Transcentental Etude

Liszt - passage from Transcendental Etude # 1

In an SF novel by Joe Haldeman (Worlds), there is a scene where the protagonist is describing other participants in a musical performance she is participating in.  In particular she is noticing two of the other musicians, one who is technically proficient and skilled, if a little distant, while the other, also proficient, appears to be continually in amazement of the sounds coming from the instrument, as if unwilling to credit other than their own skill at the music produced, that the instrument itself is somehow possessed by will and responsible for the wonderful sounds created.

These character observations really have no further relevance to the story, and I can only imagine that this awareness of transcendency was something he had seen, and felt compelled to get the experience down on paper. By its nature, transcendental experiences are those that surpass and rise above our mundane expectations and experiences, hopefully transforming us in the wake of their passage.

I bring this up because of an insight I recently had during a contemplative retreat. This retreat was aimed at helping the participants make more of a connection between their interior spiritual life and the Christian liturgy (in the instant example, it was aimed at the Episcopal liturgy).

One of the facets of that connection is to make the conscious effort to listen to, and reflect on, what is contained in that liturgy.  Indeed when you reflect upon the liturgy, and “deconstruct” it, without actually being that rigorously analytical, we can open up our perceptions to allow the transcendency of the mystical to be recognized, and view what one subjectively experiences as “listening with love,” “delight,” “amazement” or simple wonder, as that musician Haldeman described in his novel's scene. For most of us, this feeling of experiential wonder is fleeting and unpredictable, except that, when we consciously seek for that feeling of wonder it is certain to elude us.

One of these transcendentally transformative experiences for Christians can be the simple act of contemplation and acceptance of the Eucharist. Being human, our inner life is usually full, not of thoughts of the sublime, but of the ordinary, are our shoes at the proper state of shiny? Look at the state of that altar cloth! The ability to be as empty of preconception, and as open to acceptance of Christ's presence is rare indeed, and the more we strive for that state the more it will elude us, such that when it does come, it is a surprise that can overwhelm and frighten. Thought of finding the sublime in our daily, mundane, life is supremely attractive to us.

That experience is so much more beauteous, so much more of a wonder beyond hope or expectations, when achieved, and so much, much more terrible when lost, we have only a fleeting glimpse of memory as treasure, either to hoard to ourselves or to share.

The achievement of that promise may be something that is as simple as accepting the existence of the reality of the mysticism and mystery in our faith, or it may be forever beyond our grasp.

Spiritual, Geek, Spiritual, Geek, How To Decide...

 There is a lot of vocal (phosphor-escent?) talk on the interwebs about how you cannot be both a scientist/thinker/rational or educated person if you are also a "person of faith."  Some is honest discussion, and some off it's simplistic insults, but a lot more of it reminds me of examples I've seen of on-line bullying.

This seems to derive from a false dichotomy similar to that described by C.P. Snow in "The Two Cultures,"  which described the perceived separation between science and the humanities. Really, being a geek and being spiritual do not have to be mutually exclusive.  There are many well-respected scientists, writers and fans who are people of faith, whether it be a variety of Christianity, being Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Jain, Santeria or any other flavor.

There is no inherent conflict between recognizing the excitement and wonder of a "big bang" and believing that a supreme being put it in motion.  There is no inherent conflict between a belief in a resurrected Christ and contemplating the beauty of crystals growing, being excited over the revelations held in the Earth's fossil record or the elegance of the dance of genetics. 

During mid-January I attended, and helped run, a science-fiction convention in Boston (ARISIA), with activities spread out over four days (Friday evening through Monday afternoon).  For those who don't attend, it's a broad-spectrum convention, with panels on SF/F literature, writing, "fannish" and lifestyle choices, along with films/anime/video, gaming, costuming (lots of costuming), a big dealer's room, a pretty good-sized (and pretty good) art show and a lot of schmoozing.   But one thing I realized I was missing when I attended these conventions, especially over the last few years, was being able to attend Sunday services.  It was something that simply had not been there.  And I wondered if I was the the only person who felt that, for them, an important part of one's life was being left unattended. So I decided to do something about it.

