Of course "going to church" in Second Life still seems more amusing than completely serious. If it were the opposite, I'd worry I was entering into some sort of Matrix lifestyle. I think what is interesting about Second Life is that it does provide an opportunity to "worship" without actually having to go long distances -- or any distance -- to a physical church. In my case, I now live a little further out of Seattle than I might have thought possible while still claiming to live in the "Seattle area".
Anyhow, here is the text of the query for Friends Meeting for Worship: October 3, 2009
Centering Thoughts
"We get most upset with those we love the most because they are close to us and we know that they are aware of our weaknesses…If only we could learn to live with our inadequacies, our frailties, our vulnerabilities, we would not need to try so hard to push away those who really know us…We can love others with their failure when we stop despising ourselves because of our failures."
Archbishop Desmond Tutu
Reflect on these words of Desmond Tutu and how they may reveal truth to you about your relationship to God and to other people.
I enjoyed listening to this 30 minute radio piece about silence, part of a bbc series called "Something Understood." It touched on how silence can rejuvenate and how it can hurt. The intro:
Silence is something many of us crave in a world full of clamour, but, as Fergal Keane discovers, it means much more than the mere absence of noise.
I was unable to attend the Quaker retreat this weekend so I decided to return to Second Life where a meeting for worship is held every Saturday at 10 Pacific Time. It has been several months since I last logged on to this colorful world. My avatar looks like he is just fine, sporting the same haircut, same cool jeans, and same dark red shoes. He seems to be able to handle pretty much anything and come through unscathed. Next, perhaps he will be speaking to me like Humphrey Bogart in "Play it Again Sam", that wonderful Woody Allen movie from 1972. Bogart gives dating advice to Woody Allen who suddenly finds himself single.
Come to think of it, isn't my avatar supposed to be me? Isn't that point of virtual worlds? To speak of my avatar in the third person is surely heresy. If only fine clothes were as affordable in real life as there are in Second Life...
Regardless of those questions however, it felt good to be back in the Quaker Meeting house on Cedar Island in SL. I admit it may seem odd to attend church in Second Life, especially a Quaker Meeting featuring silent worship. People can still "speak out of the silence" via the local chat IM feature. Today's theme centered around trust and I shared some of the challenges I have faced around the frayed trust with some of my longtime Quaker friends. And like many real life meetings for worship, this one began with a query:
Centering Thoughts for Spetember 26: Friends Meeting for Worship
Reflect today on the intersection of a lifetime of preparation, a willingness to trust our Present Teacher, and the ongoing circumstances and needs that confront us.
Each of us brings our lifetime of learning, knowledge, and competence with us to each day, each person and each new circumstance we face. Some of us are more confident than others in believing that we are capable to meet these circumstances.
While we may or may not have confidence in ourselves, each of us has the potential to trust. The question is, to what or whom do we put our trust in? Friends have long held that Christ, our Present Teacher is inwardly available and knowable by each who seek. Are we able to trust for that which we need in this moment?
For, there are surely no lack of needs to attend to and no lack of people to befriend. There is no lack of opportunity for partnering in good work and for serving and loving.
Let us look for the places where our preparation, along with our trust meet in service and love, in the light!
It was probably for the best that I did not attend memorial services for Jose Hernando. Or that I did not arrive in time to witness his father speak to the bicyclists gathered in his memory Sunday. I even missed the moment of silence at the very spot where Jose was struck down inexplicably by an oncoming van along Lake Washington Boulevard last month. I wanted to be there. I was just running late.
Not knowing Jose personally, I only know about what I have read and heard. He was 44. He was married. He was the father of two children. He had ridden his bicycle for years.
One member of our team described how he first met Jose back in 1990 when he played in the local band "First Thought" at Rock Candy, the famed Grunge venue.
“Over the past few years I would see him riding and we would talk about the old days and the music scene,” my teammate said. “He was currently dealing with all the same issues we do -- trying to train while working and raising two young girls.”
I remember hanging out at Rock Candy back in 1990 even if I only really went there a few times. I was not a regular. But like Jose, I would become a regular in a different role: changing diapers, trying to race my bike, and thrive at a big company.
And like many of us on local teams, we ride, race, and reach for something more – all on faith that it will be safe. But like mountain climbers, we know the risks.
