer right out of high school; 2., the deeper faith that came to me in college in a class on the history and literary aspects of the New Testament; 3., living with and loving a recovering drug addict-alcoholic; 4., learning to appreciate how architecture, and other art made by human hands can be acts of worship and foci of spiritual communion, while attending a big "downtown" United Methodist church in Texas; 5. the United Church of Christ "Bouncer" ad; 6., the images I saw on my TV in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, which led me to repent of indifference I'd developed concerning those less fortunate than myself.; 7., joining a United Church of Christ church in July 2006; 8., and, as hard as it is sometimes, the present unpleasantness of having my home, roots and heart in Oklahoma and my wife and uncertain future in Colorado.
Yourself? :-)
Call to Worship today at First Congregational Church of the United Church of Christ, Boulder, Colo.
Leader: Sower of living hearts, sower of tenderness, sower of courage, sower of service, sower of prayer, sower of light.
People: Lord, come, sow within us!
Leader: Sower of gifts, sower of forgiveness, sower of faith, sower of joy, sower of life.
People: Lord, come, sow in the hearts of all people!
Leader: Even as we are hard as stone, dry as desert, thorny as weeds.
All: Make within us fertile soil so that we may grow abundantly in faith and in love.
Scripture reading:
Mark 4: 2-9.
Welcome to New Members (could be local, could be UCC language, don't know, but Amen to it!)
We then affectionately receive you as members of this United Church of Christ. We bid you welcome not as a congregation of the sinless but to a fellowship of those who in their human weaknmess look to God through Christ for strength. We pray that by loving and being loved, through serving and being served, you and we together may be undergirded by a communion in which there is concern for one another; and that through our common witness this church may faithfully serve the realm of God.
--ER
Mine: The instant I looked up at Mama ER, as I considered stepping out into the aisle and going forward at the Invitation of the Southern Baptist Church of my upbringing. I was 8.
[Invitation: 1. the summons at the end of a sermon for sinners to accept Jesus Christ as personal savior; often powerfully and emotionally argued; 2. the hymn sung at the end of the sermon during the singing of which sinners are asked to come forward and accept Christ; "Just As I Am" is a classic Southern protestant invitation hymn. For a glossary of other standard rural, mostly Southern terms surrounding church practice, go here to a site of the University of the South, in Sewanee, Tenn.]
I felt called, in my 8-year-old way. I looked up and into Mama ER's eyes, and she looked back, right into my eyes -- and her eyes were full of love but utterly devoid of any direction whatsoever.
I stepped out -- and I've been called, and I've stepped out in response, during good times of faith and bad times of doubt, ever since, some 35 years.
That's my taproot. But my faith, like bermudagrass, has rhizomes that extend horizontally and send out their own roots.
Among my secondary spiritual roots are 1., the exposure to different denominations and Christian faith traditions I encountered as a local Gospel radio announcer right out of high school; 2., the deeper faith that came to me in college in a class on the history and literary aspects of the New Testament; 3., living with and loving a recovering drug addict-alcoholic; 4., learning to appreciate how architecture, and other art made by human hands can be acts of worship and foci of spiritual communion, while attending a big "downtown" United Methodist church in Texas; 5. the United Church of Christ "Bouncer" ad; 6., the images I saw on my TV in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, which led me to repent of indifference I'd developed concerning those less fortunate than myself.; 7., joining a United Church of Christ church in July 2006; 8., and, as hard as it is sometimes, the present unpleasantness of having my home, roots and heart in Oklahoma and my wife and uncertain future in Colorado.
Yourself? :-)
Call to Worship today at First Congregational Church of the United Church of Christ, Boulder, Colo.
Leader: Sower of living hearts, sower of tenderness, sower of courage, sower of service, sower of prayer, sower of light.
People: Lord, come, sow within us!
Leader: Sower of gifts, sower of forgiveness, sower of faith, sower of joy, sower of life.
People: Lord, come, sow in the hearts of all people!
Leader: Even as we are hard as stone, dry as desert, thorny as weeds.
All: Make within us fertile soil so that we may grow abundantly in faith and in love.
Scripture reading:
Mark 4: 2-9.
Welcome to New Members (could be local, could be UCC language, don't know, but Amen to it!)
