Epiphany XVIII: Time

Good Thursday morning, good pilgrims of The Epiphany Season. Is it only the 23rd of January? Really? I'd swear it was already the end of the year, but we've just started collecting information for our tax accountant so it can't be.

Then again, to read some of the comments on social media after the Inauguration and Bishop Mariann's sermon on Monday, you'd think we were back in 1950 - or, at least, that's where some people think we ought to be.

I was actually on one thread where one brilliant woman insisted that Bishop Mariann was not a bishop because - duh! - women can't be bishops. Says so right in the B I B L E. According to her brilliant logic, if The Bible says it can't be, it isn't.

Ever notice how the very people who make pronouncements like this have absolutely no credentials so to do? People who've never been to seminary much less Bible College are suddenly expert theologians.

These same people are also experts in economics, public policy and immigration and, without ever going near a medical or dental school, are experts on immunology, diabetes, heart disease, and preventing tooth decay, with special proficiency in horse medicine for contagious diseases.

Yes, they're baaaack. Actually, they never went away. They are just now emboldened to give us their wisdom because they have the King they've been praying for who has placed similarly qualified "experts" in positions of authority and power.

Look, it's going to be a long four years. Even if - WHEN - we take back the House and/or Senate in two years, it's going to feel like an eternity.

Hear me: We can do this. We've done it before. We can do it again. Yes, this time we are not up against one man but a regime. Yes, that makes it much more difficult.

Hear me: We can do this. We will do this. And, we will do it with humility and grace, kindness and compassion, and great strength
and clarity.

There will be moments like we had this week, divinely inspired moments when an Episcopal bishop, a woman, stands up to The Old King and pleads for mercy for all who are scared right now. .

These moments will lift our spirits and provide us the inspiration to keep on keeping on. Some of us who were in for the long haul have gotten fat and lazy over the past few years of progress. Others of us have never had to develop our "gospel muscles".

Time to get in shape. Time to spend more time with Jesus, sitting at the feet of the master. Indeed, time to spend time with Spiritual Masters like Buddha and Abraham Heschel and Thich Nhat Hanh and Pema Chodron and the Dahli Lama and Desmond Tutu and Martin Luther King, Jr. and Howard Thurman.

Just last week, my friend, Mark Harris, reminded me that Mao Tse-Tung once wrote, "Everything under heaven is chaos; the situation is excellent."

There's no better time to be a Christian than right now.

Let's do this.

I hope something good happens to you today,

Bom dia.

Epiphany XVII: Heroes and Christians

It's late afternoon on Wednesday. It was a very busy morning. Trust me on this. But, in everything I did, everyone with whom I spoke, every conversation was punctuated with talk of The Bishop and The Old King.

I'm speaking, of course, of Bishop Mariann Budde, who preached the Gospel into the very face of the most powerful man in any government in the so-called "Free World" - or, what's left of it because it is tilting again to the Right.

Some want to make her a hero. She is not. She's a Christian.

We've so tamed the Gospel, so domesticated Jesus and turned him into a lovely, purring lap cat that we've forgotten that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is dangerous. We've lost sight of what a huge risk it is to live out the important lessons that Jesus taught.

Leadership 101: The leader sets the standard. Old King Donald is dangerous because he has set the standard of cruelty and violence, revenge, and retribution.

Bishop Mariann Budde is dangerous because she has set the Gospel standard of self-sacrificial love, of speaking Truth to power, and of giving a voice to the voiceless.

The Flying Maga Monkeys will do exactly as their leader asks them to do. Of this, there is no question.

Will Christians at least strive to meet the standard set for us by Jesus and demonstrated for us by a bishop in the church? Now, that's the question.

 

Some of us have rushed to make her a hero, even circulating a picture of her in a stained glass window with a bible verse, just like those we see in our churches.

We don't need a hero. We need Christians.

Not White Supremacy Christians. Not the kind of Christians who use the bible to defend slavery and promote a return to it. Not the kind of Christians who use the bible to oppress women, and LGBTQ+ people, and those who are strangers seeking hospitality in a foreign land until they can make it their home.

No, we need Christians who have actually read the Bible and studied it and understand its context as well as its application for the world today. We need Christians who try to live out the standards set by the teachings of The Incarnation of God, the Messiah known as Jesus the Christ.

You want a hero? See that Blue Heron there, in the picture, bundled up against the wind by staying in the tall seagrass? That right there is a hero.

This morning, I was on a Zoom call with my sibling clergy. We were studying the lessons from this Sunday's lectionary. Someone had just started to read Paul's Epistle (1 Corinthians 12:12-31a) about how we are all part of the amazing interconnected web of relationships that make us part of the Body of Christ.

Just then, I happened to look out my sunroom window. A duck had flown in earlier and landed on the ice. Now, he was sitting down on the ice and flapping his wings wildly as he called out in clear distress.

Suddenly, several Merganser ducks - maybe five or six - flew in and surrounded the duck. They started flapping their wings wildly and stomping their webbed feet. I assume they were trying to free their friend from the frozen ice, but to no avail.

Then, the Blue Heron stepped out a bit from the seagrass and began to peck at the ice with his enormous bill. It didn't take long before the thin ice cracked and the duck was free. Several of the ducks fell into the water with him but they soon were able to get back up on the ice and fly the short distance into where the current and sun had melted the ice.

And, there it was. Right before my very eyes. Mother Nature was providing a parable to exemplify the words of Paul about how to live in community.

Everyone did what they could, everyone took part, including the Blue Heron. "To whom much is given, much is expected."

The Mergansers and the Blue Heron were heroes.

Bishop Mariann is a Christian. Just like you. Just like me.

She saw a chance to use what power and authority she had to speak truth directly into the face of power. That's exactly what Jesus asks her to do.

That's exactly what Jesus asks us to do. And, I submit that we have more power and authority than we think we do. We just need to learn how to work together.

Is it dangerous? You bet it is. That's in the very DNA of the Gospel. We've just gotten so comfortable with it, not had to pay the price of it for so long, we've either forgotten or we never really understood.

Bishop Mariann helped us to remember that. Or, learn it for the very first time.

It's not to late to say that I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Epiphany XVI: Wishbone, Jawbone, Backbone

 

Good Tuesday morning, good pilgrims of the Epiphany Season. When I woke up this morning, it was 14 degrees. It's currently 16 degrees. There is snow and ice this morning in parts of Florida.

