Category Archives: Mostly the arts

What if I don’t feel God anymore?: Update for this godless time

A life in the Spirit, Film/TV, Psychological growth, Spiritual direction, , ,

I first explored this in 2012 and keep going back to Ewan McGregor’s parable about moving into new life. In the middle of Trump destruction, change is forced on us, so it does not feel like growth. But a client reminded me the other day, “Why waste a good crisis?”

The film, Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, is parable about gaining faith. It helps us answer a question people sometimes ask surreptitiously: “What if I don’t feel God anymore?”

  • What if I feel like a mundane Christian destined for mediocrity?
  • What if what excited me doesn’t anymore?
  • What if I am trying to feel God and it is not working?
Emily Blunt, Ewan McGregor and you’ll see a young Kristen Scott Thomas, too.

Ewan McGregor’s development parable

Ewan McGregor has similar questions in his lovely movie.

In the film, McGregor plays a surly bureaucrat from the fish and game department who is unsatisfied with his life and his wife, and is emotionally cut off from his colleagues. But things begin to transform when his life is invaded by a charismatic, visionary sheik and the sheik’s wealth-managing, sexy assistant. For one thing, Ewan’s love of salmon fishing ends up being a metaphor for his own change.

The movie is a strange story about believing the impossible. The sheik wants salmon to thrive and reproduce in the Yemeni desert. At one crucial point, they have created a lake and a fish ladder and they have stocked the lake with farm-bred salmon (because the wild fish were too precious for enthusiasts to part with). The farm-bred fish are like Ewan McGregor: staid and stuck in a holding tank. Ewan has sat in his cubicle for a long time not really doing anything. Likewise, he has sat in his depressing marriage not having children and not really making love. The question about these farm-bred salmon is: Will they swim upstream, as salmon instinctively must do to reproduce?

As with all good parables, you are already asking the question: “Will I?” What about my development?

Everyone tensely watches from the dam, afraid their huge, wild experiment will be  a bust. But right when they are ready to give up, one salmon leaps out of the water. Soon all of them are turning around and getting up the ladder and up the stream. Excitement ensues.

But then something horrible happens. Just like Ewan experienced in the middle of his new project when his wife decided to leave him, some person who thinks the sheik is a liberal threat to Yemeni culture blows up the dam! Most of the fish are left high and dry. Just a little creek is left of the water project. They are sure all is lost. Ewan does not know what to do. But as he despondently looks over the project, one lone, surviving fish leaps in the air. They are not all dead!

Many of their expectations died, but something new hung on. Their previous idea for the water project was still in pieces, but a new and better result sprang up from the ruins of their work.

Here’s the meaning of the parable for people who don’t feel very good about where their life is going. Ewan felt like a dried up scientist destined for the mundane. He tried something new and it didn’t work just right and he did not know what to do. Something unexpected took place as a result of him taking some initiative. He endured the loss of what was and entered into what is next.

If you don’t feel God and you would like to, that is probably what is happening to you.

First of all, no one can really answer the questions, “What if I don’t feel God anymore?” because you are precious you. One size does not fit all when it comes to faith.

Second of all, I have some ideas about what might be going on. Don’t give up!

1)  Your childhood faith might be wearing out. It usually needs to move from head to heart.

I use the running the bases chart to talk about how we know God. It implies that we are always developing. Developing is a good thing, even though it includes feeling the uncertainty of moving further and the loss of standing safely on a base. The “game” is ongoing.

A lot of Christians only get to first base when it comes to understanding God. They have kind of a teenager faith. Many people come to faith when they are teenagers and they never get much farther than their original understanding. If you don’t experience the presence of God, maybe God  kept moving and you stayed on first base!

Old feelings pass away, but deeper feelings are in store. Spiritual “feelings” that are deeper than the reactions we learned in childhood are being developed in our much larger and deeper new eternal family.

2) You are going through a change of season and you need some new disciplines.

Think about just sticking with the basics of a “first base” faith in Jesus: knowing the Bible. Getting the gist of the Bible is no small thing, really. It is quite a feat to achieve a basic understanding of what Jesus is talking about, much more to feel secure about the way you are going to do the word.  It takes a lot of concentration to just get started. It might be tempting to stay on the first base of faith, or the second, or wherever you are, even though that season of development is over.

In the case of reading the Bible, spiritual development can’t stay at the level of merely understanding concepts. For one thing, the Bible leads us to the basic disciplines of meditation and prayer — those are not concepts, they are experiences. From reading the Bible we gain a collection of basic approaches to laying a personal, spiritual foundation that must accompany our reading. Meditating on the Bible saturates us with the truth and love that is revealed. We’re not just reading the words, we are responding to God and forming our relationship.

If that relationship does not keep changing and growing, something is stuck. In a new season we are called to run the bases at a deeper level. Our original idea of what they meant, as good as it might have been, turns out to have something deeper behind it.

3) You are experiencing psychological development

In our relationships with God we are always working on basic trust. We develop in the Spirit a lot like children develop in their families. Rather than milk we need solid food. Eventually, we need to develop agency. Then we have to endure losses and become adults. “What doesn’t kill us helps us grow,” it is said, and that is mostly true.

If you are wondering why you don’t feel God, it could be depression or anxiety talking. These symptoms are often “friends” that alert us to deeper things happening in our souls. They may not feel like friends, but they are often the signposts leading toward change. The uncomfortable feelings we often prefer to avoid are actually important to our spiritual development. The destruction of dams we thought should never be blown up often results in something better than we ever could have predicted.

Close relationships and young marriages often go through a lot of anger and hurt as the partners push one another to develop. When children are added to a family they push people further down the road. Losing one’s job or losing a loved one calls us to become deeper, to trust God. We need to listen to our anger, listen to the sadness and other feelings behind it and find out what it developing. Let’s not merely fight, flee, freeze or fawn in a self-defeating way, or our typical way, or the old way. Jesus is a new way.

Thinking over a parable, reading this blog post, relating to what is said, trying to stay open to God (even if you think your relationship is in a holding tank that feels less than fresh), are all ways to start moving in a new direction. You have spiritual instincts that are always ready to kick in. Let them leap.

Aidan’s example

A life in the Spirit, Poetry, Spiritual direction

My “psalm” on Aidan Day last Sunday. 