So I joined the memorial ride as it progressed around the south end of Lake Washington Sunday. It was a sobering sight to see riders from multiple teams bicycling toward me as I rode in from the south to meet them.
When the memorial event finished on Martin Luther King Blvd, I caught up to one rider whose efforts reflected a dedication that stands out even among the local cycling supremos. In the morning, she won near top honors at a half ironman triathlon. In the afternoon, she came out for her teammate.
Ben showed me this article today. It is really very interesting. To be honest, this is the kind of love I aspire to be able to show to people. I just hope I am strong enough throughout my life to live up to these goals.
(I copied the text for those who can't get the link to work)
Those Aren’t Fighting Words, Dear
LET’S say you have what you believe to be a healthy marriage. You’re still friends and lovers after spending more than half of your lives together. The dreams you set out to achieve in your 20s — gazing into each other’s eyes in candlelit city bistros when you were single and skinny — have for the most part come true.
Two decades later you have the 20 acres of land, the farmhouse, the children, the dogs and horses. You’re the parents you said you would be, full of love and guidance. You’ve done it all: Disneyland, camping, Hawaii, Mexico, city living, stargazing.
Sure, you have your marital issues, but on the whole you feel so self-satisfied about how things have worked out that you would never, in your wildest nightmares, think you would hear these words from your husband one fine summer day: “I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did. I’m moving out. The kids will understand. They’ll want me to be happy.”
But wait. This isn’t the divorce story you think it is. Neither is it a begging-him-to-stay story. It’s a story about hearing your husband say “I don’t love you anymore” and deciding not to believe him. And what can happen as a result.
Here’s a visual: Child throws a temper tantrum. Tries to hit his mother. But the mother doesn’t hit back, lecture or punish. Instead, she ducks. Then she tries to go about her business as if the tantrum isn’t happening. She doesn’t “reward” the tantrum. She simply doesn’t take the tantrum personally because, after all, it’s not about her.
Let me be clear: I’m not saying my husband was throwing a child’s tantrum. No. He was in the grip of something else — a profound and far more troubling meltdown that comes not in childhood but in midlife, when we perceive that our personal trajectory is no longer arcing reliably upward as it once did. But I decided to respond the same way I’d responded to my children’s tantrums. And I kept responding to it that way. For four months.
“I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did.”
His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch, yet somehow in that moment I was able to duck. And once I recovered and composed myself, I managed to say, “I don’t buy it.” Because I didn’t.
He drew back in surprise. Apparently he’d expected me to burst into tears, to rage at him, to threaten him with a custody battle. Or beg him to change his mind.
So he turned mean. “I don’t like what you’ve become.”
Gut-wrenching pause. How could he say such a thing? That’s when I really wanted to fight. To rage. To cry. But I didn’t.
Instead, a shroud of calm enveloped me, and I repeated those words: “I don’t buy it.”
You see, I’d recently committed to a non-negotiable understanding with myself. I’d committed to “The End of Suffering.” I’d finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I’d seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it.
My husband hadn’t yet come to this understanding with himself. He had enjoyed many years of hard work, and its rewards had supported our family of four all along. But his new endeavor hadn’t been going so well, and his ability to be the breadwinner was in rapid decline. He’d been miserable about this, felt useless, was losing himself emotionally and letting himself go physically. And now he wanted out of our marriage; to be done with our family.
But I wasn’t buying it.
I said: “It’s not age-appropriate to expect children to be concerned with their parents’ happiness. Not unless you want to create co-dependents who’ll spend their lives in bad relationships and therapy. There are times in every relationship when the parties involved need a break. What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?”
“Huh?” he said.“Go trekking in Nepal. Build a yurt in the back meadow. Turn the garage studio into a man-cave. Get that drum set you’ve always wanted. Anything but hurting the children and me with a reckless move like the one you’re talking about.”
Then I repeated my line, “What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?”
“Huh?”
“How can we have a responsible distance?”
“I don’t want distance,” he said. “I want to move out.”
My mind raced. Was it another woman? Drugs? Unconscionable secrets? But I stopped myself. I would not suffer.
Instead, I went to my desk, Googled “responsible separation” and came up with a list. It included things like: Who’s allowed to use what credit cards? Who are the children allowed to see you with in town? Who’s allowed keys to what?
I looked through the list and passed it on to him.
His response: “Keys? We don’t even have keys to our house.”
I remained stoic. I could see pain in his eyes. Pain I recognized.