According to the weather service, at least 4 to 6 inches of snow are possible from southeastern Texas into southern Louisiana. California expects 70 mph Santa Ana winds today, making it difficult for firefighters to douse the fire that is, last I heard on NPR, 61% contained.

The governor of Mississippi declared a state of emergency ahead of today's anticipated storms as the state grapples with freezing temperatures and Central Mississippi could see up to 2 inches of snow. Further east, ice totals between a tenth and a quarter of an inch are forecasted in south-central Georgia.

There's more but, well, as Bob Dylan sang, "You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows."

It's as if Mother Nature is giving us a preview of coming attractions in our political life.

As cold and cruel as the weather is this morning, it can not compare with what is inside the hearts of some people who sit in elected and appointed seats of government in our Nation's Capital, giddy with the power and authority now in their hands.

They will do stupid and cruel things simply because they can. As I learned in Leadership 101, the leader sets the tone.

I woke up this morning, and the realization slowly dawned on me that our biggest problem is not Old King Donald and his Royal Court or the House of Lords.

No, our biggest problem is the people who elected him. As if that were not enough, they also gave him the majority of the House and Senate to aid and abet (vs advice and consent) the implementation of Project 2025.

No, I didn't vote for him, but *we* did. He won by a majority of less than 1% but, in this country, the majority rules. *We* elected him. Like it or not (and I don't) he is *our* president.

As I considered that epiphany (or, was it, as The Car Talk Brothers would say, a "stupiphany" - the sudden realization that you've been an idiot) I heard myself say, right out loud, "This really IS the best time to be a Christian."

Followers of Jesus have always risen to their best moral selves in the face of evil. Scripture is filled with such stories. So are the history books of the foundation and formation of this country.

There's an old saying I've heard repeated by some of my older Hospice patients, especially those who grew up with "that old-time religion," deep in the rural farm areas of Delaware.

Those old chicken and cash crop farmers who didn't have pensions or 401Ks or consulting gigs or seats on Boards of Directors lived on the meager income of their social security checks, as well as the food they still grew and the eggs from the chickens they still raised.

They didn't have much education after high school - if they were lucky enough not to have been pulled out to help on the farm - and mostly got their Master's Degree from the University of Life, School of Hard Knocks.

They would tell me that in times of distress or crisis if you pray to Jesus and "feed on his word," he will give you three strong bones: a wishbone, a jawbone, and a backbone.

You need a wishbone, they said, to imagine a life that's different than right now. A life of abundance when everyone else is talking about scarcity. A life where people share what they've got instead of hoarding things for themselves. A life where people are kind and help each other, like when Jesus sat everybody down and they found that two fish and five loaves were enough so no one would go hungry.

Jesus will give you a jawbone so you can ask for help when you need it, speak your mind when you have to, and speak up for others when they need help, too. A jawbone helps you to raise questions so you can feed your curiosity and actually use the intelligence that God put in your head.

Finally, if you listen to Jesus, he will strengthen your backbone so you will have the courage, strength, and determination you need to follow the teachings of Jesus and walk and talk and live like a Christian.

A wishbone. A jawbone. A backbone.

Guess you know what my prayers are today - and for the next four years.

As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., once preached, "We may have all come on different ships, but we're in the same boat now."

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Epiphany XV: An Extraordinary Coincidence

 

Good Monday morning, good pilgrims of the Epiphany Season. When I put my feet on the floor first thing this morning, it was 20 degrees. In 2009, when I was in DC for the second inauguration of Barack Obama, it was 28 degrees. There were wind gusts up to 23 mph.

Between the long lines of millions of people and the several security checks, it took two hours to get to a place where we could see the Capitol Building, there, in the distance, but we watched the inauguration on one of the many Jumbotrons out on the lawn.

It was C O L D. Dangerously so. But, I was bundled up in warm clothing, several pairs of socks and warm boots, a hat, a scarf, and gloves. The joy and delight in my heart were irrepressible and all the fuel I needed to keep me warm.

The nice lady who now runs The Geranium Farm published a prayer today for MLK, Jr., and the Inauguration. She called it "an extraordinary coincidence". I suppose it is. Or, it is just as it was intended when the possibility of this confluence of events first showed up in the heavenly Lottery Drum of Calendar Events.

The prayer for MLK, Jr, from the Book of Lesser Feasts and Fasts asks that "your church . . . may resist oppression in the name of your love, and may strive to secure for all your children the blessed liberty of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. . .".

I prayed that prayer fervently this morning.

The source of the prayer for the Inauguration was listed as "Prayerpedia". Bless their hearts. I'm sure they meant well.

I suppose someone had to write it. And, for any other inauguration, it would be a good prayer. An appropriate prayer. A prayer that contained reasonable petitions to an omnipotent, all-powerful God.

The first petition: "May your Holy Spirit instill our president of righteousness and the values and principles of your kingdom to exercise the sacred trust of administering the nation."

The second: "Give our new president, his administration, and Congress the ability to honor you by doing what is right, fair, and just for all citizens, especially the poor, hungry, and marginalized."

By the time I got to the third, I had to stop: "We ask that all the people in our nation, irrespective of race, gender, ethnicity, or religious faith be treated with dignity."

I could hear my grandmother say, "Yeah, and people in hell want ice water, too."

It's just that it hurts my heart to have to pray for these things which I know are possible to obtain only through the miraculous power and intervention of God.

It makes my head ache to have to pray for the things that I understand are central to - baked into - the fiber and fabric and DNA of this "one Republic, under God," which is governed by a system of government known as a "participatory democracy".

And, it hurts to know that I am asking for things that this particular elected official is "constitutionally incapable" of achieving.

Hear me, now: There is nothing in the world wrong with praying this prayer. And, there is something to the sentiment that says if you don't ask, how can you expect to receive? And yes, I know that Our God is an Awesome God and that Jesus told us, "with God, all things are possible".

I was sixteen once and sang "Dream the Impossible Dream" from a heart that was filled with altruism and nobility and adolescent hope. And then, I grew up and realized that most miracles happen when your sleeves are rolled up, your work boots are on, and there's a bead of sweat on your brow.

You may even have a few bruises on your body and scars on your heart, and your faith may be shaken, but you know, deep in every fiber of your being, that "this bridge called my back" will be part of what carries us from where we are to where we hope to be - one day, a day we may not see with our own eyes but through the eyes of our children and our children's children.

God works through our work. And, God loves us enough to let us make our own mistakes so we can learn the lessons we couldn't
learn any other way.