Maybe it was on this day in the 600’s
that Aidan gave King Oswin’s gift-horse
to the peasant he passed.

Maybe the peasant had seen the holy man
coming at a distance, filled with the mystery
of the Holy Island.

Then the mystery dismounted his horse.
I see him silently give over the reins
with a gentle nod and smile.

Later the king fumed and blustered,
and wondered why his horse was wasted
on some poor nobody.

Aidan stood unbowed and undeterred,
“Is God’s beloved of less value than your horse?”
The king bowed, deterred.

We walked on the trail and reminisced
about the simplicity that captured us early on,
and saved us from many kings.

We also got off a few horses to accompany
poor souls who did not amount to much
or warrant stories.

Even Aidan, who made it into Bede’s book,
and is named on Lindisfarne to this day
is an untold tale,

lost in the smorgasbord of media,
digested in a glut of engorged data,
a footnote perhaps.

Yet I am heartened he is no hero,
not a billboard or line of merchandise,
just someone to meet,

just someone on the road who gets down
and is just a person who knows you,
who cares to see,

who cares little for kings and horses
and knows very little about what is right
except to be in Christ.

*****
Today is Peter Claver Day! Honor his devotion at The Transhistorical Body. 

Recognizing DARVO is the first step to freedom: 5 practical responses

A life in the Spirit, Film/TV, Psychological growth, , , , ,

Spend 30 seconds right now memorizing the words DARVO stands for: Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender. DARVO is the abuse pattern emerging from the shadows of rape culture and becoming mainstream behavior. The pattern is not new, but it is now prevalent. (Think Brett Kavanaugh and Dr. Ford before the Senate). It goes like this:

  • Deny:

The perpetrator of abuse denies or minimizes their harmful behavior, even if evidence exists. They may deny the behavior altogether or create an alternative narrative to explain it away.

  • Attack:

The perpetrator attacks the person who confronted them, attempts to discredit their claims or motivations. They may personally attack them, question their mental state, or suggest they are seeking attention.

  • Reverse Victim and Offender:

The perpetrator flips the story. They show themselves to be the victim and the accuser the aggressor. They will likely blame the accuser for provoking them or make them feel guilty for causing trouble.

The key to not becoming a victim of DARVO is to recognize when it is happening and refuse to cave in. These days, we all need to become experts, since it has become pervasive with the ascension of Donald Trump and JD Vance who employ it habitually. Most government communication is laced with DARVO these days (watch Karoline Leavitt). You can see the pattern most clearly whenever the government is accused of wrongdoing. No matter how far-fetched the logic, DARVO will be employed.

Perry and Celeste in Big Little Lies

Jennifer Freyd coined the phrase DARVO

Psychologist Jennifer Freyd  used DARVO to describe a common pattern “when an actually guilty perpetrator assumes the role of ‘falsely accused’ and attacks the accuser’s credibility and blames the accuser of being the perpetrator of a false accusation.”

Dr. Freyd coined the term in the 1990’s. She said the idea grew from watching “the [confirmation] hearings for Clarence Thomas and the response to Anita Hill.”  Hill is the law professor who in 1991 said the Supreme Court nominee sexually harassed her, only to see her own reputation dragged through the mud.

“Clarence Thomas had a leadership role” in the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission,” Freyd said.

“So it seemed to me like if there’s anyone who would have had a different response to the accusation, it was him. He would have said something like, ‘My memory is very different than yours; I’m disturbed to hear this is how you experienced things. I know these are very difficult conversations to have, and I want to understand what leads you to say this.’ But instead he and the other people who enabled him, it was a gang that attacked Anita Hill … and then I was seeing [the behavior] all over.”

Thank God most of us won’t be on TV getting raked over the coals! But you may have been an “accuser” who ended up being accused sometime in your life. For you, maybe DARVO  sounded like this:

“Why are you always trying to make me the bad guy?”
“I never hit you. I just pushed you away when you were being dramatic.”
“You’re so sensitive. It’s like I can’t do anything right around you.”
“You’re making me feel so bad. I don’t even want to talk to you anymore.”
“You’re abusing me, too.”

This kind of abuse chips away at your sense of reality over time. Many victims of it question whether what they experienced was real. And many turn the blame on themselves –which is exactly the goal of the person reversing the offense.

Now it is REALLY all over

Like I said, Trump and his comrades use the tactic reflexively. Some of the examples have become famous. We watch men, for the most part, get away with blame shifting like sexual abusers have been convincing their victims they are to blame for centuries.

Trump employed DARVO when he blamed Ukraine for Russia’s invasion, didn’t he?

Trump said about Zelensky: “You’ve been there for three years. You should have ended it. … You should have never started it. You could have made a deal.”

Most people know Russia’s army crossed the border on Feb. 24, 2022, in an all-out invasion that Putin sought to justify by falsely saying it was needed to protect Russian-speaking civilians in eastern Ukraine and prevent the country from joining NATO.

D —  Russia did not illegally and unjustly invade. A — You should have ended it. You could have made a deal. RVO – Russia is really the victim here. Ukraine is wasting U.S. money,

Trump has famously discredited women who had accused him of sexual assault.

Just before his Presidential debate with Kamala Harris he spoke to reporters about the first verdict E. Jean Carroll won against him for rape. He was in court to hear his lawyers argue for overturning a jury’s $5 million verdict. The former president  repeatedly implied he would not have assaulted two of his accusers (from the past) due to their looks. He said of a woman who has accused him of sexual misconduct on a plane in the 1970s “she would not have been the chosen one.” He said of  Carroll, “I never touched her. I would have had no interest in meeting her in any way, shape or form.”

At the point he said those things, juries had twice awarded Carroll huge sums from Trump for defamation because he claimed she made up a story about him attacking her in a department store dressing room in order to boost sales of her memoir. The judgments did not stop him. Just before the debate, he again said that Carroll was telling a “made up, fabricated story.”

D – “I never touched her. I would have had no interest in meeting her in any way, shape or form.”  A – She’s a liar. Besides, “she would not have been the chosen one.” RVO – She made it up to use my fame to boost her memoir. She wants to take me down. I’m the victim.

J.D. Vance contribute to the confusion people have about what is fake and what could be true.

