Posted in category "Musings"
By the time theologian and sociologist Nancy Eiesland was 13 years ago, she already gone through 11 operations for the congenital bone defect in her hips and realized pain was her lot in life. So why did she say she hoped that when she went to heaven she would still be disabled? 
The reason, which seems clear enough to many disabled people, was that her identity and character were formed by the mental, physical and societal challenges of her disability. She felt that without her disability, she would “be absolutely unknown to myself and perhaps to God.”
By the time of her death at 44 on March 10, 2009, Eiesland has come to believe that God was in fact disabled, a view she articulated in her 1994 book, The Disabled God: Toward a Liberatory Theology of Disability.” She pointed to the scene described in Luke 24:36-39 in which the risen Jesus invites his disciples to touch his wounds. 
“In presenting his impaired body to his startled friends, the ressurrected Jesus is revealed as the disabled God,” she wrote. God remains a God the disabled can identify with, she argued–he is not cured and made whole; his injury is a part of him, neither a divine punishment nor an opportunity for healing.
I recall a lot of Bible stories about Jesus healing the blind, the lame, the disfigured, the possessed, the hemorrhaging. I don’t recall any stories of a man or woman running away when they heard Jesus was in the neighborhood, afraid he might touch them and change their condition. Just the opposite. But did any melt into the crowd when they heard Jesus was coming down the street? We don’t know. The Bible only describes one group.
A lot of people think of homosexuality as a disability or sickness no one would choose not to be freed from, because of the loss, humiliation, vulnerability, and especially, the pain involved.
In a statement about a year before her death, Eiesland described how her experience of pain changed after an extended stay on medical leave.
“I return with pain,” she said, “but for the first time in at least five years I do not come back on pain killers, mood elevators, or other pharmacological means to dull the ache. I say these things neither to inspire, invite your sympathy or disapproval, nor to chisel into your life in any way. I offer here my experience of pain to remind us that for most of us pain will be an ordinary partner in an ordinary life. The social fiction that long-term pain ought to be treated with more and better drugs is an attractive one.
But even when it is severe and unremitting, I am persuaded that pain is a better friend than is the pain killer. As my life began to reveal, one never can be sure what else within you dies when you try to kill the pain.”
Read her whole statement here.
I wondered how hard it was going to be to observe a full Ash Wednesday fast. The medication for my Lyme disease has upset the balance of my blood sugar, making it difficult to go more than a an hour or two without needing to eat. It was going to be an extra challenge, beyond just going without food for the day. 
I started the day at 4 am like I usually do. I had a small meal of bread and cheese with my medication, and resolved to make it to 5 pm for dinner.
When my body wanted to eat again at 7, I had a small glass of vegetable juice. I had another one an hour later. That carried me to 11 am, when I thought about lunch. Using an old trick from giving up smoking, before the desire to eat started to take over I thought of something else.
When I felt a tinge of hunger, or my mind told me how good some food would taste, I focused on the purpose of my fast today – to live free of all the little hungers, urges, and wants that consciously and unconsciously populate my days.
Around 1 pm I spent an hour at the gym on the treadmill and cardio machines, then doing weights and situps. My body feels good with a good sweat, and when you work out you don’t want to eat. I needed salt, so I had another vegetable juice.
The rest of the afternoon I spent working on a marketing campaign and answering email. After all, Ash Wednesday is a work day for me, not a time apart on retreat.
I checked the clock at 3:30 – an hour and a half to go. My resolution wavered a second, but I resolved to go the distance.
My wife called me from Tampa a few minutes before 5 pm. When we hung up, she left for a reception and business dinner. I put the phone down and walked into the kitchen to cook dinner. The day’s fast had ended.
I felt – lighter, calmer, gentler, less hungry. I usually wolf down my food; tonight I ate slowly and savored every mouthful. I paused for a moment for grace.
God must have helped me get through 12 hours without any food; when the day before I had a hard time managing 30 minutes without a handful of cheddar fish or a container of apple sauce.
