Freeing verse

Ever since I visited Professor Murphy at the Sewanee Writer's Conference I've been thirsty for more understanding of the historical development of poetry and the styles of certain poets. I am definitely not a poet; I don't have the sense of language that is required. My thinking is too rationalistic. I don't 'see' like a poet. But I like fooling around with words. 

So, I've been reading a lot of poetry lately. Nourishment has come from a simple book: Risking Everything: 110 Poems of Love and Revelation, edited by Roger Housden. (He edits other books of poetry.) From this book I have been fed by Mary Oliver, Naomi Shihab Nye,Fleur Adcock, Czeslaw Milosz, Robert Bly, Galway Kinnell, Pablo Neruda, E. E. Cummings, Rumi, David Whyte, Rainer Maria Rilke, and others. 

Reading and rereading these poems has given me a sense of the Presence. Poets assist us in breaking through the veil. They take us beneath the surface of the ordinary. They breathe hope into our lungs.

Now I'm chasing Wm. Wordsworth and Tennyson. At this location in my journey the Romantics and the Transcendentalists resonate with my longings. I checked out a book on Wordsworth--essays on his writings. I love his feeling for the 'motion and spirit...that rolls through all things'; and for his sense of the sublime. 

I think that for people who feel alienated from organized religion, poetry can become a source of strength and revelation. 

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Faith Journey

FAITH JOURNEY STATEMENT

E. Wayne McLaughlin

 

I grew up in a fundamentalist Southern Baptist Church in Louisville, KY. I was active in every aspect of the church's life; I believed in the inerrancy of Scripture, felt the heavy responsibility of saving souls from hell, and was immersed in the study of the Bible. At age eight I professed Christ as my Savior and was baptized. At age ten I publicly announced my 'call to preach.'

Ironically, it was in a liberal arts Baptist College that my mind was opened to a more realistic view of Scripture and a more ecumenical understanding of faith. My teacher, Glen Stassen, and a mentor, John Claypool, challenged me to focus on the prophetic tradition of the Bible and the central place of grace in God's purposes. In a Baptist seminary I continued to grow in theological understanding, reading the same texts as the Presbyterian seminarians not far from our campus, with the exception of matters of polity and sacraments.

Feeling the tightness of my 'Baptist shoes,' I began to consider alternatives. I settled on the Presbyterian Church and jumped through the hoops to receive a call in 1978. I suddenly felt at home. During the previous couple of years I had been reading liberation and feminist theologies and finding them speaking to my heart. I also discovered the writings of the monk, Thomas Merton, and the psychologist, Albert Ellis (Rational Emotive Behavioral Therapy). Their writings became sources of spiritual nourishment.

During college I began having panic attacks, depression and anxiety. This became a source of embarrassment to me, and I struggled with the spiritual meaning of these debilitating experiences for many years. Through much education, therapy, and with the help of medication, I finally came to a place of self-acceptance, which to me was a great experience of the grace of God.

As I served pastorates in Indiana and Ohio, I attended numerous seminars on Jewish-Christian dialogue; I began to study Buddhist philosophy and practice meditation off and on; I was helped by the theology of the Catholic writer Karl Rahner; I took an interest in Interim Ministry as a specialty and took the training at Montreat; my theological perspective becoming more liberal; and I served an ecumenically yoked parish consisting of Presbyterian and Lutheran congregations.

Along the way I have found keeping a journal a means of prayer and self-discovery. Being part of a monthly clergy support group for several years was an experience of honest feedback and affirmation that helped me discern God's will.

The main spiritual issues for me have been self-acceptance and fear of death. Being a very rationalistic and analytical person, I have had to continually open myself up to the Mystery at the heart of life. In Christ's death and resurrection I have found hope and grace and rest.

On January 1^st this year my wife (Pat) and I took early retirement so that we could move to Birmingham and be near our daughter (Glory), son-in-law (Jim) and granddaughter (Norah). Little Norah who is 2 ½ years old said to me the other day as I left her house, "Goodbye, you funny guy." I do have a sense of humor, which is also part of the grace of God at work in my life.

My statement of faith

FAITH STATEMENT

E. Wayne McLaughlin – written June 2010

 

I observe ants on the ground carrying out their well-organized projects; I watch bees pollinate flowers, playing their significant role in an organically interconnected system of life; I look at photos of distant galaxies on NASA's website; I feel cold chills go up and down my spine, and I sense the holy mystery of life. I trust myself to this Holy Mystery that the Church has come to know as Father/Son/Spirit.

In the first century C.E. a Jewish man 'went about doing good, empowered by the Holy Spirit.' A movement gathered around this man Jesus. My framework for finding life's meaning has been within this movement—the Church. From the beginning the Church has ritualized God's birthing Womb in baptism and the continuing aliveness of Jesus in the Lord's Supper.

In the narrative of Holy Writ I hear the voice of God calling us to love all people, to take care of the created world, to bring people together, to heal the wounds of the world, to visit the sick, to comfort the dying, to protect and nurture children, and to plant the fecund seeds of the gladdening Word throughout the world.

I experience the Holy One in many ways. I believe life is sacramental. The Spirit speaks to us through the Bible, sermons, novels, movies, theater, poetry, comedy, friendships, religions, crises, tragedies, therapy, music, dreams, thoughts, pets, science, and many other ways. In God we live and move and have our being.

Through my study of Scripture I have come to believe that gays and lesbians, if called by God, should be eligible for ordination. I believe that gays and lesbians, if they have the vocation of marriage, should be allowed to marry like anyone else. My study of the Bible has also led me to believe human personhood begins at birth, and that women have the right to choose what is best for everyone concerned in regard to their pregnancies.