After the outcry over Trump falsely claiming that Haitians were eating pets in Springfield, Ohio, Dana Bash asked Vance, formerly a Senator from Ohio, “Once and for all, can you affirmatively say that the rumors about Haitians eating dogs and cats have no basis with evidence?”

Vance said, “If I have to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

D – He would not respond to the question. It is the American people, not Haitians who are suffering. A – The media, like you Dana Bash, are not doing a good job. RVO – I have to create stories. The media does not respond to what I say. I’m the victim.

DARVO appears in quite a few scripts, too

In Big Little Lies every time Celeste calls out Perry’s violence, he flips it. First, he denies hurting her. Then, he accuses her of provoking him. Finally, he becomes the one who’s suffering – “I’m only like this because I love you so much.” It’s textbook DARVO.

In You,  Joe consistently manipulates women into believing he’s just a misunderstood romantic, even as his behavior becomes controlling and violent. He denies, attacks, reframes, over and over again.

You may have experienced some DARVO in your own house (or applied it). For instance, when a partner cheats, gets caught, and they might say, “You’ve been so cold lately, what did you expect?” Or when you confront a friend about a boundary they’ve crossed, they might respond with, “Wow, I guess I’m just a terrible person then.” Suddenly, you’re the one doing damage control, even though they hurt you.

DARVO can be defanged.

If you’ve experienced DARVO, you know how disorienting it is. Why? Because it’s not just a lie—it’s a reversal of truth. It puts you on the defensive. You begin questioning your memory, your motives, even your sanity. I was DARVOed in a big way a few years back and I felt that way myself; I am more aware now.

DARVO often overlaps with gaslighting, intensifying the psychological damage. Both aim to erase your reality. But DARVO goes further: it tries to make you feel morally wrong for even speaking up.

That’s why so many women in emotionally destructive relationships stay silent. They know what happened, but they can’t explain it in a way others will understand—especially when the abuser is charming, respected, or skilled at playing the victim (or might be a sociopath).

Numerous clients have validated that, over time, experiencing DARVO repeatedly leads to:

  • Self-doubt: “Maybe I am too sensitive.”
  • Isolation: “No one will believe me.”
  • Shame: “Why can’t I just let it go?”
  • Despair: “I’ll never be safe or heard.”

These effects are real. DARVO not only blocks accountability — it compounds the trauma of the original harm. It damages your trust in your own perceptions and can even alienate you from your community or church, especially if others are drawn into the reversal or support your abuser.

Being informed about DARVO can reduce its persuasive effects.  In other words, people who can spot DARVO are less likely to fall for it. Knowledge can act as a vaccine.

The next step is refusing to let it rewrite reality. Trump’s attempts to deflect responsibility and blame for the results of his tariffs are not just political maneuvers. They are calculated efforts to distract and confuse you. By exposing DARVO for what it is, we can ensure that his gaslighting does not win out over the truth.

Five ways to respond to DARVO

When you begin to recognize DARVO, you gain power. You may not be able to change the other person, but you can refuse to internalize their twisted version of events. Try these things:

Name it without shame.

Recognize that DARVO is someone else’s behavior, a tactic of self-defense and domination – it is not a reflection of your character. You are not “too sensitive” for noticing harm. You are not the problem because you “set some boundaries.” Naming the pattern is the first step toward clarity. “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them” (Ephesians 5:11).

Stay grounded in reality.

You could keep a journal of what happened and when. If possible, seek out a wise, safe counselor or support group that affirms your experience. You may also consider working with a therapist who understands emotional abuse. Truth-telling without malice is not gossip. It’s part of healing and it’s how we stay aligned with God.

Resist the urge to over-explain.

DARVO thrives when you start defending yourself. But you don’t owe a manipulator your constant justification. “No” is a complete sentence. “That’s not true” is a legitimate response. Jesus often refused to debate with those who had no intention of listening. You can do the same.

Define your limits without guilt.

It is godly to protect your heart (Proverbs 4:23). You are not responsible for managing another adult’s emotions, especially when they attempt to use those emotions to control you. Whether it’s a temporary separation, a clear boundary around communication, or removing yourself from a toxic church, these are not acts of rebellion — they are acts of obedience to your own healing and to God.

For the Church: Please recognizing and resist DARVO.

Too often, leaders and Christian communities are unwittingly complicit with DARVO. If the church automatically “stays neutral” or encourages the victim to reconcile before repentance, it reinforces the reversal and deepens the harm. Neutrality in the face of abuse is not peacekeeping—it’s injustice. Accountability is not unloving. Grace is not enabling. The church must be a place of truth-telling, not image management.

When someone speaks up about abuse or betrayal, our first response should not be, “Are you sure?” or “Let’s not judge.” Instead:

  • We ask them, “How can I listen and support you?” and “What do you need right now to feel heard, believed, and protected?
  • We ask ourselves, “What does justice and healing look like here?” and “How can we hold leadership or offenders accountable in truth?”

You’re not crazy, and you’re not alone

Maybe reading this caused you to recognize DARVO in your life. You may be the perpetrator or you may be the victim. You are not alone. If you are to blame, you can be healed and forgiven. If you have been abused, you are not likely to be imagining it.

If you have been abused, please don’t forget:

  • Your voice matters to God.
  • Your safety and your capacity to say “No” and be heard matters.
  • Your healing matters.

You do not have to prove your worth to someone who constantly rewrites your story to protect themselves and manipulate you. God is your witness and is the One who sees it all and stands with the oppressed and the voiceless. “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18) — even when you feel alone. Wisdom, courage, and the strength to stand are all available to you, too.

If you are a married couple and you practice DARVO on each other because you learned it from TV or the internet, please find some hope in the fact there are other ways to relate and you can learn them. You’ll have to let go of DARVO and very possibly will need to find someone to help you learn some new ways to love. But you can make things better.

In the move

A life in the Spirit, Poetry,

 

 

 

 

 

I am eating salad.
The cat,
the cat finds a way,
finds a way to knock the Tibetan bell,
the singing bowl, off the shelf.

I put down my fork.
I feed,
feed the next disaster,
the thing that needs fixing or finding
so the next problem can happen.

I gnaw a new problem.
The garage,
the garage door won’t close;
the door thinks it’s squashing a baby,
not landing on a vintage slab.

I know vintage.
The turn,
the turn is one thing I learned:
any move needs time for moving,
time to turn toward eternity.