“Oh, I see what you’re doing,” he said. “You’re going to make me go into therapy. You’re not going to let me move out. You’re going to use the kids against me.”
“I never said that. I just asked: What can we do to give you the distance you need ... ”
“Stop saying that!”
Well, he didn’t move out.
Instead, he spent the summer being unreliable. He stopped coming home at his usual six o’clock. He would stay out late and not call. He blew off our entire Fourth of July — the parade, the barbecue, the fireworks — to go to someone else’s party. When he was at home, he was distant. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. He didn’t even wish me “Happy Birthday.”
But I didn’t play into it. I walked my line. I told the kids: “Daddy’s having a hard time as adults often do. But we’re a family, no matter what.” I was not going to suffer. And neither were they.
MY trusted friends were irate on my behalf. “How can you just stand by and accept this behavior? Kick him out! Get a lawyer!”
I walked my line with them, too. This man was hurting, yet his problem wasn’t mine to solve. In fact, I needed to get out of his way so he could solve it.
I know what you’re thinking: I’m a pushover. I’m weak and scared and would put up with anything to keep the family together. I’m probably one of those women who would endure physical abuse. But I can assure you, I’m not. I load 1,500-pound horses into trailers and gallop through the high country of Montana all summer. I went through Pitocin-induced natural childbirth. And a Caesarean section without follow-up drugs. I am handy with a chain saw.
I simply had come to understand that I was not at the root of my husband’s problem. He was. If he could turn his problem into a marital fight, he could make it about us. I needed to get out of the way so that wouldn’t happen.
Privately, I decided to give him time. Six months.
I had good days, and I had bad days. On the good days, I took the high road. I ignored his lashing out, his merciless jabs. On bad days, I would fester in the August sun while the kids ran through sprinklers, raging at him in my mind. But I never wavered. Although it may sound ridiculous to say “Don’t take it personally” when your husband tells you he no longer loves you, sometimes that’s exactly what you have to do.
Instead of issuing ultimatums, yelling, crying or begging, I presented him with options. I created a summer of fun for our family and welcomed him to share in it, or not — it was up to him. If he chose not to come along, we would miss him, but we would be just fine, thank you very much. And we were.
And, yeah, you can bet I wanted to sit him down and persuade him to stay. To love me. To fight for what we’ve created. You can bet I wanted to.
But I didn’t.
I barbecued. Made lemonade. Set the table for four. Loved him from afar.
And one day, there he was, home from work early, mowing the lawn. A man doesn’t mow his lawn if he’s going to leave it. Not this man. Then he fixed a door that had been broken for eight years. He made a comment about our front porch needing paint. Our front porch. He mentioned needing wood for next winter. The future. Little by little, he started talking about the future.
It was Thanksgiving dinner that sealed it. My husband bowed his head humbly and said, “I’m thankful for my family.”
He was back.
And I saw what had been missing: pride. He’d lost pride in himself. Maybe that’s what happens when our egos take a hit in midlife and we realize we’re not as young and golden anymore.
When life’s knocked us around. And our childhood myths reveal themselves to be just that. The truth feels like the biggest sucker-punch of them all: it’s not a spouse or land or a job or money that brings us happiness. Those achievements, those relationships, can enhance our happiness, yes, but happiness has to start from within. Relying on any other equation can be lethal.
My husband had become lost in the myth. But he found his way out. We’ve since had the hard conversations. In fact, he encouraged me to write about our ordeal. To help other couples who arrive at this juncture in life. People who feel scared and stuck. Who believe their temporary feelings are permanent. Who see an easy out, and think they can escape.
My husband tried to strike a deal. Blame me for his pain. Unload his feelings of personal disgrace onto me.
But I ducked. And I waited. And it worked."As a younger person, I would have loved to enter a Tolkien-esque world (and could easily pass for a hobbit too!), and some of the imaginary worlds I was drawing as a teenager, but I don't really have those kind of escapist longings any more. More and more I see fantasy worlds - as in The Arrival - as a way of tapping into the real world, of trying to understand reality better through a speculative lens. If I was to visit that world, I would immediately lose my bearings, like entering a metaphor without its real-world anchorage. I prefer to visit using only a pencil on paper."
-Shaun Tan
Obama Pitches Federal Reserve Plan
This makes me a little scared...just because I'm wary of how much power we give to one authority...especially one that isn't officially part of the government at all.
