Tag: Spirituality

ARISING OUT OF SILENCE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

Another form of study we have found helpful is Worship Sharing, in which a topic is announced, a facilitator shares a brief (up to twenty minute) introduction, and then each person can respond out of the silence, speaking only once until all have shared and observing the other “rules” of vocal ministry: no direct rebuttals, space between messages, and so on. Thus, your original proposal could be turned into a series, “How To Meet God,” beginning with a session on experiences each person has had in encountering the Divine. A second session could examine varieties of prayer, in which individuals might begin to see the silence and social service as prayer, in addition to supplication, thanksgiving, praise, confession, and so on. Yet another session might examine ways of centering down for a better “sit” in Meeting (prayer returns here!). Each of the queries makes a good Worship Sharing focus, as does a carefully selected piece of scripture. Larry and Joanna Sparks, by the way, have prepared an excellent approach for group study of scripture, that requires the readers to sweep away their baggage and then to examine the text closely to see what it actually does say; a circle at Agamenticus spent six weeks on Jonah and felt they needed more time! Oh, yes, confession of our individual spiritual baggage and our initial religious training can also be useful Worship Sharing. Testimony about one’s spiritual journey to date has formed the basis for some Agamenticus Friends for monthly breakfasts at one family’s farm.

~*~

For more Seasons of the Spirit, click here.

OF SOJOURNING AND EXILE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Kokopelli is not quite of this place, but he will stand in for the local hunchbacked flute players. As will Krishna, in tunes that begin slowly and build to ecstatic climax. Maybe they will be joined by a wandering sailor, looking for water. Maybe by fiddlers like me. Our melodies haunt and echo. This music demands dancing. The drummers appear.

You might ask what the Native American flute is made of. As well as Krishna’s pipe. What kind of bone or horn the sailor has carved. What opens as a simple, plaintive cry gains complexity and liveliness. Spider, in fact, weaves their intricate counterpoint.

The sailor knows sees their progression running from reel to jig to, ultimately, hornpipe. Who knows what the Hopi or Hindu call it — the effect is the same. Just look at a cow skulls and see where the horns were. Look at elk antlers. Look in his Bible, where horns are an image of power. Some who venture out into solitude return with their own power song. Begin wailing. Begin reeling.

I reflect. Suppose my children are born here? Is this really an arrival or a failed promise? What about the long exile ahead? The decades of trying to understand precisely what I’ve encountered in this desert and at its rim. Perhaps I will face a desert in my profession, as well. Perhaps I’ll find the sea is another kind of desert — one giving rise to the fishermen who were Christ’s first apostles. I already know of salmon returning to the desert.

I had believed this would be his Canaan — my place of milk and honey. I could spend the rest of this life pondering exactly what I experienced. Attempting, as well, to recover something of the encounter. The tune ends, but I remember its sound and its place on my maps. No matter that I might have even found this Canaan in a large city of orchestras and quartets, stages and screens, galleries and architecture, lectures and bookstores.

Maybe I’m merely sojourning here all along. In exile here as much as anywhere. And maybe it wasn’t the desert as much as the promise itself I explore.

At the end, a door closes. Maybe a gate. Like Eden, with its reality that I’ll never return. This desert is not a land that many visit. It reveals its true nature slowly, if you’re patient. If you’re reverent.

Actually, this might be just one more gate locked behind me. Even if I could return, I’d find everyone scattered. Or at least older. Here I haven’t even collected an antique basket or beaded moccasins or a piece of turquoise and silver jewelry to carry with me. Wherever I’m going.

Those were the days when I could read a totem pole and anticipate the stories. Maybe even name the children and their grandparents.

I should have known traveling with Kokopelli comes with risk. There’d be a price, eventually. Maybe it was while I was at the office or those other times when I turned, and he wasn’t there with me.

Now I come home and both Kokopelli and my wife are missing. I should have been suspicious all along.

It’s time for me to leave, then. I’m free.

For more insights from the American Far West and Kokopelli, click here.

RECONSIDERING THE NATURE OF TRUTH

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 3 Comments

Contrary to the opinion of many contemporary Quakers, theology among Friends did not cease developing after the death of George Fox. While I have argued that early Friends had their reasons for not fully articulating their radical vision publicly, they left us enough dots to connect to rediscover their revolutionary line of thinking. As I’ve written, this is built on three central metaphors: Light, the Seed, and the Truth.

Of the three, I’ve found Truth to be the most difficult to grasp. Metaphor typically builds around an image, but just what works for Truth, no matter how many layers of meaning and experience we compress into it? Moreover, metaphor rarely settles into something as comfortable as a noun. In other words, just how do we turn Truth into a verb?