We then affectionately receive you as members of this United Church of Christ. We bid you welcome not as a congregation of the sinless but to a fellowship of those who in their human weaknmess look to God through Christ for strength. We pray that by loving and being loved, through serving and being served, you and we together may be undergirded by a communion in which there is concern for one another; and that through our common witness this church may faithfully serve the realm of God.
--ER
Comments:
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And on a lighter note, we're going here for supper:
http://www.redlionrestaurant.com/
Trout appetizer, wild game sausage appetizer, either trout or elk ribeye entree; Dr. ER plans a baked polenta and grilled veggie entree.
http://www.redlionrestaurant.com/
Trout appetizer, wild game sausage appetizer, either trout or elk ribeye entree; Dr. ER plans a baked polenta and grilled veggie entree.
Spriritual tap root, yep had one once.
How agricultural.
I was a farm boy too.
Mine got started down at a little country Southern Baptist Church in southwest Oklahoma. Eighteen years later it got blown clean out of the ground by a B-52 Arc-light bombing run about 25 klicks east of a place called Lai Khe in Nam. Ephipany, and there she lays even as of today, a dried up and withered old root next to stagnant pools of ground water festering in the bomb craters of the area. Not even the jungle can reclaim land blown down to the laterite.
Gimme that ole tyme religion. Keep it, it isn't of any use to me. Finding the Kingdom of Heaven in the here and now has been a process of four decades or more. Except for Grace I wouldn't even be looking. Except for Grace my ticket wouldn't be valid. Under most religions I'd be too far in debt to succeed. Glimpsed the Kingdom here and again over time, and I expect to live in it someday, heck I'm supposed to be living in it now. Not sure I would even know what it is except that the tap root was all blown to hell. The paths to God are all different for different seekers.
Yep, I had a tap root once.
How agricultural.
I was a farm boy too.
Mine got started down at a little country Southern Baptist Church in southwest Oklahoma. Eighteen years later it got blown clean out of the ground by a B-52 Arc-light bombing run about 25 klicks east of a place called Lai Khe in Nam. Ephipany, and there she lays even as of today, a dried up and withered old root next to stagnant pools of ground water festering in the bomb craters of the area. Not even the jungle can reclaim land blown down to the laterite.
Gimme that ole tyme religion. Keep it, it isn't of any use to me. Finding the Kingdom of Heaven in the here and now has been a process of four decades or more. Except for Grace I wouldn't even be looking. Except for Grace my ticket wouldn't be valid. Under most religions I'd be too far in debt to succeed. Glimpsed the Kingdom here and again over time, and I expect to live in it someday, heck I'm supposed to be living in it now. Not sure I would even know what it is except that the tap root was all blown to hell. The paths to God are all different for different seekers.
Yep, I had a tap root once.
Maybe that taproot that got blown to pieces was a tuber, and what remains, and has remained for 40 years, are the offshoots from those pieces. Like seed taters.
I agree that getting a glimpse of the Kingdom requires that that root be torn out and redefined and replanted -- which might be what I was sorta kinda trying to say about the secondary roots from my rhizomes. Not that I would dare try to define your experiences. Just trying to keep the metaphor intact. :-)
It just so happened that the place in time, and what I consider the taproot of my faith, are the same instant. Maybe your actual taproot, or roots, are closer to Lai Khe than the Big Pasture. Maybe that stuff at the church, in your case, was actually a bunch of tares that the seed taters of yer faith had to outgrow.
Said Dr. ER when told of the bent this here thread is taking: "Boy, y'all are just metaphorin' deeeep today."
I agree that getting a glimpse of the Kingdom requires that that root be torn out and redefined and replanted -- which might be what I was sorta kinda trying to say about the secondary roots from my rhizomes. Not that I would dare try to define your experiences. Just trying to keep the metaphor intact. :-)
It just so happened that the place in time, and what I consider the taproot of my faith, are the same instant. Maybe your actual taproot, or roots, are closer to Lai Khe than the Big Pasture. Maybe that stuff at the church, in your case, was actually a bunch of tares that the seed taters of yer faith had to outgrow.
Said Dr. ER when told of the bent this here thread is taking: "Boy, y'all are just metaphorin' deeeep today."
Funny enough, my taproot has really evaporated. My home church, First United Methodist Church of Sayre, PA, no longer exists. The building is still there, although it was sold to the Salvation Army. I doubt if I could step foot in it again, because it just wouldn't be the same.