I think the system we have set up inherently has the flaws that we're trying to eliminate. Giving more power and oversight will only bandaid the problem. I think we need some sort of overhaul...though, being no economical expert, I'm not sure which direction to go.
Why Christians Should Vote to Legalize Same Sex Marriage
For the purpose of this article I am going to adopt a distinctly
conservative Christian perspective and write for a distinctly
conservative Christian
audience. I want to put forth the idea that even if you believe
homosexuality is morally wrong, a sin even, you should still vote for
its legalization.
Freedom vs. License
"Freedom and fear are at war. Freedom is not, "being able to do whatever you want to do." That is license. If you have license, rather than authentic freedom, your house is built on sand and will collapse. Authentic freedom is the power to do what we ought to do; the power to choose the good, the true, and the beautiful. That will vanquish fear every time. If your concept of freedom is really license, fear will come out on top every time. Freedom has to be united with truth. There is no freedom outside of the truth: No authentic human freedom outside of the truth. "If you are truly my disciples, you will abide in my word. You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free." True freedom is rooted in God."
- Fr. John Corapi
As Fr. Corapi says, Freedom is not license, it is more along the lines of personal authenticity. If God is both Truth and within you, then when you are acting the most authentically and genuinely, you are acting in God's will. Interestingly enough, this does not mean we should forsake license, for license and Freedom are tightly intertwined. If it weren't for license, we could not genuinely choose to do what is right, for we would do it automatically. This is why God gave us free will. He allows us to sin so that we might learn, grow, and come to the truth in a very personal and authentic way. There can be no authenticity, and no Freedom, without license.
The opposite of Freedom is fear, and the opposite of license is restriction. When a society implements restrictions on its citizens, it does not only prevent its citizens from acting authentically, it acts out of fear itself. Even though our intentions are good, restricting the public to do only what is morally right harms everyone. The people may choose the right thing, but for the wrong reasons. They follow truth, but they do so disingenuously. We are teaching them to act a certain way out of fear of the consequences. And we ourselves, who put the policy in place, we are acting out of fear as well. We are afraid that we can't trust people, and that if we don't exert some pressure on them, they won't choose the right thing.
When God looks at us, does He have these fears? Well, His heart is probably breaking all the time, seeing us choose to bury our true selves and choose against His will. But He does not intervene and force us to change our minds. He honors His gift to us of free will, and He lets us make mistakes. He does not act out of fear that He will lose us. In fact, one of Jesus's most persistent messages was "Be not afraid." Fear blinds us, keeps us from the truth. And out of fear we impose God's will on the people in our society, when even God himself will not do that.
The Purpose of Law
Contrary to a lot of current thought, the purpose of Law is not to uphold or enforce morality. Law is about enforcing the minimum standard of action necessary to be a functioning member of society. It is about preservation of society, putting restrictions on license where necessary in order to prevent its citizens from harming each other. Other than that, it should allow its citizens as much license as possible. If you look at many of our current laws (against murder, theft, drinking and driving, etc), we make acts illegal when they harm someone or infringe on their rights against their will.
Morality calls us to a much higher standard than the Law. Christian morality is about rejecting sin in all its forms and transforming yourself inside and out to become more and more like Jesus Christ. And, as I stated in the last section, we cannot force Christian morality on members of our society without denying them the chance to choose it freely. That's what makes morality such a wonderful, lofty, and praiseworthy ideal. It is not something you are forced to do, it is something you choose to do.
Given everything that has been said thus far, as Christians it is our duty to emulate God and allow people to sin, as long as that sin does not harm another person. It may break our hearts to see people shun the truth, but we have to let them. From the standpoint of the Law, we need to allow same sex marriage. To vote against it is to act out of fear, and to thereby distance ourselves from God.
Calming Leftover Fears - Definitions
In order to get ourselves to a place where we are emotionally ready to permit same sex marriage on a political level, we need to address two major fears that plague our hearts.
The first is that by legalizing gay marriage, we would be corrupting an institution that God created. I know this is a sensitive issue, and I will try my best to treat it fairly and gently. We must admit that the word marriage is full of different meanings on different levels. Traditionally, marriage has not always been meant as a spiritual union in the eyes of God. There has always been a social aspect as well. Marriage has been used as a political tool to unite warring factions or countries. It has been used in order to barter out a better life for your family line. It has been used as a financial safety net. Even today, people marry for all sorts of reasons. They marry for money, for lust, or for social status. Some people get married for love, but do not associate themselves with any religious tradition at all.
