I am being all skittery about changing to the new google blogger. Darn all these ongoing innovations.
It's interesting times here. Trying to get a grip on the monster final paper due tomorrow. I also just realized we're supposed to go out for drinks when we hand it in, but I'm down the dregs of the bank account. Poop. I am working on fixing up my financial life so that I don't spend so much of my mental area chanting almostfridayalmostfridayalmostfridayalmostfridaaaaay... though I've been financially independent (oh, so very different from independently wealthy) for six or so years now, I still generally end the pay cycle with -3.98 plus -58.00 bank fees. Eeep! Enough! I need to work my way past my financial puberty and become some kind of fiscal grown-up. I'm also trying to tidy up some messes left behind with ancient unpaid medical and cell phone bills and other things that make for ugly credit. And trying to get one of those “build your credit” credit cards without a billion dollar annual fee. Yawn! Why am I still typing about this? I bore myself. Ick.
I went to my first business meeting at the "new" meeting (the one I've been attending for 18 months and living at for 12? Yes. That new meeting) It was pretty powerful and I've resolved to go more often. Several long-long term weighty attenders applied for membership this round, which made me feel like less of a waffler. Other people wait a long time to join, too! Nyah! Ahh, defensiveness.
The "thereness" of my spiritual life waxes and wanes with my moods. I am still battling chronic depression, but I'm well armed this time with therapist and other helpers. Okay, lots of unquakerly word choices there. But it gets the point across. A lot of the time it is a battle, with all the weariness and bloodiness the word implies, but hopefully, in the end, with a much more positive outcome. It is kind of depressing, how much energy it takes to be depressed. Or, rather, to try not to be depressed. Sometimes I think that if I didn’t have to spend most of my time managing my mood, I would make a million dollars and take over the world. Le sigh.
I've been spending a lot of time sinking into a search for the core of my spirituality…sort of plumbing the depths to see what’s in there, what’s solid. I am always sort of doing this, but recent events have driven me to a deeper, more methodical exploration. As usual, I’m not entirely sure what I am coming up with, but I am getting an idea.
Christmas was a very hard time. I was physically depleted by a violent attack of viral gastroenteritis that left me sniveling and shaking on the bathroom floor and delaying my flight to NC. There was also had a big emotional and spiritual purge that left me feeling similarly drained and shaky: my parents, who love me very much, informed me that any hypothetical Quaker wedding of mine with my dear, Queer friends invited will be unattended by the family.
Which, while still hypothetical, is really, really sad. It has been hard to work through the initial shock and grief into a better place of spiritual adulthood (not that I am there, yet.) It left me feeling a bit orphaned, though I know my family meant nothing of the kind. But I guess a line was finally drawn, a wall was finally raised, and in the end, I found myself standing outside.
It is a perplexing reality that my parents and I are standing on opposite sides of the same Bible verse:
Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me
and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.
with both parties feeling a little bit crucified. I cannot deny the truth I feel is revealed in my heart without being unfaithful to my revelation of Christ. My parents cannot deny the truth they feel is revealed by the Church without being unfaithful to their revelation of Christ. I can feel their pain because I'm sharing it, but through the looking-glass.
Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.
For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother...
What does this even mean? I've always struggled with this text, but unlike other trying verses, I've never been able to properly discard it. Obviously a loving God can gain no satisfaction from family strife. In a sanctified world, there would be none.
I know I am growing, in many ways, because of this separation, and I know that is good, and holy. But what a price.
And it is a separation. Even though we are still communicating with love, and still trying to be there for each other in all tenderness, there is a breach. There is a tear. There is a wound.
When the news hit, the first warning that my heart gave me was the extreme importance of not snapping up a martyr role. (Woe is me, as I suffer for my faith!) The second was to examine my soul and make certain that I was sure. Sure of what?
Of my conviction that I have found a true and fruitful spiritual home outside of the Catholic church, one which is founded on solid ground, no matter how fragile my day-to-day practice. Of my conviction that God blesses each and every relationship founded on openness, generosity, and deep love, that the fruits of love are holy, and that all true love is sacred in the eyes of God, without regard to exterior gender or preference.
And the answer is, I am sure.
