Note: Amy and Peter met para-gliding, and it remains one of their go to recreational options that they enjoy together.  Also, if you want to see a video of the affair based on the songs that I wrote for the processional and the recessional, go to https://youtu.be/Ot2E-AkOyhs


Well, Amy and Peter: it appears that you’re ready to launch this thing.  I think that’s true: you seem to have done some pretty good pre-flight, things seem to be in order..
    But here’s the thing: once you turn and launch and your love is in the air, you’re committed.  None of this “I think I’ve changed my mind, I’m going to bail out of this harness” stuff.  Not without severe injury.  That’s because, in part, that there’s a sense in which the two pilots who stood on launch have become one. So the only question left to answer is, “how do we make this the best flight possible?”  
    With regard to that, let me just say that in the many years I’ve been doing so I have observed relationships falling along a continuum between 3 basic types.  The first is when both partners are primarily asking the question, “What’s in this for me? What does my partner have to offer me in this?”  Those kinds of relationships, if they’re lucky, will just be a quick sled ride to the bottom.  Otherwise they will suffer multiple collapses and eventually, inevitably, a hard landing with the only question left being how wounded will the pilots be walking away.  Because that one pilot will have been split back into two, and nobody survives being cut in half without scars. 
    Moving along the continuum, however, you can come to a relationship where at least one of the partners is primarily asking a different question, that is “what do I have to give here?,” but with the other partner mostly responding, “yeah whatchyoo got for me?  I’ll take that.”  Those are relationships that have at least a chance to maintain some altitude, but they are asymmetrical and subject to multiple partial collapses that will prevent them from ever attaining the heights that they’re capable of. 
    But if you continue along you begin to approach a type of relationship where each partner is primarily asking what it is that they have to give.  In the wisdom tradition we come from it is spoken of like this: 
    Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider the other better than yourself; not looking to your own interests, but each of you to the interests of the others. 
    Just imagine that.  Not looking to your own interests, but each of you to the interest of the other.  That’s when you get this amazing dance of people attempting to out-serve and out-give each other and there are literally no limits to how high you can go.  Bring your oxygen.  Always keeping in mind that it is about what you have to give, not just how you feel.  There are plenty of emotions in these situations, as there should be, but those are not what will take you the distance.  It is love manifested in concrete acts of selfless service that will do the trick.  
    But that is only half of this wing called marriage.  The other half is just as important and is simply this:  mercy.  Grace.  Forgiveness, because newsflash, Amy: in spite of the epic quality of the DNA he has inherited, Peter is a flawed human.  Likewise Peter, in spite of her beauty and charm, her joyful demeanor and intelligence and immense ability to love…dogs.  And some humans, Amy is also not perfect.  And let’s face it: perfection is boring.  Plus, it doesn’t get us anywhere.  Because nothing grows unless it’s stressed and in every crisis is an opportunity. 
    It is these two halves of the wing: mutual, selfless, sacrificial service as well as the mercy and grace necessary when one falls short, that is rightly spoken of as unconditional love: rumored by some to be not just a characteristic of, but the very nature of the divine, as well as what we are called to reflect in this world.  So pursuing your relationship in these kinds of ways becomes one of the ways in which you pursue your very purpose in life.  This is a big deal you're getting yourselves into. 
    So here is my charge to each of you as individuals and the two of you as a couple:  every day of your relationship, so long each of you endures, make every effort to take advantage of what I guarantee will be the multiple opportunities for selfless sacrificial acts of service and unyielding grace.  If you do this the wing of your marriage will stay inflated and stable, able to handle the turbulent air that will come as well as to take full advantage of the nice lifty thermals that will take you to the heights you’re capable of.  There will be adventurous days and bumpy days and days when you will be soaring along on that smooth buttery air, as the reverend Jesse would say.  And ultimately you will come to a nice soft landing.  Amy will remember to flair, and I along with all those here, those who wish they could be, and those yet to come who will be on your side, will celebrate with you here and now and we will celebrate with our then and there.  Because there’s a party over there. 

