Despite the imagery of bald men calmly processing in saffron robes, the bombastic certainty of a preacher or the confidence of the saints painted with angelic halos, spirituality is a messy business. I can't take a year off to Eat, Pray, Love (although I did devour the book), nor do I have the luxury (Read: cold hard cash, Baby) to write full time or be a stay at home Mom. Like most parents I"m lucky to find 5 minutes to myself with a cup of coffee before my family gets up and the craziness of the day begins. So how can I lay my heavy burdens at God's feet? I talk the walk of the ClusterFucked.Other's have come up with their own ways to bring a bit of the divine into everyday living. Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love encourages her readers to keep a Happiness Jar. With each moment of gratitude experienced or grace witnessed, one writes the moment on a slip of paper, puts it in the empty vessel and watches the jar fill up. Sorry, but not for me. I would get depressed seeing the container empty all the time. Besides, there are some days, some weeks, some months I can't even muster the energy to focus on the possible. Do I see a glass half empty or half full? Jesus, I'm just surprised there's a glass with something in it and I'll probably have to clean it out and put it in the dishwasher.
The dark side of life is something of an occupational hazard for me. As a grief counselor and chaplain working in hospice, I have recited Psalm 23 for the dying and the bereaved hundreds of time and still every line stops me and I hear it anew all over again. Here's just one example:
"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . . ."
The King James translation can't convey the full weight of the words' meaning, although for poetry it is some of the most beautiful in the English language. To get at the passage's guts and to hear it fresh, exploring the Hebrew grammar helps. The voice used for the word walk indicates a strong verb, (as opposed to a passive one) but it also takes on the imperfect tense and for we grammar nerds that means the action takes place in the past, present and future. The walking is ongoing. Here's a better although not as poetic translation:
Even though I walked most of my yesterdays, all of my today, and most of my tomorrows through the darkness . . . .
Or -
I walked through the Valley of the Shadow of death in my past, I'm going to do it again today, and I'm going to keep walking through it during my tomorrows. . . .
The psalmist isn't a pessimist nor does s/he reject the love of God which protects and nurtures, but s/he is a realist. Most of the walking we do in this world is in the shadow of death.
So I came up with my own Walking Hymn discipline years ago to reflect my Eeyore nature and the Psalmist's worldview.
I thank God for the Crap of God.
A few days a week I head out to a local hiking trail for a long ramble. I tie on rattlesnake chaps, lace up my hiking boots, grab my walking stick and don a hat. Fortunately, no photographs have been taken of me in this ridiculous get up. While walking the ruts of righteousness, with the steps of my boots and the striking of my staff, I rhythmically pound the earth and thank God:
Bills are piling up: Praise the Lord; I hate living in Texas: Praise the Lord; I'm as big as the NY Port Authority Building, thanks a whole bunch for that one God: Praise the Lord; The Muslims, the Christians and the Jews are killing each other again: Praise the Lord; (followed quickly by) The Peacemakers are among them: Praise the Lord; My kids are growing older and moving on with their lives without me: Praise the Lord; The diminishment of youth crushes my bones: Praise the Lord; I have Meniere's, FM, CFIDS, Thyroid Disease and RA -- Jesus, Mary and Joseph: Praise the Lord; Children were murdered in the Middle East, in a crowded theatre at midnight, by their nanny,
by fucking cancer --Fuck you God: Praise the Lord.
Sometimes I walk my Walking Hymn with laughter, a beatific smile, dusty cheeks smeared by tears or a balled fist striking the air.
God doesn't cause our suffering but in becoming flesh, suffering is what we signed on for; it makes us human. I acknowledge God's presence in the mess, muck, and catastrophes so I will remember it's not all good. If I pretend there is no darkness or if I manage to skirt around it, then I miss out on walking with the others who are in the valley, too. We are called to traverse these ruts together and while we carry each other's burdens, God carries us.
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil. For Thou art is with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
https://www.facebook.com/aprilDcoldsmith
No comments:
Post a Comment