Mine isn't physical. It's personal. Four people in particular. Rev. Richard Shuster. Rev. Edwin Martin. Robert and Valerie Crocker. These are the people who are my taproot; it is they who planted the seed, cultivated the sprout, and trusted the plant would grow even in the trying and often harsh weather of early adulthood. If I am any kind of Christian at all, beyond the grace of God, I have these four individuals to thank.
Mine isn't physical. It's personal. Four people in particular. Rev. Richard Shuster. Rev. Edwin Martin. Robert and Valerie Crocker. These are the people who are my taproot; it is they who planted the seed, cultivated the sprout, and trusted the plant would grow even in the trying and often harsh weather of early adulthood. If I am any kind of Christian at all, beyond the grace of God, I have these four individuals to thank.
The gal that preached this morning testified, so to speak, that her taproot was in music -- a specific hymn, but I can't remember which one.
Fertilizers of my own roots came from musical people: Keith Green and Al Green just out of high school, the Imperials when I was in high school, among them.
Oh, and Steven Tyler. (Aerosmith's "Amazing" came out just when I needed it, in the midst of the addict living-with-and-loving period.) Oh, and "Let Her Cry" by Hootie & the Blowfish, which was eerily biographical for she and I.
Fertilizers of my own roots came from musical people: Keith Green and Al Green just out of high school, the Imperials when I was in high school, among them.
Oh, and Steven Tyler. (Aerosmith's "Amazing" came out just when I needed it, in the midst of the addict living-with-and-loving period.) Oh, and "Let Her Cry" by Hootie & the Blowfish, which was eerily biographical for she and I.
For me, it was somewhat programmed into my software. I grew up in a Christian home, ran in Christian circles, etc.
Strangely, what caused me to turn away for a brief while, both in devotion and doubt, was my 4 years at a private Christian college. I wouldn't blame the school, it's just that my place in life, lack of depth in understanding my beliefs beyond the programming, and some people I was around that had, what seemed to be, no depth in faith, but a deeper blind faith that wasn't backed up with logic or intellect. I couldn't settle for being faithful without being able to explain my faith.
Of course, I came back (or He pulled me back). My intellect and faith finally synced, but I struggle daily to get closer.
I think my experience, if not the experience of most believers, can be best summed up by this skit. (Get past the first 90 seconds of it. It's worth the watch.)
Strangely, what caused me to turn away for a brief while, both in devotion and doubt, was my 4 years at a private Christian college. I wouldn't blame the school, it's just that my place in life, lack of depth in understanding my beliefs beyond the programming, and some people I was around that had, what seemed to be, no depth in faith, but a deeper blind faith that wasn't backed up with logic or intellect. I couldn't settle for being faithful without being able to explain my faith.
Of course, I came back (or He pulled me back). My intellect and faith finally synced, but I struggle daily to get closer.
I think my experience, if not the experience of most believers, can be best summed up by this skit. (Get past the first 90 seconds of it. It's worth the watch.)
# posted by 
: 7:28 PM
: 7:28 PM
I hated Christians with a passion.
When I was 20 years old, I had already been living with and supporting a deadbeat boyfriend for three years (and I was exhausted!), and the bartender at the restaurant I was waitressing at was a Christian, the first one I had ever met who was completely normal (!) and she befriended me, without putting any expectations on our friendship.
She went to a street church and introduced me to a pastor who wore cowboy boots and played the guitar, most of the congregation were former street kids, really young ex-prostitutes and Christians from other churches wo liked the informalness of it all.
One Saturday (the Saturday after Good Friday) after a long day of work, my friend invited me up to her place for tea, and as we sat there God said to her "Ask her" (of course she didn't tell me this until months later...).
Her answer to God was "Yeah right, and then I'm going to be totally embarassed when she says she's not interested!". And He said again, "Ask her".
And out of the blue, without any preliminary sermon, she asked me : Karen, would you like to ask Jesus into your life?
To this day I don't know why I said yes, but I did, and we prayed, and while we prayed I could see myself crossing an invisible line.
When I left, my friend's first thought was "Yeah right, that's really going to stick!"(I was pretty wild)
I went home, told my boyfriend, who said " So I guess that means we can't have sex anymore?", to which I naively replied "Why wouldn't we be able to? Nothing's going to change!" (Anyone who knows God will be laughing right now.) And thank God everything changed.