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Sunday I managed a long overdue wander through the woods, eventually finding myself in Todd Creek Redwood grove above Saratoga.  These sorts of meanderings seem to be particularly helpful in processing whatever it is that is currently stewing in my brainpan.  Simmering near the top of the stew lately, especially given that my wife and I both lost our fathers recently, is this whole “what happens when we die?” question.  Lately I have run into various posts/podcasts on the question of whether our consciousness endures, as well as the latest from the world of quantum weirdness: to wit, it appears that rather than asking how consciousness derived from matter, what we should be asking is how matter derived from consciousness, the true building block of the universe.  That makes my brain melt, I’ll admit, but on the other hand seems consistent with a creation narrative as I have understood that, as well as aligned with my current thinking on the nature of the divine.  Rather than the bearded dude separate from creation “out there” somewhere, I am much more inclined toward  considering God as “I Am,” pure existence, and as being “over all and through all and in all:” the reality we all live in the midst of and are a part of,  “In whom we live and move and have our being,” if you will.  It would certainly be theologically and scientifically consistent, in my mind, to call that consciousness God. 

So there I am, finally at the grove after too long of a hike (took a bit of a rabbit trail for a bit, quite literally, before it petered out) and I found myself thinking about the dads and asking, “Are you there?  Are you now a part of that consciousness that undergirds reality?  Are we here together?” Then came one of those memorable mystical moments that sometimes occur on occasions like that, and the answers in the affirmative were as clear as if they had been spoken.  

I have always had the notion that our consciousness endures, something the tradition I come from certainly affirms.  But that has always assumed a distinct disconnect between realities, “going to heaven,” wherever that is, but it certainly isn’t here.  In this case what was particularly meaningful to me about the experience was the sense of presence that felt more like an overlap than a disconnect.  Considering the way in which their present spiritual reality and my physical reality were connecting in that grove reminded me of another time years ago as I sat by a stream in a different part of the forest (same mountains).  I was pursuing a contemplative moment when my prayers became words which became sounds which became melded with the sound of the stream and turned into music: an interplay of melody, rhythm, harmony and yes, meaning, that was so incalculably complex even Beethoven or Frank Zappa wouldn’t have been able to understand it’s structure.  But they would have been entranced as I by the immeasurable beauty of it all.  And I was a part of it, integrally integrated into the substance of creation.  It was a completely overwhelming experience made more so by the sure knowledge that I had the barest hint of what that existence is really like.  Last Sunday at Todd Creek Redwoods, I felt the presence of those who had so recently passed and thought about the chance they were experiencing in its fullness that which I had only glimpsed, and I was glad for them.  

Then I wondered, we seem so near and so intertwined in spite of our current realities, could they manifest in this world if they chose?  I have no idea, actually, but if they are experiencing the complete reality that I had only a glimpse of, why should they?  They don’t need to come back for dolphin rides: they experience everything because they are a part of it.*  However, I considered one who did choose to incarnate at one point, someone who did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself human, and offered us an example and teachings as to how to manifest the God consciousness in this world.  He died, as do we all, but apparently didn’t stay that way.  And that is spoken of in the sacred texts of my tradition as something that reconciled not just every human, but the entire cosmos, whether “things on earth or things in heaven” to God.  Somehow all that exists in the physical and spiritual realms were brought into alignment with a plan and a purpose.  The hows and the whys and the (quantum) mechanics of that are beyond me.  But in speaking about his conviction that this “resurrection” is destined to be a universal phenomenon for everyone, Paul elaborates what the end game is pretty well, I think.  In his central discourse on the subject in 1 Cor. 15, he speaks of a process of defeating those things that are not in alignment with the prime objective until finally God is “all in all.”  To me that is a picture of finally getting to the point where there are no boundaries between the physical and the spiritual, and the little overlaps like I experienced become the totality.  Death itself is spoken of as the final enemy to be destroyed, so there is no more going from “here” to “there,” because here and there become one thing.  This is the mystery of God’s will to be completed when everything is fulfilled spoken of by the author of Ephesians: “to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth.”  

