One of the videos I uploaded during the Lambeth Conference, 2008 was an interview with a man in charge of the construction of an outdoor labyrinth at the University of Kent, overlooking Canterbury, and oriented towards the towers of Canterbury Cathedral.
The crew completed the labyrinth in half the time they had projected, cutting thousands of York stone blocks on site and laying them in the newly-designed labyrinth pattern, the work of Jeff Saward who drew on labyrinths from several indigenous cultures, as well as Western models like the famous labyrinth of Chartres Cathedral.
The reason for the haste in construction was so that the labyrinth would be complete before the Lambeth Conference ended. I had the privilege of taking part in a dedicatory service near the end of the Conference, meaningful to me as I have the honor of serving in the diocese that is the birth of labyrinth movement, home of the Rev. Lauren Artress and the labyrinths of Grace Cathedral.
This past summer Sheila and went back to Canterbury, to hear our friends in the Piedmont Singers from Virginia sing Evensong at the cathedral. After the mid-afternoon Evensong, there was a draught of time before we would join the singers for dinner, so we went to the university in order to walk the labyrinth.
There, on that huge, sprawling, yet beautifully ordered, organic labyrinth we saw an English woman walking a young Rhodesian Ridgeback. He was red-wheaten in color, like our beloved Blaise, who had died only a few months before after an extraordinary life of 14 years. Really, he was the most beautiful Ridgeback I have every seen, next to Blaise.
Blaise was a great being, as the “Tale of Jumping Mouse” describes a bison – great in heart, in spirit, in intelligence, and bodily strength. Diagnosed with cancer on our car trip across the country to move to San Francisco, she lived on for three years, out of love for us, I believe. Like so many people, she hung onto life because she had a mission, supporting her human family.
Nobody in our family but me liked the movie “The Jane Austen Book Club,” but I have my reasons. A central reason was that one of the characters raised Rhodesians, and in explaining about the breed to another character said, “Rhodesians are matriarchal.” Lots fell into place about Blaise and our family then. I had always seen how deeply she loved us, and anyone who spent any time with her also knew what a dominant and dominating personality she had. I finally saw that the two went together; she was mothering us all those years.
The labyrinth is, if you will, the field of our being. In it we meet, recapitulate our life journey. These meetings are not in the mode of ghostly visitations, but in the manner of anamnesis, a representing. Thus, walking the labyrinth may be an occasion of transformation, brought about by prayerfully encountering the past, learning from the past in our present, and emerging into the new life that follows.
Blaise’s great being now inheres in our family as a whole, I think. The quality of unswerving devotion and love, the mothering principle, always there among us, I can now identify, celebrate, and honor.
We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. Ephesians 4:14
The above verse came to mind as I’ve been thinking about the health care debate in this country. When the specter of socialism was invoked regarding the “public option,” its doom seemed certain. Then, almost overnight, the public option was re-branded as “Medicare:e” (Medicare for everyone), and suddenly new life was breathed into the idea.
The Ephesians verse referred to dissent and confusion in the nascent Christian movement, proving that a base in faith is no vaccine against facile currents of shifting opinion. I would like to point out, however, that while it is common to deride the massive legislative work of The Episcopal Church’s General Convention (I have heard the 300+ resolutions referred to as “so what” resolutions in the main), our deliberative process, bringing to bear passionate, expert people from many perspectives on any one issue under debate, and submitting each resolution that makes it that far in the process to the vote of the whole representative democratic body, gives us ground to stand on in areas like health care.
Due to the work of the 2009 General Convention, I am able to say, not only on my own, but on the basis of the above-mentioned legislative process, that our denomination believes there should be quality health care available for all in this country, and that at best there should be a form of what is called the “public option.” Individual Episcopalians may well differ from the substance of the relevant resolution that is the basis for the above statement, but that is understood in a denomination that has embraced a democratic process, and, further, that values the diversity of minds that make up our church.
And finally, it is most important to me that I can say, within the public debate, that our church’s stance on health care rests on our faith, our apprehension of Christ who lifts up the dignity of all people, regardless of the presence or absence of worldly markers of success.