Of course after that I could recognize all the times where He had been wooing me , and I was too blind to see. All of a sudden I could read the Bible and it wasn't boring.
Fertilizer has been personal revival, and extreme suffering, both going hand in hand + many authors who were close to Him, yet struggled as well. Once in a while a song.
When I was 20 years old, I had already been living with and supporting a deadbeat boyfriend for three years (and I was exhausted!), and the bartender at the restaurant I was waitressing at was a Christian, the first one I had ever met who was completely normal (!) and she befriended me, without putting any expectations on our friendship.
She went to a street church and introduced me to a pastor who wore cowboy boots and played the guitar, most of the congregation were former street kids, really young ex-prostitutes and Christians from other churches wo liked the informalness of it all.
One Saturday (the Saturday after Good Friday) after a long day of work, my friend invited me up to her place for tea, and as we sat there God said to her "Ask her" (of course she didn't tell me this until months later...).
Her answer to God was "Yeah right, and then I'm going to be totally embarassed when she says she's not interested!". And He said again, "Ask her".
And out of the blue, without any preliminary sermon, she asked me : Karen, would you like to ask Jesus into your life?
To this day I don't know why I said yes, but I did, and we prayed, and while we prayed I could see myself crossing an invisible line.
When I left, my friend's first thought was "Yeah right, that's really going to stick!"(I was pretty wild)
I went home, told my boyfriend, who said " So I guess that means we can't have sex anymore?", to which I naively replied "Why wouldn't we be able to? Nothing's going to change!" (Anyone who knows God will be laughing right now.) And thank God everything changed.
Of course after that I could recognize all the times where He had been wooing me , and I was too blind to see. All of a sudden I could read the Bible and it wasn't boring.
Fertilizer has been personal revival, and extreme suffering, both going hand in hand + many authors who were close to Him, yet struggled as well. Once in a while a song.
# posted by : 8:37 PM
: 8:37 PM
My taproot is a little white church at the end of a dirt road my Grannie lived on in Gans, OK. It comes complete with a little steeple and bell they ring before every service to let you know you've only got 10 minutes before the service starts. I can't describe how deep that place runs in my veins...my grandparents, both sets, helped found that church years and years ago; my parents met and were married there; services were held there when friends, aunts, uncles and grandparents died.
It's where I learned the words to, "The Old Rugged Cross," "Amazing Grace," and "What A Friend We Have In Jesus." I can't say I learned the tune to them, but I did learn the words! Grannie taught Junior Church (where kids went who were too little or too squirmy to sit still for "big" church") with an evangelist's zeal. She had a large flannel board where she'd tell the stories of Noah's Ark, Joseph's coat of many colors, Abraham and Issac, and Moses leading the people out of Egypt with little felt cut outs. When she prayed, you knew she was talking to someone she knew personally. She always gave us the opportunity after her lessons to pray, too.
Most of the people of my Grannie's generation, including her, have passed on now. But I could walk in there next Sunday and the preacher would call me by name and ask about my brothers and sisters and their children. I'm not really up on my agricultural metaphors...is there something that runs deeper than a taproot?
Crystal
It's where I learned the words to, "The Old Rugged Cross," "Amazing Grace," and "What A Friend We Have In Jesus." I can't say I learned the tune to them, but I did learn the words! Grannie taught Junior Church (where kids went who were too little or too squirmy to sit still for "big" church") with an evangelist's zeal. She had a large flannel board where she'd tell the stories of Noah's Ark, Joseph's coat of many colors, Abraham and Issac, and Moses leading the people out of Egypt with little felt cut outs. When she prayed, you knew she was talking to someone she knew personally. She always gave us the opportunity after her lessons to pray, too.
Most of the people of my Grannie's generation, including her, have passed on now. But I could walk in there next Sunday and the preacher would call me by name and ask about my brothers and sisters and their children. I'm not really up on my agricultural metaphors...is there something that runs deeper than a taproot?
Crystal
# posted by : 9:11 PM
: 9:11 PM
Sharp Blessed: I love that skit. Seeing it sent me to my knees afresh, which is surely what helped me through the troubling days immediaterly following!
http://eruditeredneck.blogspot.com
/2007/09/jesus-saves-watch-him.html
http://eruditeredneck.blogspot.com
/2007/09/jesus-saves-watch-him.html
That's what that video was on that post! The day you posted, it wouldn't load for some reason, and it had me curious. 'Just so happened a family member sent me the link to it last night, and it had me weaping for the next hour as I watched it over and over.