I eat in an eternal now.
The right now,
now is for feeding on the future,
the future-present ordering of your love,
a whisper away in this breath.

Born again and again: Alan Jones and Anne Sexton guide us

A life in the Spirit, Poetry, Psychological growth, Spiritual direction, , , , ,
From the Grace Cathedral Instagram page advertising their solstice concert.

Alan Jones was Dean of Grace Cathedral from 1985-2009. He died last year at 84. In his obituary from the church the present dean wrote:

For nearly a quarter of a century, Alan served as Dean of Grace Cathedral. He was one of the most powerful preachers of his generation and helped make the cathedral one of the global centers of Christianity. During his tenure, we constructed Chapter House, the Great Steps, and our parking garage. With Lauren Artress, Alan helped to make walking the labyrinth into a religious practice observed by millions of people. Alan inaugurated our Forum series and represented the cathedral admirably in the community.

His legacy is better represented in his books. One has become a spiritual classic: Passion for Pilgrimage: Notes for the Journey Home (1989). One of the aspects of the book which impressed me most was the amazing depth of reading he displays! I often pass over quotes in a book as if they did not come from somewhere. But the people Jones knew or knew about intrigued me so much I began to look into their lives, as well.

In 2021 I peeled back the cover of Jones’ work for my church and highlighted a few of the people he referenced. As Jones listened to each of them, he was also attuned to the Holy Spirit at work in them and told us what he heard. They all demonstrated different ways we die and rise along our pilgrimage home. That’s the theme of his book: “God has fallen in love with you and wants you to come home.”

Anne Sexton

One of the people I highlighted was Anne Sexton.

Anne Sexton

I did not know a lot about this poet, apart from some of her poems, until Jones drew me into relationship with her. Her life is a tortuous story of mental illness and award-winning creation. Although she died in her forties by suicide, the depth of her work still moves us and teaches us. If you are chronically depressed, she speaks your language beautifully. The Poetry Foundation has a nice biography and a selection of works.

Jones  draws us to meditate with Anne Sexton as she moves through one of her own last meditations on “eating the Bread” in John 6:

Jesus said to them, “I tell you the solemn truth, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in yourselves. The one who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise [them] up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. The one who eats my flesh and drinks my blood resides in me, and I in [them]. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so the one who consumes me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven; it is not like the bread your ancestors ate, but then later died. The one who eats this bread will live forever.” – John 6:53-8 NET

Uncomfortable in faith might be normal

Anne Sexton never got to a comfortable faith, but she wrote about it a lot. And she had a long correspondence with a “monk,” right up to the point where she sent off her last work:  The Awful Rowing toward God. Once it was sent, she put on her mother’s old mink coat, went to the garage, started the car and made the exhaust that killed her at age 45. One poem in her last self-collected book was titled after one of Soren Kierkegaard’s works which you can read here:

The Sickness Unto Death

God went out of me
as if the sea dried up like sandpaper,
as if the sun became a latrine.
God went out of my fingers.
They became stone.
My body became a side of mutton
and despair roamed the slaughterhouse.

Someone brought me oranges in my despair
but I could not eat a one
for God was in that orange.
I could not touch what did not belong to me.
The priest came,
he said God was even in Hitler.
I did not believe him
for if God were in Hitler
then God would be in me.
I did not hear the bird sounds.
They had left.
I did not see the speechless clouds,
I saw only the little white dish of my faith
breaking in the crater.
I kept saying:
I’ve got to have something to hold on to.
People gave me Bibles, crucifixes,
a yellow daisy,
but I could not touch them,
I who was a house full of bowel movement,
I who was a defaced altar,
I who wanted to crawl toward God
could not move nor eat bread.

So I ate myself,
bite by bite,
and the tears washed me,
wave after cowardly wave,
swallowing canker after canker
and Jesus stood over me looking down
and He laughed to find me gone,
and put His mouth to mine
and gave me His air.

My kindred, my brother, I said
and gave the yellow daisy
to the crazy woman in the next bed.

Her last book was dedicated to the monk. Sexton drafted her final book in two and half weeks during January of 1973. Two of those days were spent in a mental hospital, where she spoke with a priest. She told him she wasn’t sure if she believed in God. “I can’t go to church,” she said. “I can’t pray.” She wished to take communion but knew that she could not. She feared formal conversion: “It would ruin, it would formulate, my thinking: I’d want Him to be my God, anyway. I don’t want to be taught about Him; I want to make him up.”

The priest read Sexton’s drafts aloud to her. “Your typewriter is your altar,” he said.

Meditations from Alan Jones

What follows is Alan Jones meditating with Anne Sexton and giving us all a chance to do our dying and rising. All last week I ran into people who can’t help but think the whole country is dying and about to rise again. I thank God for people who can carry others who are sunk in depression. Enjoy Jones.

“Ironically, the Virgin Birth was insisted upon in the early years because there were those who said that Jesus wasn’t really human. He was some heavenly being. Mary was the guarantee that Jesus was really one of us. This crude insistence on the material is emphasized in the Gospel [as in the quote from John above]…

Think for a moment of Mary. She has just said Yes! To the baby, to the longed-for unknown. She contemplates the future stretching from her belly, and her own stretching by the child that will be born. It is a common experience for mothers. It is a metaphor that others in our culture need to appropriate – both men and women. Giving birth is an ordeal, and we, pregnant with God, are to give birth to a new understanding of ourselves. We are called to assist at our own birth. I know of no greater adventure. I know of no other way to describe it but as an ongoing drama of resurrection. The love letters never cease to amaze me.

George Emery, an old friend and expert in Christian mythology, sent us a Christmas poem not long ago about Mary as a sign and promise of new life breaking out in us.

To understand ordeals underground
Following the footsteps of the Lord
Into our own identity
Is difficult. As a new baby
Finds his mother to be another,
And she is a new person,
Mary saw God in her son,
Beholds him still for us
Both there and on the cross.

This describes our inner pilgrimage. It is an underground ordeal into the mystery of who we are. Through the agency of others we become new persons. Anne Sexton contributed to the bundle of love letters when she wrote,

Oh, Mary
Gentle Mother,
open the door and let me in.
A bee has stung your belly with faith.
Let me float in it like a fish.
Let me in! Let me in!
I have been born many times, a false Messiah;
but let me be born again
into something true. (From The Awful Rowing Toward God)

We follow the footsteps of our Lord into our own identity…to be born again and again and again. What freedom there is in my not having to be my own messiah!”