I am ashamed, in a way, that it has taken me this long to post that. I have hidden much of my own declaration of faith, especially the part about the equality of same-sex relationships, out of fear of rejection and outright condemnation from my family. I have not denied, but I have not affirmed.
I am blessed that my family does not reject me or condemn me outright. Their love for me is strong, and I have great faith in that love to keep our relationship intact over these walls and these seeming chasms of difference in faith. Their courage in drawing the line as lovingly as they can has lent me the courage to examine and declare where I stand. In my deepest heart, I wish that this were a simple matter of difference of opinion, as I had hoped it might be. I would give up my attachment to a great many opinions for the sake of my family, and I think they would do the same for me. But in the end, this is not a difference of opinion, but a difference of conviction.
Please pray for us all, friends.
Of The Best Stuff, but Cracked
9 comments:
That paragraph about your conviction is beautiful.
I've been thinking lately about the ways my new (15 year old) faith divides me from my family, even though they still love me, and they came to my wedding and all. But I'm not a part of things that are important to them, and I feel conflicted when I do participate with them. But I'm not brave enough yet to say I won't go with them ever.
I compare this to William Penn and many others who were turned out of their places and homes when they turned Quaker. No one is threatening to beat me. Disinheritance is the least of my worries. But at what price comes integrity?
Oh dear dear dear Friend:
I know, on one level, all that is on thy heart. I must say, before all the talk about Quakerism, that thee will be a huge success one day, as one learns to use the difficulties about which you start this post, as thy talents are remarkable - thee knows many besides me speak of this to thee.
Parents and faith. I was very lucky, as crazy as my family is and was. When they became angry at their home meeting, they kept much of it from me, not going themselves, but allowing me to walk over each First Day, without a sense that I had turned away from them. Even so, it was hard to join the meeting that had turned its back on them, which is why I remained a back bencher so long ... these things are painful deep inside.
And yet ... we place a lot on the wedding as the marriage. It isn't. Genie's cousin Kitta was at odds with her parents over her life, at the time of her marriage, and so, her parents did not go. Her older siblings did, and Genie and I did, but a lot of the family did not. Like thy hypothetical intended, her husband was a wonderful fellow. That goodness, over time, won her parents out, so that though they missed a wonderful wedding, they did not miss a wonderful marriage in the end.
There will be family at this hypothetical event ... but remember that it is just a marker, a moment of commitment, the not even the start of a long and wonderful journey together, that has already begun - not at all a hypothetical.
As to the rest, the seeking a firm base in thy faith and proclaiming it. Oh my. I have woken up ... as usual... 2pm, with thoughts of the price tag. We, for so long, needed to proclaim truth in our faith ... cut away the silly and the notion ... and do the hardest thing ... to speak our truth faithfully, without demeaning the faith of others, sometimes when it means great division. And we do suffer, terribly in our hearts for it ... if in fact we are true to that voice within. Perhaps this is what Yeshua meant, about not always bringing peace. Truth is a terrible burden. And, of course, my own truth, not all Yeshua said was perfect or perfectly passed down to us. However, as Pete Segar said of Alan Lomax, I would trust his intuition over most people's research...
And now to inject the entirely banal ... yes this new version of Blogspot has so many glitches, I might say, in plain truth ... it sucks.
Who ever has the joy to sit with thee and thine, on that day, know, dear Friend and friend, and thy bearded friend and Friend, are so dear in so so many hearts, thy family are there in thy heart with thee. Does thee remember my writing about my friend Sally's childhood? She was sent to boarding school, a stern one in England, which sought to build character by deprivation. She would stand on a chair to look at the clouds over her house in Devises, over the horizon, and picture her family there under them. And yet, in a gentler way, her family was there in her heart, and thine is in thy heart. Sometimes, these things of the world which divide us, seem a separation ... but just as we cannot be separate from God, we cannot be truly separated from each other, and as we look within we find that of God in the family which abandons us. That is, in part, how I forgave my father so much.
Well, I feel like our friend Arthur, when he takes a deep breath and says yes, and launches into more of the message, and John says, it is at that point it is best he sits down ... but ... yes ... it is our faith to not let division lie unattended, but also, we sometimes have to have patience, and know that love will melt the hardest stone, bring down the walls of Jericho, and rebuild the walls of a family home.
