Dj'ever?

Sometimes things happen and sink into one's subconscious. We had a
tragic murder here on the North Shore in the town my Mom lives. My God
Daughter attends high school with the sister of the women who was murdered.
They attend the same faith community. She was a math teacher, twenty four years of
age and loved by her students and by all reports a dedicated and talented teacher. Her
life was cut short by an alleged student of just fourteen years.

Yes - sad, yes - inexplicable, and yes - well it leaves me empty and questioning.

Tonight, as I left my Mom's after an afternoon visit, I came to what can be an impossible
intersection with an often dangerous intersection. As I placed my left turn signal on
to indicate my anticipated turn, a sea of blue flashing lights on police motorcycles
caught my eye to my left. Easily there were over twenty cycles followed by several
police cruisers. I thought perhaps an escort to the airport for some visiting dignitary.
But then I saw a long line of yellow school buses followed by more police vehicles
and several more private cars with their emergency flashers on.

My heart sank. For the first time since the reports of this crime flooded our
airwaves, the human dimension thrust its way into a newer reality. These
buses were filled with students heading to Andover to attend the wake of a
teacher who had mentored them and touched their hearts as well as challenged
their minds.

A deep sadness overwhelmed me. I thought of how long this ride must feel
to those on these buses.  I reached into my deepest place and asked for the
protection and comfort of these people as this heart breaking journey overtook
their young lives.

I do not seek meaning or understanding, I just reach out in silence and hope
to the afflicted. I hope I do not have to feel this again for a similar event, but
I am not that much of a Pollyanna.

Godspeed for the mourners...

Faith.....?

What is faith?
Is it the first or last stop on our
road to understanding......
Or is it a continuum that we
live with and with hope
live with or into?

Sometimes the gray
overwhelms the with or the into.

Sometimes - I just do not know.

Sometimes - I don't want to think about knowing.

And yet.....

There is a hunger deep inside me
that says...

It is not a choice.

It is a thing of knowing.

No explanation will serve it.

It just is.....

And in that is the wonder.

Hard facts are not present and
do not need to be.

Feed that hunger,
Open your inner self
to new possibilities.

Be courageous
and explore that hunger.

The reward will be unexpected
and most probably be
not seen...................................


R

Morning Turle Reflections

Well,  the drama of yesterday is where it belongs.....to yesterday.  The gigantic
turtle has returned to where gigantic turtles go and after much reflection and
googling, I  have come to the following conclusions. The BIG turtle was most likely
a mother readying an appropriate space in my yard to deposit her eggs and then
abandon them to their gestation time and their run for the nearest water and life
when the necessary time comes. The BIG turtle's ritualistic behaviors speak to
this conclusion. Now I must wait, keep the depositing place safe and unspoiled
for the next couple of months and hopefully see the birth and run for the marsh
waters.

I feel a new responsibility as witness to the first planting and then to the cyclic
birthing and departure for new life. I am living in my own laboratory for new
life, my own little wild kingdom.

This is cool.

I'll keep you posted.......




R

Back yard drama/Rodin/WTF...

My back yard abuts a freshwater marsh. It is undermined by the former presence of woodchucks, also an abandoned septic system and the decaying under root systems of former weeping willows. To walk about my yard is to sometimes sink, falter and turn ones ankle or try to sidestep divots larger than a golfer's swing could envisage.

Imagine my surprise to look out onto my yard from my rear deck and see some "pre-historic"  creature trying to ascertain its whereabouts! Two divots of prior years had merged into a semi-mini-sinkhole like distribution of dirt with a turtle like creature saying WTF - where am I and how did I get here? This non petite creature appeared to have a shell of at least 18 inches by 12 inches and that is a conservative estimate from this left wing politico!

It seemed very disorientated. From the hole to a circular rendezvous and back again it was in an attempted safe behavior mode - at least that what I assumed. Water was a little far from its position and what the hell was it doing below the surface of my yard anyway? It all seemed so Japanese horror film-ish....you know like Rodin emerging from the mountain.....

I observed this for about an hour before heading into the city for a dental appointment. Arriving home at dusk - the soil disturbance was evident - but the perpetrator had disappeared  for the present. What will the morrow bring? Will my yard be the safe place it has always been? Are turtles - even large ones - herbivores and thus a danger to my new vegetable garden?

I just don't know. I sense an invasion, possible danger - as I said this is one big turtle. And its time to mow the lawn! Trying to pin this into my spiritual life, I ask what is the Spirit asking of me and what response is in order? How does one rescue a creature and lead it to water? What if I just do nothing?