Eat the Bread of Life Instead: Memorial Day Psalm

A life in the Spirit, Poetry, , ,
June 14: Click the picture to access an interactive map

When the houselights came up and people did not chat,
…..when they jumped on their phones to occupy themselves
…..lest they be undistracted too long,
When curbs to a federal judge’s power to hold someone in contempt
…..were stealthily added to the bad billionaire budget,
When I went to the protest with all those grey heads
…..and noticed my black neighbors were checked out of the fight
…..and the man I love like a son refused to listen to news anymore,
When Stephen Miller gave the word to bomb Houthi civilians
…..and Pete Hegseth concocted a way to get Trump his Qatari jet,
When Israel decided to colonize the spit of land
…..the Gazans they are starving call home,
When Kivu, both Sudans, Somalia, Kashmir, Ukraine
…..frothed in the sea as mountains fell, and five years after George Floyd,
…..police kill more people than ever, and Kristi Noem is someone,
When my list went on,
I was tempted Lord.
Memorial Day was a bitter taste in my mouth.

But when I turned to you, I remembered wonder:
Remembered anxious people reaching out to yesterday’s rainbow like a life raft,
Remembered over 1000 events planned to counter Trump’s vanity parade —
…..the “Tanks-Rut-on-Constitution-Ave. Day,”
Remembered concerts of talented children making end-of-year music,
…..Remembered Bruce Springsteen taking the hits with his hits for us,
Remembered new neighbors checking to see if we need anything,
…..Remembered the dogged kindness of the people in my church,
…..Remembered how we somehow got a new cat who kisses,
Remembered that affliction breeds endurance which breeds character
…..which still breeds hope, born again.
It is hard to stay bitter in May.

God help me, I felt Memorial Day possibilities
…..despite the day’s repulsive hypocrisy —
…..business people wading into the ocean down the shore
…..in their Odunde-like appeasement to capitalist gods.
But, God help me, some old men said we were born for a time like this.

Don’t give up America.
…..People bled for your best ideas.
Don’t give up church.
…..People are looking for you right now.
Don’t give up leaders.
…..Your good intentions are enzymes in the body politic.
Don’t give up high school grads, college grads, music students.
…..A.I. avoiders and creators,
…..inheritors of a warming earth,
…..first victims of the billionaire world order.
Please make something better.

Yes. Exceptionalism is an illusion.
Yes. America-the-better won’t save you.
Yes. The whole thing is a grift right now.
Yes. Memorial Day is a celebration of power not love —
…..at least not the love of bread, wine and miracle.
But very few are listening for America or God,
…..just yet.
No one sacrificed for Donald Trump in Germany,
…..or would.
So yes. You’re right.
But remember Jesus, beloved country.
…..Turn into visions of born-again better.
When you’re tempted to feed your list to the phone
…..eat the Bread of Life instead.

The One Tree

A life in the Spirit, Poetry, Spiritual direction, , , , ,

One of the words I kept hearing at the CAPS Conference this past week was “presence.” The message I took away was: “In the middle of Trump turmoil, stay present to God.” Like anxious clients need to hear, “Feel your feet on the ground and sense the air moving in and out of your body as you breathe deeply.” In doing so, we return to our awareness of our life in Christ and rest in the presence of God.

Returning

If you are anything like me, most days I get “messed up.” People and situations disturb my equilibrium, and my capacity to think and feel are an invitation to be disrupted from the inside, too, even if I stay holed-up in my house.  I need to get up every morning and turn into my source of life.

Psalm 65 is a useful tool for returning. I meditate with it using three long, slow, deep breaths, one for each stanza:

You answer us with awesome and righteous deeds,
    God our Savior,
the hope of all the ends of the earth
    and of the farthest seas,

who formed the mountains by your power,
    having armed yourself with strength,
who stilled the roaring of the seas,
    the roaring of their waves,
    and the turmoil of the nations.

The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders;
    where morning dawns, where evening fades,
    you call forth songs of joy.

After three sets of three breaths, I think anyone might be more able to face the day.

Now is the time

The springtime of Lent is a perfect time to turn.

The other day I wrote my own psalm like Psalm 65 but in my own time and my own place. I did not write it in the name of great art. But you might relate to it and find it useful for your own process. The Lord stills the “turmoil of the nations.” Yesterday, I was stilled by the dawning of creation on the leafing trees outside my window. In the middle of my mess, God called forth “songs of joy.”

Lord,
there is that one tree —
just the top of it I see
through the legs of my desk
as I look toward the sky,
in the Spring morning looking,
looking for light, looking
to see if the chilling wind I fear
is moving in the tallest branches
and locking me in some defensive coat
as I venture out into the sun
after a chilly winter, one chilled
with trouble and the grief
of letting go and letting in.

As I start to write, the tree,
that signal tree, roots me
yet reaches into uncertainty.
We’re completely still.
Serene. Blessed. Surprised
by the joy of the morning.
Nestled. Snug with the other trees
blessing the park with their community,
a home for us wanderers longing to rest.

Now, as I turn my head and heart,
I see the faintest touch of breezing start.
Breeze winds its way through the tallest twigs,
teasing the huddling branches apart.
My tree raises hands and gently claps
in the rhythm of creation as old as time,
in the glow of day breaking with new unknowns,
assured, as one who knows Spring personally
and feels rain like friendship.

In the chill, I would have huddled
in reassurance, longing to cuddle
some wished-for insurance
against the cold, some imminent gale.
But the season has lifted.
My roots tingle with the whispering
of ancient voices tendriling in the park
with a message as fresh as Mystery.

Your love is a hard truth and scary,
and a beam of sunlit hope to carry,
hope gently pushing me like what launched
the tuft of spring’s first dandelion,
a seed launched into the way of brother wind,
now looking for a place to root and bloom
at the foot of our wizened Oak
in the freshness of a Spirit-blown day.

You might want to hear me read it here. 

******************

Today is Oscar Romero Day! If you want to know how to respond to authoritarian regimes, he’s your spiritual guide. Commune with him at The Transhistorical Body. 