Email, RE:stogies, on its way.
Email, RE:stogies, on its way.
# posted by : 10:37 PM
: 10:37 PM
E.R., I'm in the midst of a weekend where I've been pulled close to my taproot again. Some how, some way, God put me right back with the very core of people who were powerfully present and involved with that moment with me.
I'm still processing all that's happened with our reunion -- 35 years after the fact. In fact, probably to the day, now that I have time to remember that detail. I may blog about it later.
I'm still processing all that's happened with our reunion -- 35 years after the fact. In fact, probably to the day, now that I have time to remember that detail. I may blog about it later.
Er said: "I agree that getting a glimpse of the Kingdom requires that that root be torn out and redefined and replanted -- which might be what I was sorta kinda trying to say about the secondary roots from my rhizomes."
I swear some people will do anything to save a metaphor.
It does not require replanting.
Mother Tersa apparently had a problem with her "taproot".
Rhizomes are not associated with tap roots.
I ain't no tater, turkey.
Sorry about the weird post, but I was exploring Google-Earth and had just looked over the still visable bomb craters in Nam and was wandering back there in my mind.
Tap root this:
Just a memory.
Once when two Kiowa brothers who were friends of mine and I were digging in a steep sided ditch down along the Red River when we found the tap root of a buffalo gourd vine. The brothers dug it out of the side of the sandy ditch wall (more like an arroyo wall). It was about two feet long and shaped sort of like a man ( head, shoulders, trunk, arms and legs). They took it home to their mother and made me promise not to tell our other friends about it.
I swear some people will do anything to save a metaphor.
It does not require replanting.
Mother Tersa apparently had a problem with her "taproot".
Rhizomes are not associated with tap roots.
I ain't no tater, turkey.
Sorry about the weird post, but I was exploring Google-Earth and had just looked over the still visable bomb craters in Nam and was wandering back there in my mind.
Tap root this:
Just a memory.
Once when two Kiowa brothers who were friends of mine and I were digging in a steep sided ditch down along the Red River when we found the tap root of a buffalo gourd vine. The brothers dug it out of the side of the sandy ditch wall (more like an arroyo wall). It was about two feet long and shaped sort of like a man ( head, shoulders, trunk, arms and legs). They took it home to their mother and made me promise not to tell our other friends about it.
Sharp Blessed: Weeping here, too.
Trixie: Cool, and a little unnerving maybe, I'll bet.
Drlobo: From Wikipedia:
In one publicly released letter to a spiritual confidant, the Rev. Michael van der Peet, she wrote, "Jesus has a very special love for you. [But] as for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great, that I look and do not see, — Listen and do not hear — the tongue moves [in prayer] but does not speak ... I want you to pray for me — that I let Him have [a] free hand." Many news outlets have referred to Mother Teresa's writings as an indication of a "crisis of faith." [62] However, others have drawn comparisons to the 16th century mystic St. John of the Cross who coined the term the "dark night" of the soul to describe a particular stage in the growth of some spiritual masters.
ER here: I'll say it again, Calvin, and James, are pleased with Mother Teresa, whose taproot was sound -- stronger than her faith itself.
Trixie: Cool, and a little unnerving maybe, I'll bet.
Drlobo: From Wikipedia:
In one publicly released letter to a spiritual confidant, the Rev. Michael van der Peet, she wrote, "Jesus has a very special love for you. [But] as for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great, that I look and do not see, — Listen and do not hear — the tongue moves [in prayer] but does not speak ... I want you to pray for me — that I let Him have [a] free hand." Many news outlets have referred to Mother Teresa's writings as an indication of a "crisis of faith." [62] However, others have drawn comparisons to the 16th century mystic St. John of the Cross who coined the term the "dark night" of the soul to describe a particular stage in the growth of some spiritual masters.
ER here: I'll say it again, Calvin, and James, are pleased with Mother Teresa, whose taproot was sound -- stronger than her faith itself.
Actually, horticulturally, this whole metaphor is a mess. I meant stolons, not rhisomes. And yer right: grasses have a whole 'nother kind of system that don't involve taproots.