This does not in any way detract from the beauty and profundity of the Sacrament of marriage in its religious context. It is as if we can talk about marriage on two levels. There is the social/political level, and the spiritual/religious level. The social/political level has changed many times over the centuries without affecting the spiritual/religious ideal of marriage. And so it is today. Allowing same sex marriage affects the social definition of marriage, not the religious one. As a Christian, you do not have to recognize same sex marriages as being approved or sanctioned by God. It is in the name of the State only.
If this proves to be too difficult of a place for us to reach, then perhaps we need to take another route. Many have stated that they are just fine with civil unions, as long as gays aren't allowed to marry. But what is a civil union other than the social/political level of marriage? Although, if we insist on keeping the word marriage solely in its religious context, then we must be fair in how we treat it on a social/political level. By this I mean taking the word marriage out of State hands entirely. Everyone would get civil unions, and then if they chose to take the extra step of getting married, they can do so through their Church.
But it is imperative that we maintain equality between same sex couples and heterosexual couples. When Jesus dealt with sinners, whores, and thieves, did he not treat them as equals? Isn't that what allowed him to get through to them?
Calming Leftover Fears - The Children
The other major fear has to do with what our children will see and be taught with regards to homosexuality. We do not like the idea that schools and/or the media will be telling our children that homosexuality is okay and perfectly acceptable.
Before we go into ways to ease this fear, let us explore for a bit the root of it. When it comes to our children, we want nothing to corrupt them. We want the best for them. And because we are Christians, we want them to grow up with those same values, that they might find their way to God as well. But this leads us to be fearful of letting anything "unclean" touch them. We are afraid that the power of evil is too strong, too tempting, and that if our children are exposed, their weaker minds will be enveloped and there will be nothing we can do about it.
But children can smell our fear. And they react in one of two major ways. They either adopt the same fears, or they rebel against them and challenge them. As we discussed earlier, fear is not truth. Truth is Freedom. Some children sense this on a deep level...that the actions we take are spawned from fear, and so they reject any truth that they might express. Either we perpetuate the feeling of fear, or our children take their lives in a radically different direction in order to reject it.
There is a better way. Do not be afraid to talk to your children. Do not be afraid that they won't turn out how you want them to, or that their lives won't be as happy as the lives you imagine and want for them. Trust God. By working on your own inner state, you can better help them grow up in God's love.
If you adopt the frame of mind discussed in this essay, talking to your children about same sex marriage is not as confusing as many, including the National Organization for Marriage, have made it out to be. By showing your acceptance of it on a political level, you do not give off the same fear, and children are less likely to rebel. You can then explain to your child what I explained in this essay, that marriage for Christians is something even more deep and spiritual and religious than society's definition.
Should your child still grow up and choose to marry someone of the same sex, the other thing that legalizing same sex marriage will do to help you is that it will drastically change the homosexual community. With marriage and finding someone to love seen as the end goal of any life, even a homosexual one, your child will grow up seeing examples of gay men in loving, committed relationships. They will see gay women caring for each other and their children. If your child does end up to be homosexual, wouldn't you rather they choose this sort of life as opposed to one of promiscuity?
This brings me to another caveat to adopting a position free of fear. We must maintain a sort of "detachment" from the outcome. If your child does happen to be homosexual and to choose to marry someone of the same sex, you cannot take it personally. It may break your heart, but to force your child to deny what he feels is truth makes you look fearful and your child will not respond. To give your child a chance at Freedom, authenticity, and Truth...you must let him make his own choices.
Conclusion
In summary, the Christian life is about transforming ourselves and emulating Christ, who is God in human form. In order to become like God we must follow Freedom, authenticity, and Truth...and we must lay aside fear. It is difficult, and there is much resistance. The path is indeed narrow. It is hard to give up what we think keeps us safe. But to do so shows that we really do have Faith and Trust in God, that we are willing to let Him shape events and to adopt His perspective rather than merely our own. In our own struggle towards Freedom, we must surrender our fears about the paths of others and strive, by example, to be a light to the world, should they choose to see it or not.
*As you may have guessed, I am by no means conservative. I tried to adopt that perspective for the sake of the argument.
