Monthly Archives: June 2016

Beginning to see the light

Many psychologist have studied pathology (disease and abnormality defining)…we cannot really understand human nature when we look at it in a fragmented state; only a healthy integrated person can give us a true picture of what it means to be human (Jesus, divine in nature, provides the greatest example of humanity lived fully—His mother providing the example of the closes a human can follow in imitation and intimacy)…emphasis on the healthy person allows a focus on human possibilities, including the development of virtues, with its implications of spiritual development…“the Romans meant by virtue what made a man a man, and Christianity added spirit to men and soulfulness to women”…(to) begin with health rather than illness, he echoes our Christian belief that good is prior to evil, that human beings are created good and are meant to develop into the fullness of Christ (Eph. 3:14-21, 4:13-16).  As I have prayed with Linda (a wife) and become her friend, I’ve learned the single most important thing I do for her is to see the goodness and potential for health within her.  As I see her in this way—something I believe I can do because Jesus has helped me to see my wife as He sees her—she becomes more and more the person I see (the person with, through, and in Christ).  –Healing the Eight Stages of Life.

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father,
From whom every family in heaven and on earth is named,
That according to the riches of his glory
He may grant you to be strengthened with might through his Spirit in the inner man,
And that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith;
That you, being rooted and grounded in love, 
May have power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth,
And to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge,
That you may be filled with all the fullness of God. 
Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think,
To him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations,
For ever and ever. Amen.

Letter to the Ephesians from St Paul the Apostle

A morning of beauty, porch sitting at Carter’s. It has been a while since I sat on the Cleveland Height’s porch writing, enjoying the splendor of being reflective.  I have not seen Carter in months, not sure how he is doing, assuming all is good in Virginia with his sister.  I have been concentrating on a recent tantrum, exploding while stuck in an awful traffic jam trying to get to work.  I left late, occupied with the significant other in cuddling and kissing, not ready in the least for the monstrosity of chaos and inconvenience awaiting me at the intersecting of Chagrin and interstate 271.  I should have known since I have been greeted twice with the unpleasantry in the last three days.  I assume it is the coming Republican National Convention causing all the road construction issues.  Driving home the same tribulation inflicted itself as the highway presented a mess of cones, misdirection, and overall conflagration due to the massive line painting being conducted.  Yet I have control only over myself.  I failed miserably in this regard.  Being late to work troubles me greatly, fear inducing extreme expression.  I was speaking lovingly to the significant other on my car-speaker phone as the construction presented itself.  I instantly recognized the severity and reality of the life intrusion.  I stood no chance of being on time.  Immensely irritated, I blew-up, exploding in wrath, screaming vindictives, swearing I had it with city-life, yelling with all my might, unable to stop myself.  The ubiquitous construction, the endless dealing with traffic, I could no longer stand.  Declarations, determinations, and conclusions were violently shouted from my mouth, my mind overwhelmed with impossibilities and insanity.  I allowed myself to go, continuing on the phone, allowing the significant other a glimpse into the worst of me.  I recall staying with the Rescuerer in Middleburg Heights, becoming so angry and upset with her that I would scream at her endlessly, giving myself a headache.  I would be absolutely consumed with wrath, anger vomiting from the core of my being, spewing neurotic psychosis about all over my existence.  I recall my father, the son of an alcoholic, an abandoned and fought over child witnessing the death of a mother before the age of five—torn away from tendering grandparents, removed from an idyllic farm-life to live with a battering drinking father and new mother.  My father would throw tantrums throughout his life.  Fathering sober, with complete love and attention, he could not control his temper.  Family events would always start with him throwing fits assembling everyone together properly.  It was insane.  He would make tremendous plans, purchasing proper supplies, tending to matters with great detail and intention of supplying something wonderful for his family, only to put everything together with the upmost anxiety and anger.  As a child it was funny, yet also scary.  So now I am an adult and I know how to throw an extreme exterior implosion myself.  The slightest annoyance of convenience brings forth intense consternation.  The significant other provided the sweetest, kindest, and gentlest companionship, a friend troubled, wanting to comfort and help, while believing and trusting in me.  She is authentic and sincere.  I showed her my worst, letting myself go and she still nurtures.  I am touched.  I am a deep man of prayer, graced with the wonder of losing myself in prayer–God is good and all giving. It provides proper confidence and direction, spiritual discernment. That is a part of me.  Being an all or nothing type of recovering alcoholic, I recognize the blessed aspects of my life as well as the shattered, pleading with my Lord to help bring me together in health and sanity, to allow me to become a whole being, allow me to allow the proper healing to occur, imploring My Lady Undoer of Knots to be so kind as to ceaselessly tender her healing compassion and love.  It is now wonderfully and efficaciously being enacted within my relationship with my significant other.  Painfully, I am surrendering, allowing myself to grow above fear on a deeper social level.  I am a loved child of God, and within such a reality I want to love.  A significant other, others always about, and me a man stumbling through life, desiring to be socially responsible.  A tear in one eye, a crutch propped under my right shoulder, looking up wearily, I can only do my best.  I accept companionship, simply and openly receiving love–it is hard for me.  Fortitude, perseverance, patience, all supporting and building upon my conviction to faith, hope, and charity.