I was delighted to see Douglas Gwyn pick up on in his book Seekers Found: Atonement in Early Quaker Experienence, with his own elegant turns. He begins with a concept of  spiritual formation: “The Quaker truth-stance was constituted by four distinct aspects, or ‘moments,’ … that can be related to four standard philosophical accounts of truth.” He addresses this from the psychology perspective of individual experience as a reality. Among them:

Powerful catharsis of being “convinced of the truth”

Gwyn begins with the sensation early Friends reported in their encounter with the Quaker apocalypse:

At that moment, the light of Christ gave them a searing, unmistakable knowledge of themselves. They were confronted as never before with their alienated conditions (including overt sins) and by the power of God to redeem them.

Yes, they were shaped by earlier teachings and beliefs:

The first moment of truth, therefore, was one of correspondence between propositional belief and lived experience. … The insistence on a lived experience of Christian beliefs … was an important breakthrough at the culminating – and self-defeating – moment of the English Reformation.

Coherence

Making sense of the experience presents its own challenges.

The truth of any proposition is established by its consistency or harmony with a larger body of previously established truths. Coherence, then, implies a framework within which one interprets either ideas or the data of experience (spiritual or empirical). But simultaneously, new experiences, while corresponding to elements within that existing framework, may also alter the framework (“shift the paradigm”), sometimes drastically.

Verification

Gwyn notes that Quakers could be more orthodox, especially in their insistence on moral accountability or the behavioral codes, which

not only expected outcomes of the convincement process but also the necessary means of conformity with Christ. This strong “process” aspect of Quaker truth has affinity with operationalist philosophical theories, which posit that a hypothesis must be verified by appropriate procedures of investigation. Here, the emphasis is upon the active means of testing the proposed idea or action, in contrast with the static framework of established truths suggested by coherence theory.

Pragmatism

But truth’s fourth moment is still rightly called pragmatic. … Like operationalism, pragmatism is concerned with action, but judges truth by end results, rather than means.

~*~

Gwyn delves deeply into the workings of these, and more, but as he observes,

these comprise the framework within which early Friends found, served, and remained faithful to the truth. The truth itself remains a divine reality, defined by God’s loving faithfulness to humanity and all creation.

Here, then, is Gwyn’s breakthrough key in approaching this Truth – it’s active, as love, allowing him to present us at last with a requisite image: Jesus himself!

While not all metaphors have to be visual – the ringing of a bell, for instance, might be a richer connection than the bell itself – I’d simply overlooked the idea of using a person itself. But why not? The English can speak of the Crown, after all, and in our times, a picture of the Queen comes to mind. Americans have long spoken of George Washington as the Father of Our Country and Gilbert Stuart’s portrait springs forth, along with statuary in parks and other public places across the land. We even have a major city and a vast state named in Washington’s honor, which simply magnify him as a metaphor.

To continue, Gwyn turns to the gospel and letters of John, who

portrays Jesus in conversation with a variety of individuals who take different positions in relation to him. A Christian dialectic emerges from these conversations. … John’s dialectical universalism contrasts with the syncretistic universalism of Hellenic culture, where various deities mixed and matched for the masses, while philosophy served the more refined pastime of the privileged. … The Gospel of John called various peoples into service to the one true God. … Again, this God who sent Jesus is less “true” in the sense of opposition to false gods, than in the Hebrew sense of faithfulness. … One did not choose Jesus from a long list of seeking options. Rather, “I choose you” (John 15:16). That call of truth was enormously energizing …

Gwyn’s insight certainly opens John 3:16 in a fresh light: “I am the way, the truth, and the light.” Look at the compression of metaphor!

~*~

More of my own reflections on alternative Christianity are found at Religion Turned Upside Down.

MINDING THE DOOR

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I’m grateful for each person who is led to enter the meeting room and pray that more will follow. The paradox of inclusivity is in assuring that it encourages each of us to fulfill and express our potential, rather than settling safely at the lowest common denominator of experience. If we cannot meet that potential, then we guarantee that spiritual depth will be found only in exclusionary bodies, which is not the way I want to respond to the Great Commission!

Cross-fertilization can be helpful, especially when it involves profundity reaching across to profundity, or from depth to like depth. You know how my sojourn among Mennonites in Rehoboth sustained me when I was confronted by similar difficulties with Quakers in that city. Let me note here, too, that the pastor at Durham Friends is a Italian-American Mennonite whose degree is from Andover-Newton – a wonderful and tender hand among us. I see that in your own Quarterly Meeting there are pastors at China, North Fairfield, and Winthrop who would, no doubt, enjoy meeting you. Now what was your question about hymns? The importance, I believe, is in substance rather than form (and, yes, “Magic Penny” could do with more substance, musically and theologically).