My thinking on stuff like this continues to evolve, but at this point here’s what I can say regarding where I’m at on this whole “what happens after you die?” thing: 

1. Something. Consciousness endures.
   
2. It’s all good.  There’s nothing to be afraid of here.  Also, like all the rest of us humanoids, not everything about either dad I reconnected with in the grove was what I would consider to be completely aligned with the God who is love.  But the sense I got was that anything that wasn’t had been shed at that point.**
   
3. I’m not convinced that death is the end of our contribution.  I like to think that we become a more integral part of the continuing process of creation evolving.
   
4. I’m also not convinced death is the end of our own evolution.  I’ll concede the possibility that as we integrate into the larger reality, our individual selves continue to evolve in some way.
   
5. Finally, the big deal: The answer to this question is not the big deal.  I grew up believing that was the most important question, maybe the only one that mattered.  I now think it really doesn’t matter in any practical sense regarding how we live our lives.  Paul ends his grand dissertation on resurrection with the actual big deal: “always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”
   

For me, that means that everything I do in this life which is aligned with the objective of the God who is love- every act of compassion, service, caring for the marginalized, all the kinds of stuff Jesus showed and taught about how to manifest God consciousness: all of it is a piece of the process of getting to the goal, and I believe a piece of the process of getting me to become a more useful part of the program now and even after my Zoom memorial (God help us all). 

All of creation is saturated with meaning and purpose and hopefulness as it continues to evolve toward a positive goal the nature of which none of us can possibly imagine, but every day we are a part of the process, now until time itself no longer exists.  

I’m all good with that. 

*in discussing this with a friend, he mentioned to me that the story of the transfiguration might be an example of a possible answer to that question.  Why didn’t I think of that?

** see 1 Cor. 3:10-15, among other passages, for a description of this sort of process



 

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My father in law and I had a unique relationship, especially as it relates to our spiritual journies.  The video below has some intel about that, feel free to get in touch if you have questions or want to chat about just what the heck I'm talking about.  Rest in peace, Werner. 

Up until now my family has been mercifully spared from trajedy due to Covid 19.  But now dad is among the statistics, which never had to be as large as they were.  That pisses me off, not gonna lie, but I hope we're all still doing what we can to support our immune systems as well as the societal systems that will help us get to the other side of this thing. 

In a previous post I had some comments about whether the Coronavirus pandemic could be seen as the wrath of God, and if so in what way.  Now we have the one-two punch of a pandemic and racial unrest that reveals a soul-sick society still in great need of redemptive healing.  And the voice of one segment of that society cries out in rage. 

Let me just re-iterate the basis of my comments on the virus founded in a Pauline notion of the divine: that God is not a being “out there somewhere”, somehow separate from their creation, but is “over all and through all and in all,” and “in whom we live and move and have our being.”  A reality that transcends creation, but that creation is a part of, that we as humans are integrally connected with, and which is ultimately defined by one word: love.  In that way, who we are and how well we reflect that definition will in part define the health and wellness of God themselves.  

I combine that with the story of a man who is said to be the ultimate example of what that reality would look like as an actual human being living among us.  He was an ethnic minority living in territory occupied by a nation obsessed with its own power and economic well being, daily witness to all of the injustices which accompany that.  A nation with a political structure that was in bed with religious leaders who used a fear and shame based religion to keep people subjugated physically and spiritually.  A system controlled by religious and political leaders who based their power and privilege in defining who the outsiders were and who was less than equal. 

The God-man raged against it.  He excoriated the religious elite with no-holds-barred teaching to lay bare their hypocrisy.  He raged through the marketplace with a whip, disrupting commerce and calling out their unjust and unequal economics for the ungodly travesty it was.  