Which brings to mind one of my favorite axioms:
Never let the facts stand in the way of a good story.
Which brings to mind one of my favorite axioms:
Never let the facts stand in the way of a good story.
ER qouted: "However, others have drawn comparisons to the 16th century mystic St. John of the Cross who coined the term the "dark night" of the soul to describe a particular stage in the growth of some spiritual masters."
Winston Churchill called it his "Black Dog". It is called "Clinical Depression" and unless you've had it you can't believe how bad it really is.
Untreated it will last a lifetime.
It is not a "sadness", it is not even "dispair", it a disconnect of the soul from earth and heaven, but your body is still here, part of the human flotsom.
It is not mystical, it is chemical.
Winston Churchill called it his "Black Dog". It is called "Clinical Depression" and unless you've had it you can't believe how bad it really is.
Untreated it will last a lifetime.
It is not a "sadness", it is not even "dispair", it a disconnect of the soul from earth and heaven, but your body is still here, part of the human flotsom.
It is not mystical, it is chemical.
Metaphor check:
Horti is Latin for garden.
Tares are found in grain fields not tater patches.
Hope you had a good flight home.
Karen said:
"That makes me envious, it really does."
Don't be envious. All of us who tapped down too early had to do heavy re-evaluation later on. In many ways it is a stronger relationship if you come to it as an adult.
Horti is Latin for garden.
Tares are found in grain fields not tater patches.
Hope you had a good flight home.
Karen said:
"That makes me envious, it really does."
Don't be envious. All of us who tapped down too early had to do heavy re-evaluation later on. In many ways it is a stronger relationship if you come to it as an adult.
Well, I think it might be both mystical *and* chemical.
One reason we mi8ght not have any real prophets these days is because of prescription chemicals.
What, for example, would oike happen to a tween who split from his parents on a road trip and days or weeks later was found contending with priests in the temple?
He'd be rounded up, brought home and shot full of Ritalin or something.
Keith Green seems clinically depressed, ro maybe even manic-depressive, if you read his biography by his wife, Melody. What if he'd been *treated* for it?
What if St. John of the Cross, or either of the St. Theresas, had gotten *treated* for their visions and their weirdnesses?
One reason we mi8ght not have any real prophets these days is because of prescription chemicals.
What, for example, would oike happen to a tween who split from his parents on a road trip and days or weeks later was found contending with priests in the temple?
He'd be rounded up, brought home and shot full of Ritalin or something.
Keith Green seems clinically depressed, ro maybe even manic-depressive, if you read his biography by his wife, Melody. What if he'd been *treated* for it?
What if St. John of the Cross, or either of the St. Theresas, had gotten *treated* for their visions and their weirdnesses?
Good point about Keith Green and others.
In hindsight the "dark nights" are the best for touching the essence of it all...
(but Lord.... no more OK? I've had enough...)
In hindsight the "dark nights" are the best for touching the essence of it all...
(but Lord.... no more OK? I've had enough...)
# posted by : 10:12 PM
: 10:12 PM
As I said if you ain't had it, then you don't know what it is. Justifying clinical depression in order to have a "mystical" experience ain't no different than justifing having cancer or any other deadly disease to do the same. I don't buy it.
True. But you seem to miss no chance to turn the potentially spiritual into something explainable, and that's probably what I was reacting to.
You have earned your skepticism -- but I don't buy all of it.
:-)
You have earned your skepticism -- but I don't buy all of it.
:-)
One of my roots grew when I was in Bible college. I had gone there so sure of myself. Slowly, I began to see that humans can't be so sure. I spent a long time mourning that sureness, realizing that at best, belief in God is a presupposition, not a little factoid. I think the beginnings of spiritual maturities sprouted then.
It often comes down to (in my experience) my wanting to get off the carrousel called the christian walk and Jesus asking me, as He did Peter, whether I,m going to leave as well.
And then I realize I have no where else to go: I can't go back to where I was before, I've experienced the "fourth" dimension by crossing the line.
And then I realize I have no where else to go: I can't go back to where I was before, I've experienced the "fourth" dimension by crossing the line.
# posted by : 8:42 PM
: 8:42 PM
BRD: I wish Geoffrey would come and talk a little about his, and his United Methodist pastor wife's experience in thay regard in seminary. Geoffrey? You there?