So, this is a day when I'm going to "keep my eye on the prize". When I'm going to stay focused on the last words of the poem I heard Amanda Gorman recite at Joe Biden's Inauguration in 2021:

"We will rise from the golden hills of the West.
We will rise from the windswept Northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution.
We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the Midwestern states.
We will rise from the sun-baked South.
We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover.
And every known nook of our nation and every corner called our country, our people diverse and beautiful, will emerge battered and beautiful.
When day comes, we step out of the shade aflame and unafraid.
The new dawn blooms as we free it.
For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it.
If only we’re brave enough to be it."

We are still locked in a battle for the soul of this nation. The spiritual war is still waging.

Let's do this.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

The Second Sunday after the Epiphany

 

Good Sunday morning, good pilgrims of The Epiphany Season. We are rolling right into the third of the Great Manifestations of the Incarnation.

The first was the visit of the Magi. The second was his Baptism (a bit off the timeline, but whatever). This week is the miracle at the Wedding Feast in Cana of Galilee. Next week will be Jesus' first sermon in the Temple.

Back to the Wedding. My friend Lindy - a brilliant writer, especially of biblical reflections - calls this story "The Secret Life of Miracles". As she points out, this miracle, his first public miracle, was done in secret - down where the water used for ritual was kept.

There was no wine. Mary, his mother, points that out to him. Why? Dunno. Except, of course, she knew. She knew he could do it. How? Dunno. Maybe he had been practicing around the house?

"Jesus? Jesus, we're out of ketchup. I've got some tomatoes here. Be a good boy and turn them into ketchup for me, please. No, that wood you're sawing for your father can wait. Now, son. I need it right away for the meatloaf."

Or, something.

It's important to note that Cana, like Nazareth, is a little town of absolutely no import. About 10 kilometers from Nazareth, it seems to have been a place most people only passed through on their way to somewhere else. Indeed, it is never mentioned in Hebrew Scripture but three times in Christian Scripture.

So, it is in this out-of-the-way, sleepy little town where nothing ever happens that Jesus performs his first miracle. In secret.

There's another aspect of this story that strikes me. Timing. The wedding hosts didn't know how to pace the serving of the wine so that it would last. Mary knew it was time for Jesus to perform his first miracle, but he, apparently, didn't.

And then, he did. Or, at least, he was convinced by his mother that his "hour had come". When Jesus finally decided that the time was right, he changed approximately 120 gallons of sacred water into wine.

It wasn't just wine, it was primo, top-shelf stuff. Even the wine steward mentioned it to the bridegroom, saying, "Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now."

That Jesus. Such an over-achiever! He got an A++ on his very first miracle. Which may have been the reason for his sense of timing. He wanted to be sure he could do his best.

Nah. I think the reason Jesus decided to listen to his mother can be found in the last part of the last sentence. " . . .and his disciples believed in him."

Me? I think he did it because he realized his mother was right. It was time. He needed to do this for his disciples. So they could believe in him. So they could believe in themselves. That, they could have the epiphany that they were right.

Jesus is the Anointed One.

Jesus is the Messiah.

Jesus is the Incarnation of God.

Off I go, then, into this day when yet another snowstorm is predicted.

In the meantime, please enjoy The Rowan Atkins translation of John's Gospel of the Wedding Feast at Cana. It is not (yet) approved by General Convention as an authorized text for public worship, but it is certifiably hilarious.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfRbtaoddIA

Epiphany XII: Ring the bell

Good Saturday morning, good pilgrims of The Epiphany Season.

See that woman in the picture above? The one in the white coat, holding flowers? In the picture on the left, she's standing next to her radiation team. She is "ringing the bell," and everyone is celebrating that she has finished this round of radiation.

She looks pretty good, right? Happiness can do that to a person, even though radiation has pretty much whipped her butt. All the other symptoms are manageable, but exhaustion? Well, exhaustion is a particular poison to a child of immigrants.

I remember, once, as a young child, being bored on a Saturday afternoon. I had done all my chores, and we didn't own a TV. It was raining outside so I couldn't ride my bike. My girlfriend, Maureen, had a cold, so I couldn't play with her. (Besides, her mother wouldn't let me in her house because I was a "dirty Portugee" but that's another story for another time.)

So, my grandmother looked at me and said, "What's wrong with you?" And I, (stupid, stupid girl) took a long, sad sigh and then said, "There's nothing to do."

"There's Nothing to do?" she said. "There's NOTHING to DOOOO?" "What do you mean, THERE'S NOTHING TO DOOO?"

And then, she fixed that problem right quick. For the next hour, I polished the "claw legs" under her dining room table, took off the knobs on her Victrola Radio and polished those, and then, I starched and ironed all the purificators for the church.

I never said those words again. Indeed, I don't think I've ever thought those words again. Now I think, "Hmm . .. what else needs to be done?"

This exhaustion shall pass. I am learning a new skill. I am pacing myself. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. But, I'm learning.

That other picture? Of the woman on the right, ringing the bell? That's a picture of an old dog who is learning new tricks. And, you know, she's not unhappy about it.

She's just happy to be finished with this phase of her treatment. She's also happy because she knows she's got a week to recover before she starts chemotherapy. She's delighted to look forward to feeling more like herself and maybe, just maybe, completing one of the many projects that have been on 'pause'.

It's a good day today. It's a brand new day, today. The page on this chapter of life is waiting to be turned and opened and written upon. It's a great day to be alive. It's a gift to be alive.

And, that would be enough (Dayenu), but there lies the within this day the distinct possibility that I might be able to be part of something good. Something kind. Something noble. Some little thing that will make a small difference on this day in this life for someone.

I am so grateful. And, that gratitude fills me with a sense of joy.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Epiphany XI: Amazement

Good Friday morning, good pilgrims of The Epiphany Season. It's another chilly January morning here on the Delmarva Peninsula. The water in front of our house is frozen solid. The Merganser ducks and other waterfowl are not pleased.

The only thing left to do is to simply wait it out until the season changes and the temperature warms as the days grow longer and the sun shines again. And, bundle up in a warm coat, a hat, and some gloves when you go outside. And, warm boots.

I woke up this morning, remembering something my grandmother said, "If you live long enough you will learn a few things. It doesn't mean you're smart or wise. It just means that you'll have acquired a lot of information. It's what you do with that information that makes you smart or wise."

Last night, I completed an entire category in Jeopardy, and then I completed the Double Jeopardy answer. And, it wasn't even Teen Week. Actually, it was The Second Chance Championship.

