Just Rambling

There have been a lot of thoughts rambling about in my head now for a while, and the truth is that I'm not sure where to begin. Every time I come to my computer and try to type them out, my mind goes blank, and I can't bring them back.

While I'm thinking about it, they go something like this:

First: I find it sad that to say you have a degree in theology these days is all too often taken as declaring that your college major was underwater basket weaving, especially by those in the fields of psychology and counseling. It isn't necessarily their fault, as much as it is ours and the theological, biblical, or religious communities in general. In some real sense, our field was the original study of the “psyche” (the word for soul in Greek) and its treatment, and thus ours was the original psychology. But because we have drifted away from the treatment and deliverance of the psyche from our fundamental disorder and all too often concern ourselves with arguments over semantics, and irrelevant and inconsequential teachings, and shied away the practical applications of the Gospel because we have ourselves misunderstood or been ignorant of them; because of all of these things and more we have practically no credibility in that field within which we should know better than anyone.

Second: I recently watched “The Last Airbender” for the third time in the theater today. The acting and dialogue aren't great, but there's just something about it which speaks to me, to the point where I get choked up and nearly cry in a couple of scenes. Judging by the crowd in the theater this late after the movie opened this summer, I'm not the only one to whom it speaks. And I have to ask myself “why?”

“Avatar: The Last Airbender”, as a movie and as the original TV series takes much of it's spirituality from the eastern religions and beliefs, and over the last twenty or thirty years, many western people have turned to these beliefs to fill a spiritual need which they have been unable to meet in the churches. I have written and ranted in my rambles a lot about the catalysts involved in this exodus so I won't go through a full rant here about them. But it is sad.

I myself found a great deal of peace in Buddhist and Taoist writings, and a great deal of agreement and complementary teachings. I was disturbed about my reaction until I began to read such writings as “The Imitation of Christ,” “The Cloud of Unknowing,” and those by St. Peter of Damascus, and others from the Spiritual and Mystical traditions of the Church; and in these writings I found our brothers from the centuries before us saying much the same thing about practice, focus, detachment, and self-abandonment as the Buddhist and Taoist writings do while adamantly focused on Jesus Christ.

I have to wonder if, in some way, the world of “The Last Airbender” doesn't reflect the state of spirituality today, if not the Church directly. We, like the four nations, are fighting amongst ourselves. I can't even speak to old friends at times without them looking for an opportunity to try and “convert” me, or feel like I have to defend my Christianity as though it were somehow inferior to theirs. And in the end, I think most of us are trying desperately to practice our faith in Jesus Christ, knowing the Father through Him, but often don't really know where to turn. In some sense, like those in the movie, I think many of us are hoping that there is an “Avatar” out there who can teach us and lead us back to the way we somehow just know things are supposed to be.

I think this is why so many people leave the churches for something else, or else just think the Church is fraudulent at best.

Third: I have to be careful with this. I think, in some small way, I'm getting the hang of this. I'm not saying I've arrived, or that I'm perfect, or anything like that. If I were to feel or think that way, it would be a sure sign that I hadn't got a clue and was plunging headlong down a really, really dark path. But I think I'm finally at the point where it no longer feels like I'm spinning my wheels spiritually.

I'm finding that, at least for me, withdrawing from myself, and denying myself has less to do with isolation and more to do with being with people. I tried for months, as I wrote about before, to spend time in meditation, sometimes hours at a time. Meditation, prayer, private Eucharist. Sometimes it was well, sometimes it produced little it seemed. And then, a couple of months ago I was convicted about it. I had gone to do my prayers and Communion on my own again, and then realized that it had been a few weeks since my wife, not to mention my kids, had taken Holy Communion. I then included my wife. The truth is that it was a bit uncomfortable for me at first. In some ways it still is, because I have always been uncomfortable with other people being involved with my prayer life.

But that's just the point. I was trying to stay in a place where I was comfortable. I wasn't denying or abandoning self when I retreated to do my prayers, I was running headlong to it. And in so doing, I was preventing my family from receiving the Eucharist, and denying them Jesus rather than providing Him to them. I wasn't fulfilling my calling as a priest, I was abandoning it without truly understanding what I was doing, and so instead of drawing closer to Christ through self-abandonment, I was pushing Him away and keeping those dearest to me from receiving Him.

We began doing morning and evening prayers as a family using the Anglican Book of Common Prayer, and doing Mass at home with both my wife and kids; and I have struggled with it. But, that's the point. I do struggle with it because it's not comfortable to have anyone else be a part of my prayer life. Just like it's not comfortable to do the dishes, or feed the animals, or water the garden when my wife is unable to do so. It's not comfortable to sit and listen to someone rant about their problems when all you want to do is get away and watch a movie, or read, or play a game.

I think I'm finally beginning to get the hang of this because I am now recognizing that it isn't me who is doing any of these things when they happen, but the Grace of God within me. I recognized it before, but now I think I've got a grasp on it, if that makes any sense. It's penetrating through my thick skull that I can't just plow through a day and assume that I'm going to be kind, or gentle, or gracious. I can't assume that I'm going to keep my temper if things don't go my way. I'm accepting now that whatever temptations I encounter are because I want to do those things and therefore I am the one who is dysfunctional, not the circumstances surrounding me, and because I am the one who is dysfunctional I must, I repeat must, confess this dysfunction daily, hourly, minutely, and ask for His grace to flow through me, for Him to overflow within me with His presence, and power, a love, and compassion, and wisdom, and humility because I am poor, blind, weak, naked, and ignorant. I have a serious disorder, and ignoring that fact isn't going to make it go away. It's only when you admit that you have one, and apply yourself to the treatment plan that you are able to learn to function in spite of it. If you at any point deny that it exists, you are only lying to yourself and will make it worse, not better.

At any rate, I think I've finally said my peace, so I'll quit rambling for now.