On Saturday and Sunday morning, at this year's ARISIA, I had the opportunity to reserve space for, and lead, a Morning Prayer service, part of the Daily Office.(*) This was the first year this convention has offered the prayer service to the attendees, simply because none asked it. Of course, for many of us who work as volunteers for these conventions, the only way we usually get to see any actual program items is if we manage to get ourselves put on the program.  So this was actually A Very Fannish Thing to do.

Because of a general failure in communications the prayer services did not make it into the program book, and I put out flyers In All The Usual Places to advertise. On Saturday morning, there were two worshipers, myself and one other (who had snagged a copy of the flyer when I had just printed them up, before I even got to put them out). On Sunday, there were six others, who had seen the flyers.

 Frankly, I was surprised that there was anybody there, thinking that the recognition of spiritual anchors was something lost, or not acknowledged in our secular times. I've since been told that some other conventions have services scheduled as a regular item, and that there is a much larger body of participants than I had imagined.  As someone who was raised Roman Catholic, however, to lead this worship, this active participation by a member of the lay congregation, which is such a central component of Episcopal worship, is a little frightening, with this personal, active, responsibility for worship that is ultimately our own.

I can only think that the turnout on Sunday shows that this is an unmet need in our community at conventions, and that it is something that should be offered going forward, and perhaps at other local conventions - there is no reason that the Anime-centered or hard-lit cons might not have the same need among their attendance.

And, yes, I am going to ask that it be included on the program track for next year's ARISIA as well.
- -- - -- - -- - --
(*) The Daily Office is what Anglicans/Episcopalians have evolved from the Roman Catholic liturgy that established daily prayers at set times during the day (often called the Divine Office).  Readers of many fantasy (and some British mystery) novels may recognize the names of these prayers, usually in context of a monastic community, but not what they stood for.

 Modern Catholic usage celebrates seven  offices daily::
 - Matins ("of or belonging to the morning" - said just before dawn)
 - Lauds ("Praises" - said at/just after dawn)
 - Terce ("Third Hour" - mid-morning prayer, said at 9:00 AM)
 - Sext   (" Sixth hour" - Mid-day prayer, said at noon)
 - None ("Ninth hour" - Mid-afternoon prayer, said at 3:00 PM)
 - Vespers ("Evening prayer" -  Said at sunset)
 - Compline ("Complete [the day]" - Final prayer of the Office of the day, usually said just before bedtime)

The Anglican usage is more abbreviated, with the major emphasis on the Morning Prayer (which combines Matins and Lauds) and Evening Prayer (corresponding to Vespers).  The other two offices of the Anglican Daily Office are Prayer During The Day (combines Terce, Sext and None) and Night Prayer (Compline).

With the busy schedule our industrialized world imposes, most people don't have the time to celebrate the Prayer During The Day and people are usually so distracted or tired they miss  Night Prayer.  All of the Offices, however, can be said in solitary or in company, and many Episcopal churches offer daily Morning and Evening prayer.

 (The form of the Morning Prayer I used for these services was from the Iona Abbey Worship Book, which was compiled by the Iona Community in 2000.)

Hear Our Prayer

    

Remember all those the world
     has forgotten,
  Those without family, or 
  Those on the streets,
  Those who are damaged by
    drugs, alcohol or
    their own minds.

Remember the unemployed,
  The widow, the orphan, and
  The prisoner.

God in your mercy,
    Hear our prayer.

Stillness, in motion

Our modern world demands our time, our energy,
our identity.

We navigate through our lives, 
   immersed into technology,
  demands that we subsume our individuality,
   to stay within the flow of traffic,
  commerce.

Too often we leave ourselves behind, 
  caught in the whirlpool, 
  losing sense of ourselves, 
  individual,
  not just parts in the machine.

Slow down,
  remember,
 recover who we are, 
 contemplate the breathing of a sleeping child, 
 wonder in the promise of the sleeping seed. 