Only a few days after I developed an extensive pulmonary embolism, I slipped out of the house, against both medical and spousal advice, and was picked up by a driver to go to City Hall and speak at a hearing of the Planning Commission in favor of a plan that would allow the rebuilding of St. Luke’s Hospital. In conversation with the driver, a man in his sixties who lives 20 miles south of San Francisco, I learned that all four of his sons had been born at St. Luke’s, and that it was a place he loved and valued.
While St. Luke’s has been a valuable asset to this man and his family, I wonder if he has access to the excellent preventative health care that I have had, that has almost undoubtedly saved my life. The Christ I encounter in the Gospels and in my prayer life would, I believe, say that by being a child of God this man was as entitled as I, a person of privilege, to excellent health care. I’m glad to be part of a church that can and does say so.
MHA
I've been helping to fight the city council's plan to convert 1400+ acres of restorable wetlands in Redwood City. As a fly fisher and supporter of the environment, I am appalled at the level of greed and short-sightedness being demonstrated by my city. We don't need more condos, we don't need more development, and we certainly don't need any of it here, on the banks of the bay. What we need HERE are wetlands, protection from floods, habitat for wildlife and a healthier ecosystem for our damaged watershed.
Even if we didn't need all of those things, which we do, we simply cannot afford the water and electricity needs of such a massive project. Remember the electrical shortages that resulted in brown-outs? Would you welcome water rationing? You might not think about it now that it's fall and the rainy season, but come summer, we will all remember what that pain feels like.
The city is chasing money, pure and simple. Cargill and the developers won't be around later to reap the ecological rewards of such a misguided plan, and even if they are they'll be too busy counting their money to care.
For a while, it seemed the misinformation campaign they were running was winning, they won at the ballot box by confusing the voters. But now people are discovering how truly awful this plan is and they are starting to do something about it.
I am, and you can too:
Spread the word.
Dear karen,
We are glad to report that there is a growing rebellion against Cargill's plan to build a city in San Francisco Bay. We wanted to update you on these developments and ask for your continued support in protecting the 1433 acres of restorable wetlands in Redwood City.
In an important opinion piece in the Palo Alto Weekly, Palo Alto City Council member Yoriko Kishimoto calls out Cargill's plan as a grave threat to the Peninsula's future: "A proposed development in Redwood City so breathtaking in its size and misguided in its scope that nothing of its kind has been seen in half a century." She points out that "this is not an infill site and this is not the place for housing."
And the Redwood City Daily News recently reported that the Menlo Park City Council is moving to declare the project an environmental hazard to the region. Menlo Park Council Members Kelly Fergusson and Andrew Cohen agree that "the current Cargill/DMB development proposal seeks to reverse long-standing regional and local policies to protect the Bay and its wetlands."
Meanwhile, in an opinion piece published in the Redwood City Daily News Redwood City resident Marsha Cohen expressed concern that the city "is stonewalling requests for public records." She points out that the mayor works for business lobbyist SAMCEDA, a strong public supporter of the Cargill development. Ms. Cohen wants to know what advice was given to the mayor about the conflict of interest.
You can join these Peninsula leaders in the battle to save the Redwood City salt ponds. Please write letters to the editor in response to these pieces, expressing your own opinion:
Yoriko Kishimoto, Guest Opinion: Salt ponds may become next huge development-impact battle, Palo Alto Weekly, Oct. 16, 2009 Menlo Park council members take firm stance; 2 lead charge against Cargill, Redwood City Daily News, Oct. 16, 2009 (also in the Mercury News/County Times) Marsha Cohen, Guest Editorial, Redwood City officials too secretive about their ties to Saltworks project, Redwood City Daily News, Oct. 13, 2009Redwood City Daily News letters can be sent to:
letters@dailynewsgroup.com
Palo Alto Weekly letters can be sent to:
letters@paweekly.comCurrently, the Redwood City Council is spending hundreds of thousands of dollars to determine whether Cargill's application should move forward. Clearly, many leaders on the Peninsula have found a much cheaper answer: It should be dead on arrival.
Go to www.savesfbay.org/redwoodcity for more information and to sign our petition, and stay tuned for more interesting updates.
Sincerely,
Stephen Knight
Save The Bay Political Director
510.452.9261
“Though systematic change takes many decades, there are pressing questions for me and I imagine for some others like me if we raise our daily consciousness on the perquisites of being light-skinned. What will we do with such knowledge? As we know from watching men, it is an open question whether we will choose to use unearned advantage to weaken invisible privilege systems and whether we will use any of our arbitrarily awarded power to try to reconstruct power systems on a broader base.”