Trump’s admin is a replay of Belshazzar’s feast of the billionaires

A life in the Spirit, Film/TV, Spiritual direction, The Mission, , , , , ,

The feast of the billionaires is playing on our screens day after day. It is an age-old story:

King Belshazzar gave a great banquet for a thousand of his nobles and drank wine with them.  While Belshazzar was drinking his wine, he gave orders to bring in the gold and silver goblets that his father, Nebuchadnezzar, had taken from the temple in Jerusalem, so that the king and his nobles, his wives and his concubines might drink from them. So they brought in the gold goblets that had been taken from the temple of God in Jerusalem, and the king and his nobles, his wives and his concubines drank from them. As they drank the wine, they praised the gods of gold and silver, of bronze, iron, wood and stone. (Daniel 5:1-4)

Didn’t we just have a present-day version of Belshazzar’s feast playing out in the TV series Billions for seven(!) seasons? I think so. I watched quite a few sordid episodes, myself.

One of the series creators, Brian Koppelman, talked to the Hollywood Reporter about the series finale in 2023. The interviewer wondered if the ending were not a strangely happy one for such a dark story. While the main character took a real hit, most of the players ended up a lot richer. Koppelman explained:

Any director, any actor, writer, any cinematographer and editor. We would always say: The thing you need to understand about these people is they only feel alive, or the most alive, when they’re engaged in battles that to them feel existential and very difficult. So it’s funny, that when you say “happy,” I understand what you mean by “happy,” in that it’s not tragic. But if you think about it, Bobby Axelrod ends at a table, and all he’s really learned, after all the time he’s been behind his desk, as he looks at the hungry faces of the pigeons that want to get fed, he says, “Let’s make some fucking money.”

Bobby has no doubt he can make it all back. It is what he does. Don’t you suspect that same story, with the same assumption, is being played out in the U.S. government’s executive branch right now? For example, Elon Musk, the richest guy in the world, now mucking around in our data — if he loses 100 billion in the pursuit of absolute power, don’t you think he assumes he can make it back? It is what he does.

While there are undoubtedly some ideologues in our government presently, and some religious people, too, it is mostly a feast of the billionaires we are witnessing. They were hungry to get to the table and do something, to engage in a battle that feels existential and very difficult. They yearn to have a battle.  They have “praised the gods of gold and silver, of bronze, iron, wood and stone” which are the money-making machines of their own design. But their gods demand more and they demand more and more of their gods. It’s an old story.

But the handwriting is on the wall

You know you’ve told a good story when the most dramatic part becomes iconic. Like Rhett saying, “Frankly my darling, I don’t give a damn.” Or Captain Kirk saying “Beam me up Scotty” (which he never actually said, exactly). Or, in my house, the Wicked Witch saying, “What a world! What a world!” In the story of Belshazzar and Daniel, which is full of iconic images, a main one is this strange hand:

Suddenly the fingers of a human hand appeared and wrote on the plaster of the wall, near the lampstand in the royal palace. The king watched the hand as it wrote. His face turned pale and he was so frightened that his legs became weak and his knees were knocking. (Daniel 5:5-6)

The hand wrote the notice of their impending demise. And it was a disembodied hand!! Terrifying in every way. But I think we have to admit that the men at the U.S. billionaires feast might ignore a human hand writing on a wall. They are drenched in A.I. after all, and own it. And they are surrounded by deceivers, so their senses are probably a bit blunted. They are also, generally, bullies, so they are used to making someone’s knees knock.

I think they will need something else to get the message of their inevitable doom. I hope what they get is about 50 million human feet on the streets and 100 million boycotters to relentlessly deliver it. We really need that to happen before there are a thousand dead children, millions of lost jobs and a world thrown into meltdown because of Donald Trump, Elon Musk and their minions.

No one can read it.

The way Christians and most people use the phrase: “the handwriting is on the wall,” is to lament how someone got the word, how the truth was out there for anyone to see, how the circumstances were telling them the obvious, but they could not read it. The language of truth was foreign to them. Or as Jesus might say, “They did not have eyes to see.”

My parents would use the phrase to predict dire things to come. They would see me acting out and warn, “It this keeps up…Well, the handwriting’s on the wall.” I think that’s a direct quote. I did not know what was coming, and their dire warning did make my knees knocked a few times. “We’re not stupid, but you might be,” was the gist.

Belshazzar summons his “enchanters, astrologers and diviners” (Daniel 5:7-8) to figure out the mysterious message the hand has written. None of them can figure it out. Trump summons Steve Bannon, Paula White, the latest far right TV media personality or whoever wrote Project 2025 and none of them can read the handwriting on the wall.

In our case, our feast of billionaires (maybe that is what one calls a herd of them) not only don’t procure eyes to see, they famously “double down” on their lies, and use more of the invisible ink they use to write their contracts. After Trump got skewered for saying he could imagine Gaza as another Riviera he posted this video on Truth Social:

His doubling down on lies was countered by SNL:

It will end badly for the billionaires

Belshazzar’s wife hears about what is going on and reminds him there is an actual wise man in the empire who interpreted a dream for his dad. They go find Daniel and the king tells the seer what is going on.

Daniel finds it easy to tell him the truth. First he tells him the story of his father, who did evil and did not follow God and ended up like an insensible animal eating grass out in the rain. He frankly tells Belshazzar he hasn’t learned a thing from his father’s fate and is presently repeating his folly.

My father, Goldwater conservative that he was, would be a Daniel if he went to  the present billionaires party. I’m sure he would be able to read the handwriting on the wall. He would have said, “Americans overthrew their king to begin with, and then we beat Hitler, Hirohito, and every other tyrant we faced 80 years ago in the war.” Daniel was confrontive like that:

But you, Belshazzar, his son, have not humbled yourself, though you knew all this. Instead, you have set yourself up against the Lord of heaven. You had the goblets from his temple brought to you, and you and your nobles, your wives and your concubines drank wine from them. You praised the gods of silver and gold, of bronze, iron, wood and stone, which cannot see or hear or understand. But you did not honor the God who holds in his hand your life and all your ways. Therefore he sent the hand that wrote the inscription.