=============================
"Muddy water,
let stand,
becomes clear.”
― Lao Tzu

On Service

“Do you covet honor? You will never get it by serving yourself. Do you covet distinction? You will get it only as the servant of mankind. Do not forget, then, … why you are here. You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order to enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand.” 
Woodrow T. Wilson (1856-1924) 

Wilson, a man of strong personal contrasts, the 28th President of the Unites States, is remembered as the man who shepherded the country through WW I and failed at getting the U.S. into the League of Nations.  A Progressive who  attempted to abolish child labor and was a supporter, albeit reluctant, of  woman’s suffrage.  Yet he also instituted strongly segregationist policies in  Federal government administration and was an unrepentant racist., a man who objected to slavery not on moral or humanitarian grounds, but as an attack on labor rights.

The quote above is excerpted from an address Wilson gave at Swarthmore College, in October of 1913.  In that address he exhorts the graduates to forgo the easy path of the privileged, and consider instead the road of sacrifice, very much implying that those who had the privileges of finance and family that enabled them to attend college were somehow intrinsically, rather than by circumstance, more favored than the rest of the citizenry,  and it was their duty to make those sacrifices, playing a "beneficent role" as in Kipling’s White Man’s Burden.

I find this address, and especially the quoted passage, as a case where one can find  commonality of result from wildly disparate foundations, where I find the impulse to Service, to live to the ideal to “enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement” as a logical result of the dictates of Humanism, theistic or not.  As a Christian I am compelled to service, by faith in the concept of humanity as a corporeal expression of God’s existence in the world, where His presence is implicit in every person, no matter the circumstances of birth, wealth or position. Or expressed faith.

The service offered may be working at, or contributing to, a food pantry, the public service that Wilson is exhorting the Swarthmore graduates to,  it may be a :random act of kindness" to a stranger, or something as mundane and unremarkable as erecting trail-side cairns to guide hikers you will never see.  But the act of service itself is something that seems to be called from many, as a part of the human condition.

In the Gospels Jesus exhorts us, the “graduates” of the tradition of two millennia of religious theorizing, to hearken back to the  simple aims He expressed:  to better the world;  to feed the hungry;  to visit the prisoner;  to care for the widow, the orphan and the leper.

 It is our simple duty, as human beings, to do so.

Of course, we need to remind ourselves to watch for the hubris, that overweening pride, of considering that, as Christians, we have some mystical superiority in the reasons for any good works we may do, and feel that the good done, out of simple altruism, by those who are of other faiths, or no faiths at all,  is somehow not as meaningful, or as uplifting.    The Grace offered, and shown, is offered to all, not just those who visibly follow the Law.

“You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand.”

Thomas' Faith

I recently was part of a small group that re-affirmed baptismal vows.

As part of that process, we met with the Bishop of our Diocese.  One of the things he asked us all, was to think on what Biblical story  we found most resonant for us.

Some found the resurrection at the tomb most important, others the story of Lazarus,  others still the parable of the Good Samaritan.

I realized that I really hadn't thought on what would be the most telling for me.

As I thought, the story that crystallizes my faith is that of Doubting Thomas.

Like many of the stories and parables in the New Testament,  this story can be viewed on many lights.  One of the advantages of a non-literal Bible tradition is that one can explore these different levels, and  we can view each of those as valid for discussion and contemplation.

The most common illumination of this story is the faith of the people who had not seen the visitation, yet still believed in the resurrection, unlike Thomas, who said "Show me."

What I find important in this tale is the circumstances involved.

In many cases, if one expresses doubt in The Faith, one is chastised or shunned.

Or the doubts force the doubter away, as they feel they have no place with those they may break from.

In this case, however, the week after the visitation that Thomas missed, he again met with the other disciples.

Those who had seen did not tell Thomas to go away because he did not believe, but welcomed him as their brother still.

Thomas himself did not cut himself from that community, either because he did not know where else to go, or he still hungered for the validation, at least second-hand, of his prior faith, or he still hungered for that faith itself.

When the Savior appeared again, He offered Thomas the chance to feel for himself the wounds, in order to prove the reality.  This was not done in spite or rebuke, but to show Thomas that he was still loved and wanted as a part of Christ's family, and that any proof would be offered gladly.

As someone was was unchurched for quite a while, this story, along with the parable of the prodigal son, speaks to me dearly, as reaffirmation that those who leave will be welcomed anew, with celebration and love.