I even got a few answers that the panel didn't. I think I love it best when that happens. Especially when that happens several times in 30 minutes. That is second only to when I get the Final Jeopardy question and none of the rest of the panel does.

I remembered something I heard the brilliant actor, Emma Stone, say during an interview. She said that what she really, really, really wanted in life was to qualify to appear on Jeopardy. That was her goal. What happened after that was immaterial. She just wanted to qualify to appear on Jeopardy.

She said she had taken the online exam and it had been almost a year but she hadn't heard anything and was really starting to get concerned that she wouldn't make the cut. The interviewer suggested that perhaps she would be invited to Celebrity Jeopardy. Ms. Stone did not want that. "I want to be on Jeopardy with all the other smart people," she said.

And then she revealed that, because of her chosen profession, she had never graduated from high school or college. And, she said, this would be a marker of having attained and acquired enough information in her life that she had "accomplished something."

Mind you, Emma Stone is nothing if not an accomplished actor. She has won not one but two Academy Awards. She has also won two BAFAs (British Academy Film Awards), and two Golden Globe Awards. In 2017, she was the world's highest-paid actress and was named by Time magazine as one of the 100 most influential people in the world.

But, she doesn't have a high school diploma or college degree and all she wants is to qualify and be invited to play Jeopardy.

Isn't that amazing? Aren't we humans odd creatures? Indeed, we may well be the oddest of all of God's creatures.

When the water freezes, Mergansers and other ducks and waterfowl move to open water or migrate to warmer climates. That's not a decision they've made based on information they got at The Elementary School for Ducks and Other Waterfowl.

I know humans who have acquired lots of information in their lives, but they aren't as smart as some ducks. Indeed, as I've observed some of my wildlife neighbors over the years - especially the red foxes, deer, rabbits, and turtles - some of these creatures appear not only smart but quite wise, especially as they tend to and feed their young.

Don't get me wrong, I'm as pleased as I can be with my accomplishment last night. It doesn't prove a thing, however, about my value or worth as a person. It's not a real measure of my intelligence or abilities. It certainly has little or no connection to any wisdom I may have.

No, I think one of the greatest measures of our growth and development, and maturation as a member of the human species is our ability to be compassionate and kind. Because those qualities come from a heart that is filled with gratitude. And, a heart that is filled with gratitude beats in the chest of a human being who understands that all of this life, this very brief time on this very fragile planet, is a gift.

The true measure of the advancement and achievement of our skills and knowledge and wisdom can not really be calculated because it lies in our ability to be amazed.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel once said that we should get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. It is to understand that "everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible".

I believe that a heart that is filled with gratitude could never treat life casually. Rabbi Heschel said, "To be spiritual is to be amazed."

I think this is what Rabbi Jesus meant when he said that people should become like children to enter the kingdom of heaven.

Somewhere I have a video of one of our grandchildren laughing uproariously as her mother reads "Goodnight Moon." I remember showing that clip to one of my mentors who said, "That's the way it should be when we hear the Gospel in church. It should be such incredibly good news that we giggle like children with pure joy and delight and amazement."

While I think it may piss God off if we don't use the intelligence and skills and talents with which we were blessed to do good in this life, being amazed by the wonders of God as a child is amazed and delighted by simple pleasures is the real measure of our achievement as humans who are spiritual beings.

As Ann Lamott writes, WOW is one of three essential prayers. The other two are HELP and THANKS.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

PS: Please continue to pray for the people in California as they struggle to recover from the devastation of this catastrophic fire.

Epiphany X: It's up to us

Good Thursday morning, good pilgrims of The Epiphany Season. The cold weather - 15 degrees this morning - is rather shocking to the system. Thank God we are blessed to have this wee cozy cottage. Our warmest thoughts and deepest prayers are with our siblings in California who have lost their homes or sustained terrible damage to them, and especially those who have lost the lives of their loved ones.

For many of us, the world feels increasingly out of control. Even with the good news of the cease-fire in Israel-Palestine, the next thirty days are very fragile. So many things could happen - might happen - to cause the whole thing to come crumbling down.

President Biden's farewell speech last night was a work of political brilliance. He did not waste time on self-accolades but simply, briefly highlighted the major accomplishments of his administration.

He said the word: Oligarchy. Said it. Right in front of God and the whole country - indeed, the international stage. He blew the trumpet in Zion, to sanctify a fast and gather a solemn assembly to stay together and stand fast in the democratic principles that founded this great nation.

The Statue of Liberty, he reminded us, was masterfully designed to sway a little when the storms rage. And, he cautioned, so must we.

I could hear Motormouth Maybelle somewhere in my head saying, "Well, love is a gift, a lot of people don't remember that. So, you two better brace yourselves for a whole lotta ugly comin' at you from a neverending parade of stupid."

"It's up to you," he said.

The smooth transition of power is not going to be from one administration to another, but from one former POTUS to the American people.

It's up to us.

We live in a representative democracy. The key to a successful democracy is a highly participatory citizenry. You know what that means: We are going to have to start showing up. We are going to have to start speaking out. And, if you've already been doing that, you've got to start inspiring others to do the same.

Each one, teach one. That was one of the slogans of the Civil Rights Movement. Now is the time to bring that back.

Most importantly, we are going to have to be radical. By that I mean, orthodox. By which I mean "back to our roots."

We are going to have to be intentionally kind to each other.

That feels an impossible vocation in a political culture and climate where cruelty is the point.

No, it doesn't mean that we lie down and let people walk all over us - not unless it is part of an act of peaceful protest.

No, it does not mean that we smile while acts of cruelty are being done in our name. It means that we do not honor cruelty and stupidity by engaging with it. Smile and walk away. And then, work in small groups to agitate, to be subversive, to prevent the emerging social paradigm of cruelty from the place of dominance it is insistent on claiming.

President Biden modeled the calm, kind but strong, insistent, and persistent demeanor we are all going to need to adapt if we are going to get through the next two years before we can take back at least one branch of government.

My mantra these days is "Be kind. Be kind. Be kind." I have to say that, over and over, because honestly? That's not my first impulse. However, it's as MLK Jr said, ""Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that."

And, the second is like unto it, from the words of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar at the All India Depressed Classes conference in 1942 in India: "Educate. Agitate. Organize."

My daily prayer includes these words from MLK, Jr's letter from the Birmingham Jail. "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly."