Thine dearly in the light
lor
And my dear love to the hypothetical bearded one and his hypothetical little dog too
I can hardly believe that I'm not going to say much about your extraordinary post (which I will re-read prayerfully, since my own wedding was a painful source of division in my family--not something I can write about online, even 26 years later).
Instead I'm going to say that the new blogger programming seems to work much better for me than the old. Once you've done the transition, it will probably work fine.
One other thing: I humbly suggest that the word "unquakerly" is "unquaker."
As always, thanks for your honesty.
Amanda,
I am a reader and sometime commenter. I understand where you are coming from with your beliefs and your parents. Although I am still a practicing Catholic, I married outside of the Church and was blessed enough that my parents wanted to be involved and did not distance themselves because of the religious choices I have made.
I remember standing up on my wedding day and feeling like everyone should feel the way I did. Everyone. Everyone should have the right to go before God and man and be able to be joined to his or her husband or wife for all eternity. (And I'm what you call a Crunchy Con, I guess this is where the Crunchy part comes in...).
You seem to have a wonderful grip both on what you believe and what your parents believe. And with that grip has come understanding and acceptance on your part. I will pray that if this "hypothetical" wedding takes place that God will allow their hearts to be open and be part of the ceremony.
If my mother-in-law, who detests me because I am a Yankee, a Catholic, and many other things, could come past all of that to be a part of her son's happiness, I believe that anyone can overcome their differences for one of their children.
God Bless You,
Kristen
Amanda,
I read here often, not usually commenting. Your hypothetical Quaker wedding/Catholic parent conflict saddens me. The two ceremonies could not be more different.
My husband and I became convinced after we were married, but he was raised Catholic, and our wedding was certainly NOT a Catholic one. His mother did attend the wedding and there was no problem. Now we are Friends, we are unsure how to tell her. At least that hurdle for you has been cleared. May I ask how you approached the suject with your Catholic family?
There is so much mosre I would like to say, but tonight the words are not coming forth. Weighty Friend Lorcan says more than I could hope to (Lorcan, your words always read like poetry to me). Let me add only, as someone who has also suffered from depression, Quakerism and its truth does much to guide and to heal. God is with thee through all, hypothetical or otherwise.
Laurie
Your sense of conviction is a precious gift to so many.
Thank you.
Amanda, my heart breaks for you. I have seen other families who had parents leave gatherings because of their position on alcohol. One way to look at the wedding thing is to downplay the "perfect" day we american women are brainwashed to expect. When you are ready to stand before God with your friend and pledge yourselves to each other DO SO. When you are ready to celebrate your marriage with your family do so. Celebrate separately with your friends. the life you committ to after the big day is what is important.
this is not a difference of opinion, but a difference of conviction
I have had to live with a similar "difference of conviction," between my parents and me. ...Just before I read your post, I was looking at the wedding certificate that hangs on our wall. I was thinking about the dozens of fFriends who signed it, and then I remembered:
My parents refused to sign the certificate.
Oh, they were at the ceremony. And they had let me know months beforehand that (1) they did not believe that my partner and I should marry, and (2) they did not intend to sign the certificate, since they were not united in the sense of joyous witness that others were [going to be] feeling.
It was a hard pill for me to swallow, and I labored with them mightily and lovingly. What I feel good about is that I was able to affirm them for their honesty and integrity with me; they trusted me enough to at least TELL ME what they would or wouldn't do.
But that doesn't mean that my heart doesn't still feel a twinge of sadness or a pang of hurt. They're my PARENTS for goodness sake.
And of course you are talking about a decision that your own parents appear to have made (in the hypothetical at least), that they won't attend your wedding if there are queer people there, which is miles apart from what my parents decided to do. Still, that's how I relate to what you are sharing here: the hurt over difference, the appreciation for conviction, the yearning for reconciliation.
You are in my thoughts... Sorry I've been out of the loop for awhlie.
Blessings,
Liz Opp, The Good Raised Up
Anne Lamott says families are the true training ground for forgiveness, and I believe that is often true.
My fondest wish is that we could all realize that we simply don't have time in our short lives for these feelings of separation, and that we might reconcile our differences before it becomes too late. Which someday it will be.
Good luck with your family and your beliefs, and know you are living with the love of many people.
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