Approaching midnight - so I guess I will wait for the dawn and do due diligence after sunrise,
after all - I do not have a working flashlight!




R

Egrets and Episcopalians.........really?

A shadow? Yes,
A glimpse of Easter White? I think.
Ah......The wings fully opened, spread upward
a frame in time fully frozen as the angelic, winged
beauty hovers in time and
lowers itself into the murky waters and marsh mud
that is just at the edge of my yard.

Breathing silently I observe. Then a second one
repeats this process.
The pair gazes both about them and at one another.
In an innate harmony, they communicate.
Their quest for food  is fully present.
But, too, they preen - making sure their plumage
is just so, as the breezes bluster about them.

I see their necks bending to and fro as if chatting
about the events of the day,
A motion that is perfect in its synergy.
A dance.
A liturgy of being.
Both compassionate and caring and entirely present.

The next quest is of hunting for food.
Their movements  so stoic, yet amorously awkward.
Feet prying up from the mud,
these spindle-like legs keeping balance and forward progression.

Angular agressions to pick the lucious morsels they seek.
Beauty in motion, purpose personified.

A pause.
They pose.
They seem to be speaking in the great quiet of this space.
Perhaps an exchange of gossip?

More grooming and more connection to their
ubiquitous envirenment.

A sudden rustle, a small panic ridden moment.
Wings spread and flap.
The slow rise from the marsh,
And they are gone -
for now,
Hopefully to return when ready to begin
all this again.

Am I speaking of Egrets
or Episcopalians?

Hmmmm,
I do wonder..........

Roots - Where are my faith roots and who are the people who populate my journey?

 A very lengthly title, but perhaps descriptive in its own way. It is useful to look
back at one's life to see how one becomes a self, to contemplate on those whose
tug has journeyed you forward into something outside of the self you perceive and
often do not fully know. It is this question that brings about this post. I want to
acknowledge some of those people that have helped or quietly assisted my journey.
Of course there are many - so I will concentrate on only a few, apologies to those
not named in advance.

How did I become  a person on a journey of faith?  I must look at early influences
and also those that pushed me aside. A faith journey must include both or there
can be no steps forward or backward.

I remember sitting next to my Mom. While others were mumbling their prayer
responses, Mom had  clarion, well enunciated responses. It made me both proud
and also attentive to the words. Earlier she had been a Sunday school teacher and
assistant in the formation process of young people's learning experience about their
faith. Dad was quiet, present and that is all I remember. He had come from a family
with various folks who had position in the church. His great uncle was an educator
and was headmaster for a boys' prep school before and during the Civil War near
Hagerstown Maryland, then on to Trinity College in Hartford as president and then
after only a year was called to be the first Bishop of the newly formed Diocese of
Western Pennsylvania, Dad's great grandfather has been an Episcopal priest in Ohio.
And the were a few others called to be clergy.

Mom's family had a few circuit preachers, also in Pennsylvania, in the Methodist tradition.
So church was important in my predessors' lives. Mom's Dad was a reader and studier
of faith, always trying to find the faith tradition that spoke to him. He died a Unitarian.
His wife remained unchurched at her death. My Dad's family was relentlessly Episcopalian.
So here I am - a cradle Episcopalian. I had a long desert time from college years until
I came to Gloucester in 1980. Friends and needs drew me back to try to find a place in
some faith tradition. The Episcopal church had changed a great deal and I felt at home
in a good way when I first traversed the great red doors and here I am today. I am and will
always be working on the whys, hows, and impossibilities of our faith. And I know that that
is OK and just part of the journey.

These are but words that lead me to try to state what I do believe at this moment in
time. A few years back I wrote a Credo as an exercise for a seminar group I was involved
with and I feel it is still valid as to what I believe just now:

A Credo

 

I believe in God, creator of all that is, seen and unseen,

known and not yet known, perceived and not yet

perceived.

 

I believe that a man named Jesus lived in this good

creation. He was a revolutionary in his time and called

all into an accounting. Because of his truth and action,

he was perceived as a revelation of God in human

life. His life presence was so strong that death could

not separate him from the remembrance of his

followers.

 

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the unseen working of God

in creation. Like God, the Spirit is always creating and present in human time, engaging and acting in,

with and through us.

 

I believe that God revealed to us through Jesus, the

Christ, our human potential to fully love, forgive and

redeem humanity through relationship and community.

 

Thus in death, we see life; in birth, we see hope and possibility; in relationship, we see love as transformer

and creator.

 

Amen.

                                                                                              R O Britton