“This is the inscription that was written: mene, mene, tekel, parsin (numbered, numbered, weighted, divided in Aramaic)

“Here is what these words mean:

Mene: God has numbered the days of your reign and brought it to an end.
Tekel: You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting.
Peres: Your kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and Persians.” (Daniel 5:22-28)

It used to be that stories about billionaires parties in the U.S. ended with the rich guys losing to scrappy people from the lower classes who rely on goodness. It’s a Wonderful Life comes to mind, of course (1946), and Elysium, back in in 2013. But one of the Oscar nominees this year, Anora (possibly the least redemptive movie I have ever seen) shows oligarch Russians successfully exercising absolute power, while a woman stuck in prostitution and a man forced to be a henchman are left with an ambivalent, barely flickering moment of hope.

Billionaires are looking normal these days. Everyone knows what an “oligarch” is. Right now, we are in the middle of a billionaires party and it seems plausible for Trump to be scheming to get Ukraine’s rare earth minerals for a song. It does not seem outrageous for Elon Musk to go to the first Cabinet meeting and then say he means to cut 4 billion dollars a day in government spending from now to September [link].

Some Christians are serving Trump like he has a divine right to rule. There was a prayer by the HUD Secretary, Scott Turner, at the Cabinet meeting the other day (Trump called it “grace”). But I am not sure who was meant to be the recipient. He was certainly praying from an imperial point of view in a way that would likely please the Emperor! He thanked God for the anointing they have to serve as the cabinet, among other things. I don’t think his sense of privilege is unusual. Unfortunately, I think a lot of Christians, especially in the U.S., read Daniel 5 from Belshazzar’s viewpoint like Secretary Turner probably does, not Daniel’s. They are Constantine-descended Christians exercising their Roman-Empire-infected, slaveholder religion. They pray, “Tell us, Lord. Who is going to get the kingdom; how will it be divided; shall I bet my  future on the Medes and Persians?”

There are always wise people

The funniest part of Daniel 5 is when Belshazzar tries to get Daniel to dress up and sit down at his ludicrous feast.

“I have heard that you are able to give interpretations and to solve difficult problems. If you can read this writing and tell me what it means, you will be clothed in purple and have a gold chain placed around your neck, and you will be made the third highest ruler in the kingdom.”

Then Daniel answered the king, “You may keep your gifts for yourself and give your rewards to someone else. Nevertheless, I will read the writing for the king and tell him what it means.” (Daniel 5:16-17).

“You can keep your gifts” is a good Philly response. Or maybe it is like Zelenskyy saying, “I’m not playing cards.”

Even in the dysfunctional, short-sighted kingdom of Belshazzar, there was a wise person available. I think God has people stationed all over the world who keep salting it with love and truth. I don’t think I can imagine what it would be like if they were not there.

Jesus followers read the Belshazzar story from Daniel’s viewpoint.

  • We’re not authoritarian. Although Daniel’s character, spirituality and compassion caused him to rise to a leadership position in the empire, he had no illusion that he was ultimately in charge. Creation belongs to God and we should get used to mystery. We’ve been bought with a price, saved by grace, welcomed into a joy that does not come by our own striving; it is a gift. We don’t earn our place in the world by following the latest usurper of God’s prerogatives. Jesus sits on the throne as a wounded lamb.
  • We read the handwriting on the wall. We develop the skills needed to exercise our spiritual awareness. We listen to God and don’t live squashed by an “immanent frame.” Ultimately, as freed people who live Spirit to spirit with God, the Body of Christ IS the handwriting on the wall.
  • We tell the truth, even if the powers-that-be might make us suffer. Belshazzar decked out Daniel in the finery he promised, even though he didn’t want it, and even though his interpretation was that the king was going to lose his empire. It appears Belshazzar not only could not read the handwriting, he could not hear the interpretation and expected the next day to be just like this one. It was something like Trump saying he won the election in 2020 and made telling that lie a prerequisite for receiving the privilege of following him into disaster. Or like Pilate publicly washing his hands, as if that would absolve him, as the blind crowd, led by blind guides, shouted “We have no king but Caesar.” In the face of such nonsense, even backed by violence, we can’t help telling it like we are — in Christ.

The feast of the billionaires is an age-old story, redundant. It would be boring if it were not so deadly. It is astounding that someone will go ahead and play it out again when history is replete with so many ways it does not work out well. The folly of the present cabal of oligarchs has only become more evident as they have emerged from their protective bubbles and into public view, feasting on the spoils of the American Empire, led by the loopy Elon Musk.

They can’t read the handwriting on the wall, even though the populace is already in the streets after only one month of official chicanery. It never ends well.  If you don’t believe the Bible is history, there are a lot of other books to tell you the story. But be sure of this, there will be wise people popping up from nowhere. The first protest I went to via 50501 was organized by two young women who had never organized a protest. The journalists who deserted their coopted news media are finding ways to create a new news media, which is very exciting [link] [link] [link]. Even Facebook is alive with examples of Daniels speaking up.

Let me emphasize the wise people emerging in the church as I close.  A lot of them may be slow to pop up, since their institutions are very old and riddled with corruption, poor leadership and a terrible reputation. Yet the inspiration of the Holy Spirit is hard to repress, just like Daniel demonstrated in the last days of the rapacious Babylonian Empire. Last week I was moved to be with a small group of mostly twentysomethings ready to start a new church within the walls of our Episcopal Church. They had little awareness of church planting, but they knew it was time. They want spiritual reality, authentic community, and a chance to make a difference. Doesn’t everyone? No amount of oppression ever thwarts that desire. And Jesus is among us to make it come to fruit.

*****************************

Yesterday (March 2) was John Wesley Day! Get some lessons from the relentless mouthpiece and organizer for the gospel. A true world changer.  Visit him at The Transhistorical Body. 

Epiphany Psalm

A life in the Spirit, Poetry
A woman much like this one has been my inspiration.

I looked at Christmastide
through my historical telescope:
a distant planet of revel
clouded with 13th century faith,
a faint tune from a long-past
collective unconsciousness,
a wisp of memory clinging to
moments of glittering hope
painted on a faded background.

My celebration turned, stretched,
lurched into the unrepeatable future.
Pondering whether to toss old journals
led to guilty, ambivalent listening
as they echoed down the trash chute.
Discovering an old speech from the past
led to a spiritual rehab.
But all the old poetry was saved as is:
hundreds of psalms sketched in moleskin
like Mechtilde esoterically
scratching for the Poetry Foundation.