“Only rarely will a man go beyond acknowledging that women are disadvantaged to acknowledging that men have unearned advantage, or that unearned privilege has not been good for men’s development, or that privilege systems might ever be challenged and changed.”
“Those men who do grant that male privilege takes institutionalized and embedded forms are still likely to deny that male hegemony has opened doors for them personally.”
“They may say they will work to improve women’s status, in the socity or in the university, but they can’t or won’t support the idea of lessening men’s.”
“Through Women’s Studies work I have met very few men who are truly distressed about systemic, unearned male advantage and conferred dominance.”
“I was taught to think that racism could end if white individuals changed their attitudes; many men think sexism can be ended by individual changes in daily behavior toward women. But a man’s sex provides advantage for him whether or not he approves of the way in which dominance has been conferred on his group.”
Peggy McIntosh, White Privilege and Male Privilege
It's not enough to recognize it. One needs to actively do something about it. So unless you are doing this, you are part of the problem and part of the structure.
This video post from General Convention 2009 is late in coming, but is so very worthwhile. If you saw the earlier video interviews I posted with the Episcopal Peace Fellowship youth presence at GC2009, please watch this one, an interview with one of The Episcopal Church’s elders, really a “living treasure” in my opinion.
Pamela Moffatt is a member of an Episcopal parish in Washington, D.C., and also takes part in one of the extraordinary Spiritual Support Groups of the Church of the Savior in D.C. (Diocese of California folks have seen her in the moving video on Spiritual Support Groups we showed at the June 6 workshops on Area Ministry), and she came to the General Convention to give testimony on nuclear weapons to the legislative committee on which I served.
When you think about a church that has Pamela Moffatt and also the great young people on the EPF videos, I think the picture that begins to emerge is of a diverse church of great richness, that doesn’t simply tolerate but explores, appreciates, and celebrates difference.
MHA
If you were going to write a book, what would you write about?
I would write about how viewing religions as divine languages can be helpful for people without developed spiritual frameworks. It would be an attempt to show people that it is okay to speak multiple religious languages while maintaining their unique perspective of not having a native religious language.
This is prosaic blog update, composed on Monday night after a very long, eventful weekend.
First, I want to thank Bishop Steven Charleston for his time with the Diocese of California. My commitment to provide a dedicated, senior staff person to support ethnic and multi-cultural ministries, and to invite into that rich constellation of existing ministries meaningful connection with Oasis and with the Women’s Clericus - all this had a good start in Bishop Steven’s time with us. I also want to say that his prior and ongoing commitment to the work of paramount importance to our world, embodied in the Genesis Covenant, which he helped create, is one that has my full support and my prayers. Please see, for example, the recent Paul Krugman column in the New York Times regarding the already-present environmental crisis to get a sense of how mainstream, thoughtful commentators have come to see the urgency of the position the world is in with regard to environment.
My recovery from prostate surgery has been going very well, until, like a thunderbolt I found myself completely winded after a short four-block walk last Friday afternoon. That night I experienced pain in my lower back, and continued shortness of breath. I wondered if I was coming down with pneumonia from immobility during the recovery, despite the fact that I had gotten myself up and walking from the night following the surgery on.
On Saturday I was running a temperature of about 100, but my breathing, while not normal again, seemed marginally better. I took part in the blessing of Will and Matt’s marriage, a beautiful ceremony in the cathedral, and an honor in which to have a part.
Saturday evening, continued difficulty breathing and slightly elevated temperature. Sheila and I decided to go to the emergency room. During a 15-hour stay in the emergency department at UCSF it was determined that a blood clot had broken away from veins in my lower left calf and made its way into my lungs – I had an extensive pulmonary embolism, with one large clot in the pulmonary artery, and smaller ones branching out through the lungs. I was eventually admitted to the hospital, after being put on blood thinners, and was discharged on Sunday evening.
Here has been the mental challenge for me: taking in the paradox of how serious a pulmonary embolism is (I learned, for instance, that pulmonary embolisms kill more people each year in the United States than does HIV/AIDS and breast cancer combined; 300,000 per year), how large and extended the embolism in my lungs was, and, on the other hand, how well my body had handled the crisis. Throughout twelve hours of monitoring vital sign monitoring my oxygen absorption remained close to 100% and my blood pressure never plummeted (nor soared). The medical staff kept commenting on how strong my body was.