It's up to us, now. Let's stay focused and do this. We got a whole lotta ugly that's going to come at us from a neverending parade of stupid. Like the Lady with the Lamp in the harbor, we're going to have to learn to sway in the upcoming storm.

We can do this. Together.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Epiphany IX: Stones of Hope

 
Good Wednesday morning, good pilgrims of The Epiphany Season. Today is the 96th anniversary of the birth of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., born on this day in Atlanta, GA (1929). He is best known for his work as a leader during the civil rights movement and his commitment to nonviolence.

I don't know about you, but today I need to sit down and shut up and listen to his words rather than my own. Now, more than ever, I need that stone of hope he talked about because today, 5 days before the inauguration of a convicted felon, a narcissistic, self-confessed sexual predator, and an adjudicated rapist, I feel caught on a rising mountain of despair.

In the days to come, may we all strive to reach the "majestic heights of moral maturity." God knows we're going to need it.

On April 4th, 1967, King delivered a speech called "Beyond Vietnam," in which he strongly denounced America's involvement in the Vietnam War. He was concerned that the war was recruiting poor and minority soldiers, that it was draining resources from much-needed social programs at home, and that it was an unjust war anyway, targeting the poor people of Vietnam.

He said, "A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death."

Throughout the next year, he continued to speak out against the war, and said that the civil rights movement and the peace movement should come together for greater strength. He began a "Poor People's Campaign" to fight economic inequality.

On April 4th, 1968, exactly one year after his first anti-war speech, King was assassinated while he was standing on the balcony of his Memphis motel room. He was preparing to lead a protest march in solidarity with garbage workers who were on strike.

He knew of the dangers. He said, "If a man hasn't discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live."

These words are taken from his last speech.

"Strangely enough, I would turn to the Almighty, and say, "If you allow me to live just a few years in the second half of the 20th century, I will be happy."

Now that's a strange statement to make, because the world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land; confusion all around. That's a strange statement. But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough can you see the stars. And I see God working in this period of the twentieth century in a way that men, in some strange way, are responding."

"Men, for years now, have been talking about war and peace. But now, no longer can they just talk about it. It is no longer a choice between violence and nonviolence in this world; it's nonviolence or nonexistence. That is where we are today."

"Now, what does all of this mean in this great period of history? It means that we've got to stay together. We've got to stay together and maintain unity. You know, whenever Pharaoh wanted to prolong the period of slavery in Egypt, he had a favorite, favorite formula for doing it. What was that?"

"He kept the slaves fighting among themselves. But whenever the slaves get together, something happens in Pharaoh's court, and he cannot hold the slaves in slavery. When the slaves get together, that's the beginning of getting out of slavery. Now let us maintain unity."

"Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop."

"And I don't mind."

"Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!"

"And so I'm happy, tonight."

"I'm not worried about anything."

"I'm not fearing any man!"

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!!"

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Epiphany VIII: Silence of the lambs

Good Tuesday morning, good citizens of The Epiphany Season. It's one of those cold mornings in January on the Delmarva Peninsula. The high today is predicted to be 31 degrees. Life is good, just cold. Well, outside.

No, actually, that's not true. There's a coldness in my heart this morning that is disturbing to me. I need to say something to someone that will be difficult to do. The question is do I really need to say it or are some things really better left unsaid?

Is it better to "clear the air" or to walk away for a while and check in on the air quality later?

Is it really that important an issue or is it just a big deal right now? And, if it's a big deal right now, what is it in my life right now that is making it so? Or, is it just the accumulation of small, paper-cut grievances that makes it so annoying right this very red hot second?

David Siegenthaler was one of my professors and mentors at EDS (Episcopal Divinity School). He was one of the sweetest men in the universe, quirky and nerdy and occasionally hilariously funny, but always warm and loving and kind. He also had a rapier wit which, when combined with his occasionally biting sarcasm, made for a devastating combination.

It all combined to make him an unforgettable character.

It was David who gave me the best GOE advice: While you're showing them how much you know, don't forget to answer the question. See what I mean?

David also gave me some important guidance in pastoral leadership - something I didn't know I needed to know. Two things, actually.

First, he said that I was always to remember and never to forget that I was not the hero some proclaimed me to be; neither was I the villain some were certain that I was. And, to never, ever believe my own press releases.

Even more importantly, he said that there will always be someone in the church who will write you a letter that contains things about you that are simply not true; accusations will be made that have nothing to do with either reality or truth.

And, he said, you will want to answer that letter and defend yourself. And, you should. Just write out the letter, finish it, and then, tuck it in your drawer and leave it there for three days. And then, after three days, take it out and read it. If it's still what you want to say, the way you want to say it, send it. If not, rip it up and consider whether or not you want to respond to it at all; and if so, how.

I didn't always take that advice. When I didn't, I always regretted it. When I did, I was always deeply grateful.

I think I just answered my own question.

Off I go then.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Epiphany VII: Resources

 

Good Monday morning, good citizens of The Epiphany Season. I have two resources I wanted to make sure to share with you, in case you need them for yourself or someone in your life.

I think they are revelations, "showings," manifestations of God's light in a particular time of darkness.

There are lots of good resources for understanding and living with Breast Cancer which is so important on so many levels, not the least of which is that cancer threatens your life even while it is taking from you or disfiguring a part of your body that defines you, at least externally, as a woman.

The first is "Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book." by Susan M. Love, MD. The NY Times calls it "A de facto bible for breast cancer patients". That has been my exact experience. (PS The latest is the 7th edition.)

Now, I must say that my hospital and the Cancer Center have been excellent in terms of providing written resources. They teach, teach, teach, all the time, which empowers their patients and families. I have a binder **this thick** with resources and information from them which has been very helpful.

And, nothing can touch Dr. Love's Breast Book. It has a "voice," you know? It's not just a sterile, medical manual or a flat, one-dimensional, bullet-point, illustrated "resource sheet". You get the distinct sense that behind every word is a very skilled, highly experienced doctor who wants to ensure you have all the information you need to actively participate in your health care.

One of the nurses at The Breast Center told me that "informed patients are a joy to work with. You not only make our work so much easier, you make it more rewarding." I told her about Dr. Love's book and she couldn't have agreed more.

Dr. Love died of recurrent leukemia in 2003 but she leaves not only this book but the National Breast Cancer Coalition which provides ongoing, invaluable research and resources to women (and men and transpeople) with breast cancer.

