FULL TO THE BRIM

THIS WORLD is full of angels. Messengers of God. And because they’re in this world, because they’re here, in the flesh, with you and me, they sometimes wonder, with us, “how can I live?” Sometimes, of course, they answer their own question, or have it answered for them, inwardly, by God. All angels, nevertheless, need and deserve encouragement and assurance from the people amongst whom they live, and move, and have their being.

Angels are very aware of this need, of this being dependent upon something, upon someone, beyond their immediate selves. That’s how they become angels. Knowing their own need, and sometimes barely able to see through the pain of that need (and – by the Grace of God – the gift of healing tears) they are able to recognise and respond to the (often silent) human cries in others. And I know an angel called Mary, who is an inspiration, and who finds “life and hope in all the shades of green of the trees …” (I hope you like red tulips too, Mary).

As I stand at the bus stop in the early morning, tears streaming down my face, and wondering how I can live, I call myself back to the present moment.  “What in this moment can I feel and enjoy and be glad for?” God is encountered in the present moment, in all the sights, and smells and sounds, in each person we encounter and with whom we interact.  I find life and hope in all the shades of green of the trees and in the white blossom unfurling amidst the leaves.  I am alone in the world at this time.  Me and the possibilities of the day ahead.

At work of course, life finds me.  Here, in all my interactions with people, I find myself and all of us to be a part of something much greater than we are on our own.  In the very solid, real world of bodies and poo and blood and sick, and tears and fears and confusion, of laughter and love and violence, of connection, I find my greatest sense of the mysterious.  Work gives me life.  Giving my empty self to everybody, I end each day full up to the brim.  A day which has begun with wondering how I can live..,

via Depression and God and Other People and Me – And Three Cheers for Us All :) | All Now Mysterious.

I called at the Hospice again this afternoon. Again and again my life is touched and blessed by the ministries of angels from God. Alleluia!

FLAK FROM ALL SIDES

MAGGI DAWN’S QUESTIONS unerringly get to the  heart of the matter faster than most people’s answers:

The Archbishop is worried.

A new bishop has been elected (though not yet confirmed) in Los Angeles, and she’s “married” to another woman. This will undoubtedly cause another round of bitter rows in the Anglican communion, and there is no solution to the endless disagreement. Andrew Brown says that “Rowan Williams has been forced into an impossible corner by his own diplomacy”; while Ekklesia suggests that the Archbishop making comments that the election of Mary Glasspool is problematic, while refusing to condemn the extreme measures of the Ugandan Anti-Homosexuality Bill, makes it seem that he is taking sides.

I think he can’t win whatever he says, and in a problem without a solution he has become the symbolic person that takes the flak from all sides. I don’t know what the answer is either. Do you? (my emphasis)

via lesbian bishop – Maggi Dawn.

No, Maggi. I’m sure I don’t know the answer. But as every day goes by I’m thinking that the quicker we move away from religious propositions that front “a symbolic person taking the flak” the better. And René Girard, for example, stands in company with many faithful Christians whose faith does not require that GOD intended for “His only Son” to be scapegoat for the “sin” represented by all that appears wrong, or at least unsolvable, in this world. Those of homosexual orientation are no more to blame for all the ills of Africa than Archbishop Rowan can be blamed for the ills of the Anglican Communion. Outdated theologies of scapegoating – symbolic persons taking the flak from all sides – are at the heart of the matter.

In future, all violence will reveal what Christ’s Passion revealed, the foolish genesis of bloodstained idols and the false gods of religion, politics, and ideologies. The murderers remain convinced of the worthiness of their sacrifices. They, too, know not what they do and we must forgive them. The time has come for us to forgive one another. If we wait any longer there will not be time enough. – The Scapegoat, René Girard, John Hopkins University Press, 1986, p 212

May angels of God be on hand to comfort and sustain Archbishop Rowan. And may “the thoughts and meditations of all our hearts and minds” together with our prayer, moderation and non-violence, physical or verbal, establish peace.