Music listened to while preparing and writing, the sixties NYC counter-culture pop band The Velvet Underground.

 

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Love greater prevails

I was counseling a young married man recently, and he was very discouraged with himself. No matter what, he could not stop being irritated at others, biting off people’s heads, resenting every little thing. He said in desperation and anguish, “How can I change this? I don’t know how to be different!”He sounded like Paul: “What a wretched man I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?”(Romans 7:24). Then I asked him if he was that way with his two little children, and without any hesitation he said, “No, not at all, hardly ever.”

You see the point, I am sure. The only way to be delivered from our “body of death”is a love that is greater, a deeper connection that absorbs all the negativity and irritation with life and with ourselves.  Richard Rohr ‘Breathing Under Water’

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Abandoned writing: A Tumbling Story

Jesters

An abbot from a Benedictine monastery near Bologna visited Troupe Tripudiante in order to witness the acrobatics of Beatrice. Word spread throughout the region of the strange camp of performers traveling with Man Tower. Wanderers, especially performers, actors, were viewed with suspicion, however times were changing and traveling men were becoming more common in the region of Lombard, the northern lands leading to Frankish and German territories. Men moving about were becoming associated with trade, the exchanging of goods. It was good for all for men to travel and interact.

After confessing her sins to the abbot, Beatrice spent timed conversing with the priest. Cassandra joined them, enjoying the sunshine and the absorption of conversation.

“Father, do you enjoy my tumbling?”

“Yes. I have a special place in my heart for such activity. Beatrice you are so graceful and skillful with the body God blessed you with.”

“You honor me. Yes. It is God I thank for my joy and abilities. I see that so clearly. What did you think of the children singing? I saw you listening.”

“Their voices are those of angels.”

“Yes it will be a grand show. You must return to the abbey, retrieving your monks. The more the merry. Bring all the consecrated men in order to bless and witness our show.”

“We will see my child.”

Cassandra joined the conversation. “Father there is more to your admiration. Please speak.”