If someone you know or love is diagnosed with breast cancer and you want to "do something to help" ask if they have this book. If they don't buy it for them. It's a bit intimidating, so when you give it to them remind them it's not a "novel". You don't sit down one evening in front of the fire to be entertained by it.

It's a godsend for de-mystifying a horrible, frightening process for breast cancer patients and those who love them. Dr. Love's "voice" is clear, sensible, kind, and thoughtful, with an occasional appearance of a very gentle sense of humor. All of those qualities are necessary when you're faced with cancer. This book will help.

The second book is "The Desert Shall Rejoice: Psalms from the Wilderness of Breast Cancer" by Susan E. Goff. Susan Goff is a visual artist, writer, and PS&OBTW, in 2012, became the first woman elected bishop in The Episcopal Diocese of Virginia.

What Bishop Goff has done is chronicle her journey through Breast Cancer with Psalms, tracing the events from the initial screening mammogram, through her treatment, and onto her "cancerversary." As the blurb on the book jacket says, "The Psalms reflect a journey filled with sorrow, laughter, and (mostly) unshakable hope."

I have given a copy of this book to my surgeon, my radiation oncologist, and my medical oncologist. I've also sent a copy to a dear friend - a sister of my heart - who is fighting another form of cancer. Although this is a book about a woman's journey through breast cancer, this is more about the spiritual battle of a very frightening disease than it is about the specific form of it.

Here's a sample:

Psalm Against
“At Least”
Susan E. Goff

O God, when they start a sentence with “At least,”
please silence their tongues.
When they want to encourage me with “At least,”
please mute their voices.
At least they caught it early.
At least the tumor is small.
At least they don’t do radical mastectomies anymore.
At least you are healthy and strong.
At least you’re still young.
At least you’ve got good insurance.
At least you know that God is with you.
At least you’ll only have four infusions.
At least you’ll only have sixteen radiation treatments.
At least.
At least.
At least.

I don’t want at least.
I don’t want any of the least of these.
I don’t want the pittance
the leftovers
the lowest
the minimum.
I want the most of life
and healing
and grace
and love.
I claim the most of all that you intend, O God.
Life abundant. Even here. Even now.

So when they begin their consolation with “At least,”
let me smile kindly,
trust that they intend more,
and claim the most.

If someone you know or love is diagnosed with breast cancer and you want to "do something to help" ask if they have this book. If they don't, buy it for them.

Bishop Susan's voice, like the voice of many ancient psalmists, is one of searing honesty, generous and startling candor, humor - sometimes "gallows" other times irreverent, wisdom that has been born of pain and suffering, prophetic challenge, compassion for herself and others, and, mostly, love. She's also not afraid to drop an "F-bomb" when that's appropriate.

There are many, many other resources for those who are on The Breast Cancer Camino. These are two I have come to cherish. One provides solid, necessary information; the other provides bedrock spirituality and a way to pray, especially when words seem inadequate or impossible to find.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Epiphany VI: The Baptism of Our Lord

 

Good Sunday morning, good citizens of The Epiphany Season. On the liturgical calendar, we are celebrating the Baptism of Jesus, which doesn't have anything to do with him being an infant and going to church with his parents and godparents.

You can read all about it in the Gospel appointed for today, which is Luke 3:15-17, 21-22.

I've been meditating on this passage most of the week, and I've been caught up by the evangelical notion of the connection between baptism and being "born again".

In Greek understanding, "born again" is more accurately translated as "born from above," as the key Greek word, "anothen" primarily means "from above" rather than "again".

It's a spiritual rebirth, which makes perfect sense for Jesus's adult baptism by his cousin John in the River Jordan, but seems rather silly when linked to the baptism of an infant who has quite literally just been born.

I know one priest who, when the baby howled as the water was poured over their head, would always comment that this was evidence that part of the purpose of baptism was "exorcism". She would actually say, out loud, in the midst of the congregation, in front of the parents and godparents, "Well, there goes Satan."

She was serious. She was a smart woman. She seemed an otherwise good priest and pastor. Her Episcopal seminary, at least at the time, was held in high esteem.

I suspect that was at least one of the things she was taught and she embraced it fully. Perhaps she needed to feel more powerful than she actually was, poor soul.

Now, look, before you "go there," I just want to say - if you haven't already figured this out - that I'm pretty orthodox in my theology. I hold in high esteem the Two Great Sacraments (Baptism and Eucharist) and I have a deep affection for the five sacramental acts.

For the life of me, I've never figured out why Foot Washing is not one of the Sacramental Acts. I mean, it's as clear as the Eucharist that this is what Jesus wanted us to do.

I think there is more scriptural Foot Washing than Confirmation, but, you know, if I were going to have a headstone on my grave, I would have them carve the same words I once saw on a gravestone at Mount Auburn Cemetery in MA:

"Nobody asked me."

There is great symbolism to baptism. That's the nature of sacraments. An initiation or a test of patience, strength, or endurance is often called "a baptism of fire."

When I hear evangelicals talk about being "born again" I hear a metaphor for a movement from death to life, from the darkness of the brokenness of anger and separation to reconciliation; from the death of a life of addiction to recovery and renewal.

The words "saved" and "deliverance" are often used in conjunction with that understanding of being "born again". I've heard people say, "I was delivered from my addiction". Or "He was saved from a life of sin."

Which is fine. It's wonderful, in fact. Healing. Restorative. Life-giving. Redemptive. Sacramental.

So, yes, one can be born again and again. I certainly have had that experience. Several times in my life, actually.

I think the whole coming out process is a "baptism of fire". It's a process of being "born again" into a deeper understanding of the fullness of one's identity.

As a matter of fact, it doesn't happen just once. It's a lifelong process, akin to peeling the thin layers of an onion skin, which involves about the same amount of stinging and tears.

Based on my conversations over many years with friends and acquaintances, I suspect those who have the chronic, life-threatening disease of addiction feel much the same way. You have this one moment of clarity that leads to your sobriety but the only way to stay sober is, as any addict will tell you, "one day at a time."

I've had one person tell me that he is "born again every day into a new life of recovery." I think that's how he stays sober.

It's my experience that people who have received a diagnosis of a disease with a terminal implication, once they accept it, often experience a spiritual sense of being "born again." They feel committed to a new direction in their life, new meaning, new purpose, to live out whatever time they have left on this earth in making a difference.

People who struggle with the chronic, life-threatening disease of depression can have much the same experience, although I have heard more associations with resurrection than baptism.