This surprising event means that my recovery has been extended a bit, but I’m still in fact recovering. I’m back under the careful, tremendously competent eye of my primary care physician who mercifully shows me no mercy, and have the best help possible in Sheila.
Sheila, who made me laugh in the hospital when we feared that a group of doctors about to visit the room might clear her and our daughters out and she said, “I’ll just say, ‘I’m a doctor,’….and added in a whisper… ‘of bugs.’” It is actually a mixed blessing to make me laugh after the catheter has been removed, but really laughter is always worth it.
The overriding sense Sheila and I have is that we and this bewilderingly beautiful world, all are in God's hand, and we have experienced the wholeness implied by this image in the hundreds and hundreds of messages of prayer and love that have come to us over these weeks. The fundamental feeling is of gratitude.
+MHA
Why do we use our beliefs to excuse bad behavior instead of as inspiration to do better?
Not all people make this choice. For those that do, I believe it has a lot to do with fear of what is within their own being. Rather than look inward and take responsibility for what they have done, many instead look for an external scapegoat to avoid responsibility for their actions. While there are certain environmental and external factors that contribute to scapegoating, it is ultimately one's own decision in succumbing to bad behavior and then deflecting responsibility externally. The belief system is inconsequential because it is just a guise to cover up responsibility.
During the time leading up to my surgery, and during the recovery here at home, I’ve been reading two books on prayer that have given me great sustenance, both in terms of food for thought, and as guides for my practice of prayer. The books come out of very different religious and cultural traditions, but as has been found over and over again when the subject is esoteric religion, there is a fascinating, and I would say hopeful deposit of deep truth that connects both writings.
One book, Into the Silent Land, by Martin Laird, comes out of the Western Christian contemplative tradition. Laird marshals relevant material spanning 1,700 years of Christian contemplation, uses evocative illustrations to elucidate spiritual principles, and gives clear direction on practice.
An example of his illustrations, which I quoted in a sermon at Grace Cathedral recently, was of his taking a walk across open fields with a friend who has four dogs, all of the same breed. Three of the dogs ranged over the land, stretching themselves, giving themselves to the opportunity of unfettered space. The fourth stayed close to the two men, running in tight circles beside them. Laird asked his friend if he knew why this dog ran so differently than the others. The friend replied that this dog, a rescue dog, had been confined in a cramped pen for an extended period, and the only exercise possible was to run around the perimeter of the slightly-larger enclosure in which the crate was contained, a few times a day. Laird used this illustration to speak of the perceptual confines in which we typically move, though God creates us to a larger, infinite life of divine love.
The other book is The Energy of Prayer, by Thich Nhat Hanh. The first book of this superlative exemplar of Buddhism I ever read was Peace is Every Step. A paperback copy of the book that had been chewed by our dog-friend Maria went with me as I read it slowly while serving as chaplain at Episcopal High School. It was interesting to me that over and over again people in the school community would stop me to ask about the book, simply from seeing the title. Students, faculty, office staff, dining room cooks and servers, and maintenance crew members all wanted to know about the book. I took it to mean that Thich Nhat Hanh was tapping into a deep desire in many of us, the desire to find peace in every day life.
This recent book, The Energy of Prayer, is written by Thich Nhat Hanh as a Buddhist living in France, who speaks across the world, but often in Europe and the United States. Thus, he addresses prayer with a sensitivity to Christian-Buddhist dialogue. As with all of his writing, The Energy of Prayer is written in limpid prose, giving me lots to ponder in a few sentences on any particular sub-topic of prayer the author covers.
One of these areas, to which I’ve been going back day after day, even as I move on with the book, is on what Thich Nhat Hanh calls the hard work of praying comprehensively. By this he seems to mean with an awareness that to move into a desired reality, the subject of a prayer, it may be necessary to see what must die in the current life configuration. This reminds me of a powerful passage in Ronald Rolheiser’s writing, on accommodating the Paschal Mystery to our everyday lives (or our everyday lives to the Paschal Mystery); particularly the need to identify those dreams of ours that have died, but yet have a hold on our daily lives; to acknowledge the true death of those dreams; and then to receive the new life God holds for us.