“It was when I was a younger monk, long before I was an abbot, although even during those times I strayed toward the abbacy, being a leader amongst the consecrated. I sought the friendship of the abbot above all others. He was a man of power. Now, I see it was the errant behavior of a young man enamored with authority, an individual glorifying hierarchy onto itself. I wanted to lead not for God, rather for vainglory. I valued the abbot because he was an abbot, someone who surpassed his peers. During those early days in the monastery, I reported to the abbot the things I observed, events and behavior I noticed as I watched my brothers. Through nervousness, I became a judge. Why waste words? I know the truth. I was a self-appointed spy. I never felt I fit in with my brothers so I secretly turned on them, defensiveness causing me to take offense. Ignorantly, I tried to prove my piety by overseeing my brothers, wielding hidden authority. One brother, I determined, demanded severe immediate attention. He was dumb, hopeless with his horrendous Latin. The novice was a dunce, a disrespect as he previously tramp about the earth as an acrobat and actor. His behavior had been suspicious for some time. I did not like the dumb looking brother the first moment I set eyes upon him. My first impression denouncingly convinced he was an absolute lowering of standards. He was not participating in prayers properly, appearing gloomy and downtrodden, missing sessions. I had my eye severely upon him the whole time. The man was desperate and did not belong. It was obvious. Then suddenly to my chagrin, his demeanor changed. His participation in prayers and chanting did not improve, yet he was smiling, losing the dismal nature everyone associated with him. The hopeless man somehow gained hope. I was dumbfounded. I keenly noticed he was missing matins regularly. Mysteriously, none of my brothers or superiors made an issue of the fact. I determined the abbot must do something. Underhandedly, I conducted every effort to ensure proper action was taken. The abbot, whom I considered my best friend, decided the two of us would follow our wayward brother. We saw him enter a private storage area, a large room of no consequence, simply used for storage. The following day we investigated the room, discovering the deeds of our puzzling brother. Behind crates and items in storage, he created a secret open space with a forgotten statue of Our Lady overlooking matters. The abbot and I created our own space, a place for hiding. We would uncover matters completely. We occupied our spying spot that night. We hid ourselves well, waiting for the appearance of our mischievous brother. When he showed himself, we watched. Our stupid brother dropped to his knees in prayer, begging Our Holy Mother for forgiveness. His inability to master communal prayers disturbed him. His memory was miserable. His lessons were impossible to keep in his head. He admitted he would never learn Latin. He moved on to plead for understanding regarding his difficulty in learning, his poor reading skills, apologizing for his overall intellectual inferiority. I admit it was difficult to observe, especially in regard to the fact, that I was one of the harshest critics of the brother. My poor brother was falling apart at the seams. Addressing the Holiest of Mothers, my pitiful brother explained that the only thing he was good at was tumbling and acrobatics. He told the Virgin Mary that he would perform for her as he did in the carnivals for men. He dedicated his deeds and heart to her Immaculate Heart, the loveliest of women as he named her, expressing the desire she find joy in his efforts. He shed so many tears during this difficult to witness confessing. Then to our astonished amazement our brother began flipping about, turning summersaults in the air, walking upon his hands. His deeds from the traveling carnivals, he performed for the Mother of God. We knew not what to think, and then things advanced to the supernatural. The most Blessed Lady stepped down from being merely a statue. Angels appeared from the very air. Our Lady was a lady before us. The angels danced about with our brother, performing the tumbling and gymnastics along with our brother. The angels laughed, rolling about upon the ground in sheer delight as our brother threw himself about the room. The angels who were not tumbling with our brother were flying about conducting applause. The Blessed Lady, in awe, stood clapping, her mouth radiating with the most beautiful smile. She elegantly laughed. Our brother noticed nothing of the heavenly amusement he was creating. The abbot and I could only watch, spellbound, overwhelmed with humility. When our brother finally completed his blissful performance and departed, we sulked back to the abbot’s office, falling upon the ground begging for mercy. We both shed many tears of sorrow. We prayed throughout the night, until morning came, when the abbot had our acrobatic brother brought before him. We begged forgiveness from our brother. We told him of everything we observed. He marveled at the vision of the angels and Blessed Mother adoring his performance. We assured him they loved his efforts, and the abbot promised that from now on the brother would be granted every moment he desired to perform for the Holy Mother. I was fortunate to be allowed to watch our brother every now and then as he entertained for his heavenly audience. From the night forward, he was the one I desired to have as my best friend. Someone in such favor with Our Blessed Lady I wanted as close to me as I could establish. Never did I see the fantastic again, yet I knew they were enjoying. A Divine ambiance adorned the space. One morning, about seven years later, our tumbling brother was found dead in the space of his performances. There were no signs of death, and most mystifying, the smile upon his face expressed sheer joy. The abbot whispered to me that he was positive Our Holy Mother took our brother up to heaven so he could perform for all of the attending.”

“So my friends, this is the reason I am so found of the art of gymnastics. One of the children, visiting the abbey, described a young lady, in company of a troupe of traveling actors, who possessed the gymnastic skills of Brother Andrew. So grand are my memories of my brother that I had to witness the young woman myself. I will positively affirm that Beatrice, you do possess talent on par with my blessed brother.”

“Thank you father.”

“I should thank you. You have ignited exceptional memories.”

Cassandra spoke. “Father please come watch the children sing some more. They have practiced diligently for days. They are getting quite good. I have them positioned properly so their tones and pitches harmonize, creating a unified voice of beauty. They will perform for their families and neighbors during the upcoming show. We have performed only a few times since departing from Assisi. This will be our first series of performances. We are sinners who now find pleasure in teaching children, performing for people of good will, and even those of complex will. The crowds grow bigger. The attention our leader, Man Tower, attracts is substantial. I am nervous, yet confident we will prove worthy. You must come hear the children sing, and then I will describe some of our acts. You have not met Jacopone. He is amazingly gifted in all the arts of performance; skilled in the most simple and complicated practical tasks. The plays our elder writes, especially those of a Biblical nature, you will find enlightening. I hope that is the case for there is nothing heretical in his ideology. He is an intelligent layman of the church.”

“Young lady you say many things at one time. Please let us return to the children. One matter at a time. From there we will allow God to guide our steps.”

2 Samuel chapter 6

12 And it was told King David, “The Lord has blessed the household of O′bed-e′dom and all that belongs to him, because of the ark of God.” So David went and brought up the ark of God from the house of O′bed-e′dom to the city of David with rejoicing; 13 and when those who bore the ark of the Lord had gone six paces, he sacrificed an ox and a fatling. 14 And David danced before the Lord with all his might; and David was girded with a linen ephod. 15 So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the Lord with shouting, and with the sound of the horn.

16 As the ark of the Lord came into the city of David, Michal the daughter of Saul looked out of the window, and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart. 17 And they brought in the ark of the Lord, and set it in its place, inside the tent which David had pitched for it; and David offered burnt offerings and peace offerings before the Lord. 18 And when David had finished offering the burnt offerings and the peace offerings, he blessed the people in the name of the Lord of hosts, 19 and distributed among all the people, the whole multitude of Israel, both men and women, to each a cake of bread, a portion of meat,[g] and a cake of raisins. Then all the people departed, each to his house.