I am at odds with the year again.
My Advent is just beginning:
as taxes come due, as we are on the road,
journeying to a new place, a new era,
waiting for a final shoe to drop,
dreading flaws in the makeover,
anticipating grief in the unknown.

I am still following the star
hoping a cradle is in my future.
But also sure I will meet a Herod,
or confront the inner intolerable,
living off some dead woman’s inspiration
or at least subject to her grandiosity.
I have come to so many mangers,
it is hard not to think the present star
is rather dim in comparison,
the myths of memory casting shade.
Waning and waiting go together now,
like John the Baptist finding his dream job
is officially over and all too brief.

But I suppose if I am the last person
longing for the next Epiphany,
strangely inspired by the wild 1200’s,
following some ineffable star,
that will have to be how it is.
Because it is, just as you are:
as inescapable as life and death,
as brilliant as you are dim and dimmed,
uncovered from the rubble of history,
obscured by the uncertain future,
and as bright as a New Year’s dawn.

 

[I recorded it, if you like  LINK]

Does God protect us? : The music sends a message

A life in the Spirit, Music, Spiritual direction, , , , , , ,

During my four years In college, I was in a choral practice every day, Monday through Friday. I think I loved every day — at least I do now, as I look back on it. I learned a lot about much more than music, but it is the music that keeps rising up to bless me.

On Friday, the music was there to meet me as soon as I woke up. I was startled awake because of a dream. I won’t tell you all of it, but the part that woke me up was about being on a straight road going very fast and then realizing I had fallen asleep. When I jolted awake, I did not know where I was. I eventually found out I had gone to Maryland in my dreams!

I know how this actually feels because I did fall asleep once when we were driving to San Francisco for the weekend from So Cal – back in the day when all-night things were pretty normal. I fell asleep at the wheel and woke up just as I was about to enter an overpass curving over a railroad track. I still remember the feeling of shock and terror, then relief.

I definitely felt protected by God in my dream and in my experience.

Does God protect us?

In my dream, though, I felt a bit ambivalent. Was I protected? Honestly, my unconscious was having an ongoing intellectual discussion just before I woke up.

But even before I opened my eyes, a song came to mind. It was a solo I sang in college. We performed Honegger’s King David, which is a rather difficult, not-too-melodic drama. I did not really get it. But my director often gave his ignorant protégé solos which were over his head and labored to help me perfect them. He had one good reason to deploy me: I actually felt what was behind the sacred music. We were in a secular setting and he was surrounded by music majors who cared more about Honegger’s technique than his motivation. I never got the technique that well —  my mentor had to mark my scores with endless instructions. But I did get the faith.

I realized years later that the little solo he gave me in King David was really half a solo. A new, older tenor had joined the choir who read music like I read the newspaper, and he wanted a solo in the piece. My director did not want to disappoint him, so he gave him the first half, which was more like an intro to my second half, which might be the most melodic measures in the whole work.

My one line was a soaring moment of assurance God gave David in his old age. Essentially, it was, “You’ll be OK even though Absalom has upended your kingdom.” Whether Psalm 121 is really about that, who knows? I didn’t even think about it. I just sang,

He will not suffer thy foot to be mov-ed,
for he is on high, watching above.
The Lord who is thy keeper neither slumbers nor sleeps.

That one line of music has stuck with me my entire adulthood. It pops up at just the right time, over and over.

To hear the pro sing it, you’ll have to scroll to section #21 “Psaume” at about 54:00

I’m not sure I can promise what you want

Again, and again in my life, especially when I feel threatened, that one line of Psalm 121 comes to me in a song. I’m thinking about it today, but I normally don’t. It just happens.

In my dream, God protected me. He kept me. God is my keeper, even in Maryland.

Intellectually, I would not defend that God can be relied on to keep me from flying off an overpass and into Bakersfield. But in my dream, I definitely felt God had protected me when I woke up in Maryland. I told God as we pondered together, “I don’t believe you constantly protect me,” because my experience tells me otherwise, and I cannot justify why God would not protect everyone who is abused by more than I have been. But I also said, “I do believe you watch over me and suffer with me,” since inexplicable grace happens and I feel God suffering with me and comforting me, heart, soul, mind and strength.

Practically, the fact is, I risk and imagine further risks almost every day under the assumption I am protected, that my future is in God’s hands. I prayed, “Your lack of slumber is the eternity in which I wake and sleep and defy death.” God being with me and me being with God is what is safe, not being kept unharmed. Escaping harm is exciting and comforting, too, but it is kind of the surface of things. One day I will, in fact, die. I will then only defy death because I am with God and God is with me. God will not keep me from the “harm” of dying. When I finally die, Jesus will take my hand and lead me into the fullness of eternity.

Feeling the confidence to live the risky life we all live is better than avoiding the troubles I fear. I think the world has so much trouble right now there will never be enough avoidance to deal with it!

But I can promise grace will happen

I have had the blessing of faith my whole life which has allowed me not to worry too much about my safety. But I have many clients, especially those who have been traumatized, who struggle every day with how God did not save them and how they can’t save themselves. They’ve flown off the bridge from which I was saved.

I can’t make a promise God will keep them, like the psalm appears to promise. (But let’s be clear, Absalom had already raped his father’s concubines in public, so David’s foot was mov-ed a lot!). Even so, I do have evidence that gives me hope that even the more damaged, distressed people can find security.

Grace happens all the time. It is as hard to explain as waking up just before you were going to fly over a guard rail. For instance, once a client had a vision in which a significant spiritual figure met them while they were meditating. The person saw themselves crouching in the dark, and the spiritual figure put a hand on their shoulder and said, “You are not a loser,” among other things. When I heard that, I did not reply with a therapeutic “That’s interesting.” I yelped with glee. I welcomed that extraordinary experience and was shocked at the same time. I saw it coming about as much as I expected to fall asleep at the wheel.

God comes to meet us all the time. Jesus knows we need the immediacy. We need the ongoing incarnation of his truth and love. He said, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” As sure as the angels instructed the shepherds, God watches over us.

Having trouble believing angels talk to shepherds? Look up in the air, more. Look beyond the limits you have imposed on the sky’s boundary. Help is on the way. If you don’t see it, it may already be here. At least I know God is here.