Jonathan Kozol's book, "Ordinary Resurrections," gets its title from something my friend the Rev. Robert Corbin Morris once said. Talking about his lifelong struggle with depression, Bob said, "We all lie down. We all rise up. We do this every day. These are ordinary resurrections."

Jonathan Kozol writes, "I think God finds consolation in the tiny triumphs over daily oppressions by the least noticed of us, in the plainest places."

I think God is born again in those tiny triumphs in the plainest places.

The church claims "one faith, one hope, one Lord, one baptism," but the evangelicals are right: we are "born again" over and over, sometimes several times in one day.

The deal is that there is no one way or right way to be "born again". It's not something you can prescribe or proscribe or determine for someone else.

It's as Julian of Norwich said that Jesus our “true Mother” from whom we receive our beginning, our true being, protection, and love. In Jesus, we are all born again. And again. And, again.

But we only need to be baptized once.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Epiphany V: Baptism

Good Saturday morning, good citizens of The Epiphany Season. There are freezing temperatures to report but it's lovely and cozy warm here at Llangollen, our wee cottage on Rehoboth Bay.

We've had enough snow which is now covering frozen icy-snow left over from our earlier storm that we have decided we are not going anywhere today or tomorrow. It will be "St. Peter's on YouTube" tomorrow at 10 AM.

Over at the Lectionary Page, I am reminded that the first scriptural manifestation of the glory of God in this Epiphany Season is the Baptism of Jesus. That will be followed by the Wedding Feast at Cana, the first sermon of Jesus in the Temple, and then The Feast of the Presentation in the Temple.

Yes, the time sequence of his lifeline is way off, but it is in keeping with the organizing principle of The Church Fathers: Truth by Blatant Assertion.

My meditation and prayer time this morning was filled with the memories of a woman I baptized in 1998, 27 years ago when I was Canon Missioner to The Oasis in the esteemed Diocese of Newark (New Jersey).

She announced herself a transwoman within seconds after entering my office but she needn't have. She was dressed like an old, dowdy librarian, complete with a pleated skirt, cardigan sweater over a blouse with a Peter Pan collar, wearing argyle socks and penny loafers. Black. With an actual penny in them.

She had that "librian's edge," you know? I felt like any minute she would raise her eyebrow, put a finger over her lips, and silently tell me to hush.

It was only a matter of seconds after we exchanged pleasantries that she came abruptly to the point. She was a transwoman. She had undergone both medical and surgical treatment. Her birth certificate and driver's license now reflected her true identity. Now, she wanted her baptismal record to do the same.

"I want, I need, I must," she said, with a tinge of anger that anticipated rejection, "be re-baptized."

I can only imagine her anxiety. Taking on the medical establishment, the town hall and the DMV were small potatoes compared with taking on the institutional church.

I tried to win her confidence by explaining that I thought I had a small inkling about why this was important to her. I told her the story of the time, in 1980, when I wanted to legally change my name - not back to the name I had before I was married (quaintly referred to as a "maiden name"), but to a family name.

We were living in Maine. I went to the husband of a coworker who was an attorney. He handed me some forms and told me to fill them out and then have my husband sign his . . . ready for this? . .. **permission** for me to change my name.

I won't go into all the details here, but it provided me enough credibility with this transwoman to help her understand that I at least had some empathy for her request.

She honored that by trusting me with the story of her journey which, 27 years ago, was a fairly horrific tale.

I then carefully and gently explained the theology of "one baptism" but also assured her that I understood her request. I promised that I would talk with the bishop, Jack Spong at the time, and call her as soon as I had an answer.

I met with Jack the next day and apprised him of the situation. Just as I thought, he loved the challenge. One of the best parts of the job was being present in those moments when I could see his theological mind working things through.

He said, "Well, Elizabeth, to my understanding, we don't baptize bodies, we baptize souls. God knew who she was even before she or anyone else understood her complete identity."

"We baptized her soul, not her gender," he said. "What she is looking for is some recognition of that fact from the church."

"So, it seems to me that the challenge before us is to develop some ritual, some liturgy, which acknowledges her identity as a child of God, her status as a fully baptized member of the church, and welcomes the wholeness and holiness of her body and soul into the church."

Jack was nothing if not a pragmatist so I was mildly surprised when he called me a few hours later to insist that this liturgy must include all the symbolic elements of the baptism: Water. Alit candle. A white robe. The Lord's Prayer in its traditional form. Of course, the renewal of Baptismal Vows. Instead of "I baptize you," we should say, "I name you . . . in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit."

When I called her to tell her all this, there was a long silence at the other end of the phone. Just as my anxiety caused me to squirm in my seat, I heard a huge sob and realized that she was crying.

When she was able she said, "Oh, this is so much more than I thought would be possible. I was convinced it wouldn't happen. That's because I had listened to all the haters who told me that who I am is against the will of God. That's not true, is it?"

No, it's not, I told her. The only things left to do are to find a rector and a church you can join, pick out your sponsors and a date, and get ready to say, in honesty and integrity and all truth, "The Episcopal Church Welcomes You."

I think the most important sentence in Luke's telling of the baptism of Jesus is: "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."

We all need that recognition. We all need that affirmation. With recognition and affirmation, we can find the confidence to be the whole person God has created us to be, body, mind, and soul.

I remember saying with great confidence the prayer just before we "named" her. I especially love this part: "Sustain her, O Lord, in your Holy Spirit. Give her an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works. Amen."

" ... the courage to will and to persevere..." Amen. Amen. Amen.

Now, of course, we have several "Naming Liturgies" in the approved liturgical resource Enriching Our Worship. Back then, however, we were pretty much on our own.

Looking back, all in all, I think we did okay. As a brother activist once said to me, "We didn't know we were on 'the cutting edge' of theology. We only knew that, when we tried to do new things, it hurt and it drew blood."

I know she went on, in the words of the Confirmation Prayer, to "daily increase in your Holy Spirit more and more," eventually becoming Head Librarian in her town, where she was loved and cherished by children and adults, the elderly and infirmed, the rich and the poor, of all races, ethnicities and genders, for being the frumpy, quirky, unique, intelligent, caring, compassionate person God intended when she was created.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.
 

Sr. Helena Barrett

 

This was written by Louie Crew Clay in 2015.