I believe in free will because I have no other choice. I believe that sometimes you have to set aside your principles and do what is right. I believe that when the book and the bird disagree you should believe the bird. I believe I am accepted in Jesus Christ, and that nothing can separate me from the love of God.

Having been born in Bowling Green, KY, which is approximately midway between the birth places of Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis, I believe I am called to a ministry of reconciliation.

Having been raised as a fundamentalist Southern Baptist and having journeyed to the other end of the theological spectrum, I understand how people's minds can change and how minds can be stuck in one place. I have indwelt both conservatism and liberalism. I find that the shoe of liberalism fits me, therefore I wear it in the service of Jesus. I believe that since humans have limited and relative perspectives, we need to learn from one another. I could be wrong about some things. I need to keep learning from my colleagues; all of you are my teachers.

For me the bottom line is this: I put my life in God's hands—the God I have come to know through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. John the Dipper was right: Jesus is the Lamb of God who has taken away the sin of the world. Paul the Apostle was right: those who are plunged into Christ are part of a new creation; the world looks different; love reigns; there is hope. Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.


  
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Can Buddha help?

Like many people in our modern, scientific world, Paul Knitter has trouble making sense of some traditional Christian beliefs: like a God who is one, yet three; like an everlasting hell; like talking to an invisible Big Person in the sky. Knitter is a Catholic theologian who taught for many years at Xavier University in Cincinnati. He also has studied Buddhism for decades and practiced Buddhist forms of meditation. His most recent book is entitled, Without Buddha I Could Not be a Christian.

This book is not for everyone; but it will be helpful for many of us. Knitter tackles the theological problem of 'dualism'—which makes the Christian God seem far away and disconnected to the real world. He emphasizes the symbolic nature of all words and all language. He encourages the use of the 'sacrament of silence' as part of the Christian practice.

I think his explanation of the Buddhist notion of 'mindfulness' as acceptance is profoundly helpful. He doesn't back away from controversial doctrines. He writes:

I simply don't believe in hell because I simply can't. The square peg of eternal punishment just doesn't fit into the round hole of God's love.

Knitter goes on the reinterpret the Atonement and the Resurrection. At each step he describes how putting on 'Buddhist glasses' helps him see these beliefs in a different way—a way that makes more sense to him. He keeps coming back to Galatians 2.20:

It is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives in me.

What is of utmost importance for Knitter is being awakened to the unity between all people and God. To experience God is more important than theorizing about God. He quotes John Cobb, Jr.: "Jesus is the Way that is open to other Ways."

In the last part of the book he discusses the role of anger in violent behavior; and he struggles with the call to complete non-violence.

Paul Knitter's book does not call us to become Buddhists. But he shares with us his experience of gaining insight from Buddhist practice that helps him be a better follower of Jesus.

Christians who are drawn to a more mystical type of Christianity will probably enjoy reading Knitter's latest book. Christians who are literalists will not be able to make any sense out of this publication.

 

 

 

 

Mud

Oh, the joy of squishing your toes in the mud! That's Norah's toes in the photo. Pat had taken her to Glory's back yard to play in the little wading pool. Soon Norah was filling a little cup full of water and pouring it on the ground to make mud so she could step in it.

The business of children is to have fun. The trick is to let them have fun in the right way and the right place. Not long ago Norah began showing us how she had learned to 'spit.' Every new skill is an adventure. We congratulated her, but told her not to spit on anyone, and not to spit in the house. Well, she's a two-yr-old, for goodness sakes. You might as well be talking to a wall.

One day when she was being a little rambuctuous I picked her up and said, "How would you like to go outside and spit?" Oh, that excited her. So we went out to the deck and leaned over the railing and spit as hard as we could for about five minutes.

It's too bad adults have lost the ability to enjoy squishing their toes in mud. Getting down and dirty is part of life. It's a shame when we get so obsessed with cleanliness and purity that we miss out on some of the pleasures of life. A certain amount of cleanness is good. But we are made of dirt. To dirt we will return. Maybe that's why we are afraid of dirt: it reminds us of our destiny, our mortality.

In Christian baptism we get splashed or dunked. Washing seems to be a ritual in all religions. Long ago it may have had hygienic purposes. We Christians talk about being cleansed from sin, not by water, but by the blood of Jesus. Now that's a strange idea. Doesn't blood stain? But our religious metaphors say things that can't be said in any other way. By 'blood' we mean the power of life. God's life given to us in love, gives us life. The dirt--the mortality--is not taken away. But the dirt is given meaning. Squishing our toes in the mud may remind us that we are not God. We are humans--made from humus; which invites humility.

church strategy

I took this photo down the street from our apartment. In the background (which you probably can't make out) is the front sign for a United Methodist Church. The signs in the foreground are at the corner of the church property.

I am intrigued by the fact that it appears that the church is saying there is only "one way" only on Sundays. I guess they preach and teach an exclusive gospel on Sunday mornings; then during the week they practice an inclusive ministry. That's being flexible, I guess. I'll have to talk to Phil about this new Methodist strategy.

Faith statement

Well, I met with the Stated Clerk of the presbytery here about transferring my membership from Miami Valley. She was very helpful. My next step is to contact the Committee on Ministry chairperson about my desire to transfer, along with my PIF and a one-page Statement of Faith.

Well. Writing a statement of faith at this point in my faith journey will be interesting. My faith is in transition. Ever since retiring I have been reassessing what I believe and how to communicate that. I guess this requirement to write a statement is a blessing in disguise; it will force me to focus on what is important to me now, and I will see what my faith vocabulary looks like.

Words are a problem when it comes to faith and theology. They crack; they don't hold (holy) water; they point at best. So much of what I 'believe' can't be put into words. These days my faith is more felt that thunk.

Perhaps my statement of faith should be something like: "Wow! Oh! Hmmm. Really? Man alive! Bam! Whew. (Sigh.) Jesus!"