20 And David returned to bless his household. But Michal the daughter of Saul came out to meet David, and said, “How the king of Israel honored himself today, uncovering himself today before the eyes of his servants’ maids, as one of the vulgar fellows shamelessly uncovers himself!” 21 And David said to Michal, “It was before the Lord, who chose me above your father, and above all his house, to appoint me as prince over Israel, the people of the Lord—and I will make merry before the Lord. 22 I will make myself yet more contemptible than this, and I will be abased in your[h] eyes; but by the maids of whom you have spoken, by them I shall be held in honor.”

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Daily reading: the wonder of a prophet

At the mountain of God, Horeb, Elijah came to a cave, where he took shelter. But the word of the LORD came to him,

“Why are you here, Elijah?” Then the LORD said, “Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will be passing by.”

A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the Lord.

But the LORD was not in the wind.

After the wind there was an earthquake.

But the LORD was not in the earthquake.

After the earthquake there was fire.

But the LORD was not in the fire.

After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound.

When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave.

A voice said to him, “Elijah, why are you here?”

He replied, “I have been most zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts. But the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to the sword. I alone am left, and they seek to take my life.”

“Go, take the road back to the desert near Damascus…When you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king of Aram. Then you shall anoint Jehu, son of Nimshi, as king of Israel, and Elisha, son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah, as prophet to succeed you.

 

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Allowing Jesus to heal memories

Eriksons-Theory-of-Development

…fortunately our past is always present not only to us but also to Jesus. We can get untracked from the negative effects of past hurts and turn those hurts into gifts for loving by bringing Jesus’ love into hurtful memories. When we invite Jesus into a hurtful memory, we are not asking him to erase or help us forget the past. Rather, we are asking Jesus to “heal our memories” just as he did for the Emmaus disciples (Lk 24:13-35). When Jesus joined the depressed disciples on the road to Emmaus, the disciples’ hearts were filled with grief and disappointment from their hurtful memory of Jesus’ death. As they shared the events of the previous three days, Jesus listened and lovingly responded to each of the ways they felt hurt. Eventually the disciples’ became so full of love that they could forgive Jesus, themselves, and all who hurt them. The disciples’ traded their depressed hearts with Jesus’ joyful, loving heart. When they left Jesus, their own hearts were “burning within them”. In healing a memory, we share our hearts with Jesus and take on his loving heart until we can see the past in a whole new way, with Jesus’ vision. By the time the disciples arrived at Emmaus, the greatest tragedy of their lives had been transformed into the greatest gift for loving as they joyfully announced to those who still grieved, “The Lord has been raised!” –Healing the Eight Stages of Life

friend

Jesus the Greatest Therapist

 

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They that mourn become strong in understanding

…they that mourn, they shall be comforted; and they shall be comforted, not simply by a subsequent reward, a belated consolation prize for what they have suffered, but because their sorrow itself will be turned into joy even on earth, the sort of joy that gives life, strength, courage, and exhilaration.

…The Paraclete, the Comforter, is not primarily a soothing influence. The word itself means a strengthening: it is, if you will a soothing influence—this is sometimes a necessity—but only in order to give a renewed courage and strength to face the reality which has overwhelmed the sufferer. And perhaps here there is a clue to our Lord’s apparent paradox. Blessed are they who are ready and anxious to go to great lengths, endure great discomfort, in order to bring strength and courage to others: for in their giving to others of these things they will themselves receive them. To encourage another to great deeds is to be strengthened yourself. And—lest we lose sight of the gentler side of comfort in stressing the stronger—there are a few things that bring greater balm and peace to the soul than to bring them to the soul of another.  –Father Gerald Vann ‘The Divine Pity’

Faith walking into the unknown,
Hope arising from the core of being,
Nothing made up, nothing unknown,
Existence within stillness, a quietness within cognizance,
Love guiding every breath, soothing every step, strengthening inner resolve,
Everything and anything can be done in the name of Christ,
Morality arises as a reality rather than an infliction,
Sentience sublime, one understands able to exercise wisdom,
The simple naturally ascends,
Going up appears as the only path,
Divine in presence,
The easing of burdens becomes a way of giving,
Need, delusion, desire, self-serving, hiding behind that which is good distresses,
Religion is not self-absorption, nor the expanding of pride,
Nothing superior, ethos inferior,
No despair as one becomes little, as one learns to do less,
Monstrosities form grandiose, they always will, yet a true way returns to the center,
Faith, hope and charity created by the Creator as an interior,
A source, an image and likeness.

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