"January 1, 1977 was the first day that the new canons allowed women to be ordained to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church, and nine days later, i.e., on this very day (January 10) in 1977, Rt. Rev. Paul Moore, Jr., Bishop of New York, ordained Dr. Ellen Marie Barrett. Before that, she had been co-president of Integrity (with James Wickliff). With the ordination she became the first out lesbian priest in the Anglican Communion.

All hell howled. For over a year, foul screeds circulated ad nauseam in many media of The Episcopal Church, especially in letters to editors. It was as if Beelzebub were giving arsenic to TEC swig by swig.

In 2002 Bishop Moore celebrated at the mass marking the 25th anniversary of Ellen's ordination. At the reception afterwards, he quipped, "Louie, if I had known then what we know now, I could have said, 'Why the fuss? I am just ordaining a future nun.'"

Ellen is now known a Sr. Helena, a Solemnly Professed Sister, Companions of Our Lady and St Mungo, Diocese of Glasgow and Galloway, Scotland, UK.

I had the great joy of visiting with her and her significant other Alison Whybrow (Sr. Alison Joy) a few years ago after I had made pilgrimage to Iona. We shared lots of memories and a delicious pizza.

Sr. Helena has been a role model for me, a cherished counselor and guide, a teacher, and a friend.

Please rejoice with me for this blessing of and to the church.

Epiphany IV: Radical Resilience

 

Good Friday morning, good people of The Epiphany Season. It's a bright, bright, sunshiny day. It's a freezing cold (24 degrees) sunshiny day but it is beautiful and bright.

We're expecting another snowstorm late tonight or early tomorrow morning. That's the bad news. The good news is that the amount of snow predicted has been significantly reduced to only 1-3 inches. Piece of cake after the 10 inches we just got.

The bad news is that the new snow will be falling on packed snow and ice that has canceled schools and closed businesses all week long. Indeed, two rural Episcopal churches I know have already canceled mass/services for Sunday because the "auxiliary roads" are still treacherous.

It seems absolutely bizarre to be sitting here when it is freezing cold outside whilst anticipating another snowstorm when Southern California is on fire.

The information I have at this moment from NPR is that there have been 10 deaths, almost 35,000 acres burned, and over 10,000 structures destroyed in LA County, with only 6% containment in the Palasaides Fire and 0% containment in the Eaton Fire.

About 180,000 people have had to evacuate and another 200,000 people are under evacuation warnings, the LA County Sheriff's Department said.

The estimate of total damage and economic loss to the region is placed at between $135 billion to $150 billion.

St. Matthew's Church in Pacific Palisades, where one of my seminary classmates is rector, lost both rectories. As I write this, it's still not clear if the church is standing. St. Mark's Church in Altadena has been completely destroyed.

My friend of many decades, and colleague and fellow activist, Susan Russell, and her beloved Lori Kizza have been evacuated from their home with their three dogs. She reports, "We are safe, exhausted, sad beyond words...." As of last evening, their house was still in the active fire zone.

All of this is happening as the POTUS-elect will be sentenced this morning in the New York hush-money case, meaning he will become the first president to have been sentenced for a criminal conviction once he's sworn into office on January 20th. His lawyers objected that this would be "potentially embarrassing" to the POTUS and a distraction from his work.

Also this week, an Appeals Court refused to block the release of special counsel Jack Smith’s findings on Donald Trump’s efforts to undo the results of the 2020 presidential election. The objection was that this would be "damaging" to the POTUS and also "distracting".

One of the deep ironies, of course, is that of the 51 things the new resident of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. has said he will do on Day One - including reducing the price of groceries, rounding up all the "illegal immigrants" and ending the war in Ukraine - is to "release the J6 hostages" - by which he means he will pardon all of the approximately 1500 people charged with federal crimes related to the January 2021 insurrection.

The world seems absolutely out of control. That's because, on one level, it is. And, that's not necessarily a bad thing. It often means that something is being destroyed so that something new can emerge.

Chaos theory states that within the apparent randomness of chaotic complex systems, there are underlying patterns, interconnection, constant feedback loops, repetition, self-similarity, fractals, and self-organization. A metaphor for this behavior is that a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can cause a tornado in Texas.

In my daily meditations since September, as the reality of cancer has begun to sink into a deeper understanding, the words that have come to me over and over again are "radical resilience".

As I've sat with this and read about the psychological, scriptural, historical, cultural, and political aspects of resistance, I'm learning that "radical resilience" is not simply "getting over" a period of time when there's been such enormous change or damage that there is no going back to the way things were.

Rather, "radical resilience" is the work of coming through adversity, or chaos, or loss with a deeper sense of acceptance and compassion for ourselves so that we can embrace the change necessary to be more of who we are called to be.

Radical resilience is not "bouncing back" but walking through. A long walk. With lots of bumps and obstacles along the way.

It's radical because the journey takes you to your roots, to "the middle of the middle" of your identity and sense of purpose, and even your relationship with others and to the world.

Radical resilience is soul work. It's what I'm in the process of doing in this "treatment phase" of my cancer diagnosis. I think radical resilience is the process in which this nation is about to engage. It started, I think, with the gut punch we all felt after the disastrous performance of the first Presidential debate.

Suddenly, we saw for ourselves that "the old" was literally not working the way we thought it should or expected it would. We knew something had to change. What we didn't know was that change was already happening and we were going to have to adapt and make changes.

Unfortunately, we started the process behind a large curve, and though we only lost by less than 1% of the popular vote - an impressive achievement in and of itself - it still was not enough to overcome the movement to bring about change through destruction.

Here's the thing: Brene Brown is absolutely right. Movements for innovation and creativity start with failure. Or, at least, a sense of one. Or, as Rahm Emanuel once said, never let a good crisis go to waste.

I wonder what change will happen in a place like California, which has the highest number of homeless people in the country, now that so many who have lived in comfortable and even affluent homes have seen their dwelling places reduced to rubble.

I wonder what changes will happen in a place like Delaware, which hasn't had a snowstorm like this since 2010 but has not made any changes since and can not afford to lose another entire week's worth of business and school and health care because it can not adequately clear its roads.

I wonder what changes - what innovation and creativity - we will see in this country in response to the hostile takeover of our democratic system by a narcissistic, corrupt, adjudicated sexual predator and fraud who intends to turn our democracy into an autocratic dictatorship.

Perhaps we will learn, finally, that the success of a representative democracy is dependent on a highly participatory citizenry.

I can't imagine living in a more potentially amazing time.

That's all for now. That's more than enough for now. If you've read this far, you get extra points for attention and participation. I look forward to your reactions/responses.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.