Karen, dudette: "I have no where else to go."
Truth! And, I think, testament in itself to how CAUGHT we are when Jesus CATCHES us.
No matter what I feel, think or "believe" -- there is that. And that may very well be a form of the peace that passes all understanding.
Karen, dudette: "I have no where else to go."
Truth! And, I think, testament in itself to how CAUGHT we are when Jesus CATCHES us.
No matter what I feel, think or "believe" -- there is that. And that may very well be a form of the peace that passes all understanding.
ER said: "But you seem to miss no chance to turn the potentially spiritual into something explainable, and that's probably what I was reacting to."
Humm...
Just because it is explainable doesn't mean it isn't spiritual.
Now "mystical", indeed, is wiped away by explaination. Chasing away the mystery is the esscence of knowledge.
As for skepticism, is it learned or earned? You speak of it as a negative, as something that intrudes on your thoughts, as though skepticism were an irritation.
Perhaps you actually ment to disparage my cynicism, my distrusting or contempt for the motives of others. Now that is something I've learned and earned and I often wield with glee.
Humm...
Just because it is explainable doesn't mean it isn't spiritual.
Now "mystical", indeed, is wiped away by explaination. Chasing away the mystery is the esscence of knowledge.
As for skepticism, is it learned or earned? You speak of it as a negative, as something that intrudes on your thoughts, as though skepticism were an irritation.
Perhaps you actually ment to disparage my cynicism, my distrusting or contempt for the motives of others. Now that is something I've learned and earned and I often wield with glee.
I think yer confusing "mystical," the adjectival form of "mysticism," with "mysterious," the adjectival form of "mystery."
Mysticism: "1. a. Immediate consciousness of the transcendent or ultimate reality or God.
b. The experience of such communion as described by mystics.
2. A belief in the existence of REALITIES BEYOND perceptual or intellectual apprehension that are central to being and directly accessible by subjective experience."
Mystery:
http://www.thefreedictionary.com/mystery
But then, there is some overlap, and I ,may very well have conflated skepticism and cynicism.
Mysticism: "1. a. Immediate consciousness of the transcendent or ultimate reality or God.
b. The experience of such communion as described by mystics.
2. A belief in the existence of REALITIES BEYOND perceptual or intellectual apprehension that are central to being and directly accessible by subjective experience."
Mystery:
http://www.thefreedictionary.com/mystery
But then, there is some overlap, and I ,may very well have conflated skepticism and cynicism.
False dichotomy.
Nope I'm starting from Mystic:
Definitions of mystic on the Web:
mysterious: having an import not apparent to the senses nor obvious to the intelligence; beyond ordinary understanding; "mysterious symbols"; "the mystical style of Blake"; "occult lore"; "the secret learning of the ancients"
relating to or resembling mysticism; "mystical intuition"; "mystical theories about the securities market"
someone who believes in the existence of realities beyond human comprehension
wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn
They all hark back to the pre-Christian Mystery Relgions. where the practioner was a Mystes (one who kept silent) thus kept the secret (Mystic) so that it was unknown (Mystery).
See:
mys·tic (mstk)
adj.
1. Of or relating to religious mysteries or occult rites and practices.
2. Of or relating to mysticism or mystics.
3. Inspiring a sense of mystery and wonder.
4.
a. Mysterious; strange.
b. Enigmatic; obscure.
5. Mystical.
So there!
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Nope I'm starting from Mystic:
Definitions of mystic on the Web:
mysterious: having an import not apparent to the senses nor obvious to the intelligence; beyond ordinary understanding; "mysterious symbols"; "the mystical style of Blake"; "occult lore"; "the secret learning of the ancients"
relating to or resembling mysticism; "mystical intuition"; "mystical theories about the securities market"
someone who believes in the existence of realities beyond human comprehension
wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn
They all hark back to the pre-Christian Mystery Relgions. where the practioner was a Mystes (one who kept silent) thus kept the secret (Mystic) so that it was unknown (Mystery).
See:
mys·tic (mstk)
adj.
1. Of or relating to religious mysteries or occult rites and practices.
2. Of or relating to mysticism or mystics.
3. Inspiring a sense of mystery and wonder.
4.
a. Mysterious; strange.
b. Enigmatic; obscure.
5. Mystical.
So there!
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