You were rightly appointed to be clerk of Ministry and Counsel. It’s a valid endorsement of your gifted abilities, and an invitation to grow in them. The fact that you are aware of spiritual baggage as well as the snares of ego and personal agenda is healthy. Within your baggage, too, is much that will find rightful application, more of that cross-fertilization that can help. The rest can go on the compost heap, which has its own spiritual metaphors. Either way, never fear being a “fool for Christ,” as Paul so aptly put it.

Your challenge likely involves a roomful of religious refugees yearning for the warm fellowship of church while fearing – often because of their own negative experiences with Bible-thumpers, proselytizers, smarmy priests, pedophiles, or whatever – the very goods that are essential. (In psychological terms, this involves looking directly into the Jungian shadow, at the places we were wounded; in Bible structure, it’s the reason we see the Tree of Knowledge early on but don’t see the other tree growing next to it until late in Revelation: the Tree of Life, with healing in its leaves – or, closer to home, the cure for nettles growing next to the nettle plant.) To use an old Brethren expression, “Bible words for Bible things,” meaning that sooner or later you have to face up to sin, repentance, atonement, Father, LORD, Holy Spirit, grace, rest, faith, prayer, and all the rest, often learning to retranslate as you go.

One thing about this group is that no one in it has much tolerance for being preached at – they’re just too independently intellectual for that, even if some of them earn their livelihood by lecturing! Lay out information for examination, and it’s a different matter.

~*~

For more Seasons of the Spirit, click here.

ROUND AND ROUND ANEW

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I awaken with indigo skin. Sparrows hop about on my mattress. I vaguely recall a plunging star followed by blindness. In that sleep, a voice spoke in primary colors and related a saga oozing blood between brown feathers. I followed her in a procession toward the origin. She pointed out a killer whale, a shaman’s folded robes, a raven’s halo, a falcon spitting fog, a cluster of warthogs, a gathering of peacocks and white llamas, the roots of a great-grandfather’s moustache. As we ascended from a swampy trail of frogs, birds, cobwebs, sunning turtles, and lizards, we skirted the foot of a smoldering volcano. Off in the other direction in emerald water, an island burned. She, however, had other plans. Wild goats ran from our approach. Soon we braved auto glare, road owls, iron bridges. Spinning me back to my Midwestern sources, she demonstrated how thin the thread of perception remains. Spider-thin, in fact. She showed me I’m one animal at one time and in one location, but when those factors change, I become another. Only the soul is constant. When she held a mirror before me, there was no reflection. When I asked her name, she smiled coyly. “You’ll find it written in the desert.”

Each time you acknowledge the distractions that keep you from dancing freely, turn back toward the melody and the rhythm. Turning, I knew, was repenting. Turning and returning, in the music I danced and played. My partner there has always been faithful.

For more insights from the American Far West and Kokopelli, click here.

TO SPEAK FROM INWARD ENCOUNTER

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

One of the phrases early Quakers used to identify the movement, before settling formally on the Society of Friends or its more recent expansion as the Religious Society of Friends, has long baffled me.

Their use of First Publishers of Truth, drawing on an older meaning of publish as proclaiming or announcing rather than our familiar sense today of printing, simply left me puzzled. It even struck me as arrogant. After all, the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4:4-28) could be considered the first, as well as the disciples and others who witnessed the miracles and heard the teachings.

More recently, though, I encountered two messages in worship regarding the disciple known as “doubting” Thomas and these had me rethinking the importance of first-hand experience in religious matters. (The first message, rising in the silence of traditional Quaker worship, was followed a week later in the homily of the Greek Orthodox liturgy. Coincidence, I figured I needed to take a second look at the passage.)

What I now see is the fact that Thomas was not content to take the Resurrection on hearsay accounts. People can, after all, be deluded, even self-deluded. His brash retort could then well be something I might utter, or more likely want to voice, in a similar setting. Why shouldn’t this circle be hysterical?

What happens, though, is a first-hand experience of the risen Jesus, who then remarks that not everyone will have a face-to-face encounter like this but still believe.

Based on what? My take now is that it would be grounded in their own first-hand experience, in whatever form, rather than tales based on others.

Those early Quakers could point people to submission to the Light or the opening of the Seed or a confrontation with Truth, all in the face of intense persecution. Powerfully, they were speaking from their own experiences, when their lives were transformed.

~*~

For more regarding faithful practice, see my Religion Turned Upside Down observations.

DEMANDING LIGHT

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

September 11 weighs heavily
we ask if the reasons for war have changed in our era
we look at ongoing “civil wars” and the many faces of oppression
government actions give only lip service
against violent actions while committing expensive resources
to military actions
widespread conflicts continue over wealth, resources, and identities
often cast as religion
here is one case where I’ll argue Marx
see the disparity
between rich and the poor
will always generate strife

*   *   *

Islam struggles
between fundamentalists and moderates
over its future
more than the book
or ethnic identity

*   *   *

O Holy One, we dare not neglect the imperative
of waging peace, deploying appropriate resources
“for our struggle is not against the enemies of blood and flesh,
but against … the cosmic powers of this present darkness,
against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places”
in this larger struggle, where we demand Light

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set, click here.