That was the wrath of God.  That was the voice of God raging against the injustice that is the opposite of love.  Today that is what I am hearing in the rhetoric and seeing in the overturning of tables.  

I began with the notion that the voice of one segment of our society cries out in rage.  I hear in that voice the wrath of a God crying out in sickness and pain, who is still not well, not entirely whole. Because we shouldn’t be able to even describe our brothers and sisters as a “segment” of our society.   It has been 2,000 years since a movement began with the declaration that there are no segments, we are all one and a part of the one that is all.  But here we are.  

The winds and the rain are beating against our house, revealing a foundation that is cracked and unstable.  It remains to be seen if the great crash is what’s next, and if so whether we are able to rebuild a better foundation in order to construct something more durable. 

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I had a conversation the other day with someone about whether the Coronavirus outbreak is going to be considered an “act of God.”  This apparently has some financial implications related to insurance and stuff, but for my part I was wondering how it is those who purport to be followers of God would think about something like this, if it is indeed a deliberate act.

I start with the presumption that the usual way to think about deliberate acts of God like this have something to do with God being angry and pouring out judgment, the so-called “wrath of God.”   For a long time now I’ve thought a little differently about that phrase. Wrath, or orge, is derived from the notion of a plant swelling with liquid and “crowding out” what doesn’t belong. To me, that’s a perfect analogy to our immune system: if we are attacked by something like a virus our immune system sends white blood cells to attack it and drive it out.  

Combine that understanding with how I have evolved theologically (my term: not everyone would consider it an evolution) to think about God more along Pauline lines: that God is “over all and through all and in all,” and “in whom we live and move and have our being,” but especially that God is love: absolute compassion in action.  The leads me to think of the "wrath of God" as their immune system: a built in response that crowds out whatever does not conform to that ideal.  

A couple of examples of “natural disasters” which were also “acts of God” described in the bible come to mind.  One is the great flood annihilating everyone because the earth was corrupt and full of violence. I no longer subscribe to a dualistic view of God as a deity out there somewhere full of anger who devolves into a genocidal maniac.  However, there is a story here that says something true: bad things happen when we are corrupt and hostile toward one another. But when the waters have subsided there are always those left who have evolved to understand peace better and able to declare “never again.”  

Likewise, the sin of Sodom was that “She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.” (Ezekiel 16:49)  We know what the “act of God” was in that story. 

This is a god-awful mess we’re in right now.  But is it an act of God? I’m hoping so. Not as a deliberate judgment from a wrathful deity being poured out on us from elsewhere, but an immune response that will help us make progress in crowding out those things that do not conform to love, to compassion in action.  

As I write there is a conversation going on as to whether it is worth sacrificing potentially millions of lives on the altar of the markets.  I pray that God’s immune response during this crisis will help to crowd out and destroy that kind of thinking. There are even so-called “Christian” leaders joining this pathetic godless chorus.  I pray that this will help to hasten the demise of that particular “strain” of Christianity. 

I hope you don’t mind me referring to it as that.  I’m not suggesting that brand of fundamentalism is a virus that humanity has contracted. 

Really,  I’m not. 

I pray that God’s immune response will help us to evolve beyond the lessons of coronavirus into ways of thinking about our economic systems that advance the cause of justice, what the Bible calls righteousness: everything working right for everyone.  

I pray that God’s immune response will help us to evolve in our understanding that our common humanity knows no borders and we are all in this together because we are all one thing, God in us and us in them.  ​
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I no longer believe something like the Corona epidemic could be a deliberate act of God who decided for whatever reason to do this to humanity.  I could never even like a God like that, much less love them. But I have no trouble thinking of this as a divine immune response that will help us to be stronger and better as a human race on the other side: a people more just, more compassionate, and more committed to the systems and processes that will achieve that kind of wellness: that kind of salubris.  

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