“What should we give up for Lent?” I asked my wife recently. But the usual choices–chocolate, dessert–weren’t appealing and felt superficial. In past times it seemed clever to combine Lenten “give-ups” with shaving off five pounds in time for the beach. Not this year.
Last year I promised to put $5 in the charity box every time I used a curse word. The poor box at church made out quite well by the end of Lent, with a big boost from one especially bad day at work which netted $50 before noon.
Once, about two weeks before Easter–when my resolution really starts to wobble–Lori and I were at a Friendly’s near Middletown, NY. That year, we had given up chocolate but not dessert. I noticed one of the sundaes included M&Ms candies.
When the waitress came over to take our order I said: “I have a religious question. I gave up candy for Lent, but if I order the “M&M Sundae” does it…”I didn’t even get to the word “count” before she burst out: “It counts! It’s been tried before! It counts!” 
So much for “wiggle room” during Lent at Friendly’s.
I had to settle for the hot fudge sundae, and sneak sideways glances at my (probably protestant) neighbor in the next booth slurping down a sundae with M&Ms. It looked delicious. It was all I could do not to grab it and run out the door. There is something about sin that just makes things taste better, even though you (always!) regret it later.
The above all fell under the proscribed “give-ups” for Lent, but never impacted my spiritual life in any meaningful way. I justed felt deprived, and tried to turn it into a grace.
But three things converged this year to make me rethink my Lenten practices.
The first was receipt of a notice by Boston College’s School of Theology and Ministry’s “Church in the 21st Century” announcing their spring series would focus on “the riches of the Catholic tradition of spiritual practices.” One lecture in particular caught my eye. “Christian Spiritual Practices: Drawing from the Storeroom Both the Old and the New.” I made a note to explore what ancient practice I could use this Lent.
The second came to me from Zenit, the Vatican news service. The February 3rd edition included Pope Benedict’s Lenten Message for 2009:
“Dear Brothers and Sisters!
As the beginning of Lent, which constitutes an itinerary of more intense spiritual training, the Liturgy sets before us again three penitential practices that are very dear to the biblical and Christian tradition–prayer, almsgiving, fasting–to prepare us to better celebrate Easter and thus experience God’s power that, as we shall hear in the Paschal Vigil, ‘dispels all evil, washes guilt away, restores lost innocence, brings mourners joy, casts out hatred, brings us peace and humbles earthly pride’ (Paschal Praeconium). For this year’s Lenten Message, I wish to focus my reflections especially on the value and meaning of fasting.”
You can read the message in its entirety here. (For the record, I do particularly appreciate the Holy Father’s outspokeness for the protection of the environment, the disproportionate impact of environmental degradation on the poor, and his willingness to take the gloss off of some of Pope John Paul II’s favorites, including Fr. Marcial Mariel and the Virgin Mary apparations as seen by the six “visionaries” of Medjugorje.)
The third was stumbling upon an Ancient Practices Series book entitled Fasting by Scot McKnight, the popular Jesus Creed blogger and Anabaptist theologian. I thumbed through the book while I was browsing at Barnes & Noble on Friday. He inspired me to consider diferent fasts this Lent.
A search on Google led me to Carole Gardibaldi Rogers, a writer, poet and oral historian whose backgound is both Roman Catholic and Jewish. Her articles have appeared in the National Catholic Reporter, America and Commonweal, including one or two on fasting. Her book, Fasting – Exploring a Great Spiritual Practice, will be my companion guide this Lenten season. 
Besides the usual fasts on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, and the abstinence from meat on Friday (when every cheeseburger in the world seems to jump in my face, and the scent of bacon wafts from every open diner door) I will resolve to clothe myself in the armour of the Lord and keep walking. But this year I plan to go beyond and make every Friday my weekly fast day.
This Lent, Lori and I also decided to fast from spending money. That is, the spending on consumables–particularly those we love, like books, chocolate, going out to dinner, tickets to shows and sport events, antiques, stuff for the house, outdoor goods…anything. All discretionary spending will end for 40 days beginning Febuary 25th.