THE DRIVING FORCE IN THE MESSAGE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

For much of its existence, the Society of Friends has embodied a peaceful, respectable, even restrained way of life. Not so the earliest decades, when the economy, political structure, religion, communities, and families throughout Britain were all in chaotic upheaval. As Quakers emerged in the tumult, they coalesced many of the more radical elements as movement after movement broke up under the pressures and changing conditions.

As many observers have noted, the early Quaker message was that this was a time of apocalypse – the ultimate victory of good over evil was at hand, making way for the Second Coming of Christ. In battles of such magnitude, which Douglas Gwyn repeatedly views as a Quaker pentecost of the 1650s, there was no place for reserve – boldness came to the fore. And then, when the openings of revolution closed up again, resulting in the Restoration of the monarchy, Friends were forced to bank their fires.

Continue reading “THE DRIVING FORCE IN THE MESSAGE” →

LEAVING THE POINTS OF REFERENCE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

To step into desert far enough you no longer see cars or houses brings a break with convention. Returning from one exploration with Kokopelli, I view the town as a mound of pea pods. Next, it becomes peanuts (which aren’t raised in these parts). Eventually, as packages of Grape-Nut Flakes — each building containing bodies, nothing more. Entire cities appear as collections of books identical to a room of cardboard boxes. Every abode duplicates a television set. I know this isn’t how people should be living. This isn’t freedom. This isn’t personality. We have our work cut out, don’t we? If Kokopelli hadn’t come this way earlier, I might have feared for my sanity. Instead, I know the brain’s a weird instrument and let it go at that.

Imagine undertaking a trip where there are no road signs, no maps, no pages of text. You have no way of knowing how far to the next town, gas station, restaurant, motel, or campground. Ask people and hope they know. With utter sincerity, half of them give bogus information. The other half lie. Without a guide, all the books you’ve read can’t possibly help find the marker, YOU ARE HERE. Your teacher embodies map, compass, path, and highway. If you have the genuine article, it’s better than an Interstate speedway. If it’s false, watch out. I wished my own were closer. I was running on memories. As my Teacher said, “When you think I-I-I, you’re a smoky fire blowing every which way. No I, no me, no my attachment means there’s no smoke, just a good hot flame burning clearly.” For me, this meant breaking out of my own shell. Would I have wings or claws? I hadn’t considered the spider.

At least I have Kokopelli, on occasion. Most of the time.

In this desert, I seek to unearth the hidden meanings of place. I return to a chart of Aboriginal names and translations, and substituted these for the Geological Survey’s designations. The mountain once known as Komo Kulshan is STEEP. That’s how it is when GOING FOR CLIMAX in the spiritual quest. You must keep asking, “What can I do WHERE I AM?” The answer? “Take another step dancing with your beloved.”

For more insights from the American Far West and Kokopelli, click here.

DRESSING THE PART

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I wish I could articulate these feelings more clearly, but this seems to be the best I can do at the moment – maybe the counseling will bring new clarity as I delve deeper into my own emotions and dark side. Owning up to a lot of buried resentment (anger) has been a very difficult task, as is seeing how it has weaseled through so much of my outlook and actions.

As for thy question about dress, thee knows that plainness and simplicity are different. Thy daughter convinced me that plainness has meaning when it’s an expression of community – the concept of a city set upon a hill implies a people, and this isolated Quaker isn’t even part of a family in that way. Plainness would make me less likely to find the other half of that family base, too, from what I see. So in finally breaking down and ordering myself some new clothes (really the first time for that since before my marriage; my now-ex-wife bought me clothes after that, and in Rehoboth what I obtained was work-related), it turns out that with the exception of my bright yellow windbreaker, all of my mod clothes would fit very nicely into an Amish quilt. So much for my breakout! By the way, my corduroy broadfalls from Gohn Bros. are the most comfortable slacks I’ve ever had, even without the zipper. No, I have no desire at this time to appear “separate from the world”; at this point that would create a needless barrier to people who have enough trouble trying to comprehend the message of the Gospel. What I am finding, though, is that I feel separate from the world – walking into a mall or Kmart can be like landing on Mars. The biggest difficulty in all of this is the loneliness that ensues from that lack of family and community, of that sense of relatedness and common purpose. (Another one of the therapy’s major fronts. Please stay tuned for further developments.)

~*~

For more Seasons of the Spirit, click here.