The pain has already set in. I’m going to miss the one New York Knicks basketball game I was going to see this season – February 25th at the Garden against the Hornets.
It will be interesting to see just how much discipline will be involved not to give my body and my imagination whatever it wants, the moment it wants it. And discover just how much of my life is an impulse dedicated to the daily gratification of my wants and needs.
How hard is it going to be to get beyond them?
The Wise still seek him… 
Merry Christmas! Nollaig shona dhibh beirt nuair a thagann si! (Happy Christmas when she comes) Joyeux Noel!
I would like to offer a personal holiday greeting and note of appreciation to all who have contributed to this blog in the last year. Your presence has helped to make it fun, lively, provocative and shared–which is all a person can ask of religion. Your comments have helped me to reflect, explore and reach out–growing in faith and mind. I can ask for no more. Thank you all. I will remember each of you with affection and gratitude at Christmas Eve Mass tonight.
A special thanks to my buddies, and the angels who sat on my shoulders this year as I wrote; including Thom, Michael Bayly, Benny the Bridgebuilder, justme, Christine, Nicole, Archangel, Katherine, Kansas City Catholic, Terry Weldon, Polo, eric, Mary Ellen, Ed Murphy and Christina Bumgardner.
Merry Christmas and joy, always,
Karen
For many years December was the month I used to grit my teeth and endure hearing ”Happy Holiday!” “Season’s Greetings”–anything but “Merry Christmas.” Not anymore.
For the past several years, whenever someone offers a “Happy Holidays” I smile and say back to them, “You can wish me a Merry Christmas.”
For too many years merchants have co-opted Christmas to move their inventory and run up the sales figures for the last quarter.
With each passing year Christmas decorations, lights and bunting go up earlier and earlier. It’s not even Thanksgiving and already fake Holiday/Christmas decorations are up in Penn Station in New York. Advent hasn’t arrived, but plastic reindeer and Frosty the Snowman are blinking away and loudspeakers blast out tinny versions of Jingle Bells and Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree. I have Brenda Lee going off in my head for the rest of the day.
Some Christians, afraid, anxious and guilty that non-Christians might feel “left out” and have their feelings hurt by Christmas, try to minimize the religious meaning of the celebration and turn it into some kind of secular gift-giving holiday.
These people need to get over it.
One of the most breath-taking, touching, and eloquent defenses of Christmas came in the 1965 Charles Schultz special: A Charlie Brown Christmas. When Charlie Brown wonders aloud if he really knows the meaning of Christmas, Linus quotes this verse from Luke:
“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
And that is the message of Christmas: That God so loved us, he came to be with us, share our life, and bring us the warmth of His love.
May that message continue to shine–brightly–through all the seasonal glitter. 
Lori and I celebrate our 21st anniversary today.
Our love and respect for each other has grown over the years and we are still very much in love.
Like other gay couples, we have have said “I Do” to each other several times. We started off with a domestic partnership in New York City on April 8, 1993; a marriage with a nondemoninational minister in Hawaii on August 27, 1998; and a wedding in Massachusetts with a justice of the peace on August 15, 2008. We celebrate all of them with a fancy dinner and nuzzling, but our biggest anniversary, even beyond our legal wedding, is the day of our first date – November 14, 1987.
The amount of “I Dos” we have experienced started to border on the humorous to both us and our families. “How many times are you going to do this,” Lori’s mother asked after our Massachusetts wedding announcement. “Until we get a toaster,” I quipped back. Lori’s younger brother and his wife and daughters surprised us with a beautiful toaster after our vows in front of the justice of the peace. 
Like other couples, we want the emotional, cultural and one day, I hope, religious affirmation of our commitment of a life together until death do us part. We also want all the legal protections and economic benefits of marriage. And yes, there is a seriousness, dignity and closeness that comes with the commitment of marriage.
On the front page of the October 30, 2008 edition of the Wall Street Journal was the article, “Why Just One Wedding Isn’t Enough For Some Gay Couples.” A lot of what other couples go through resonated in our own relationship.
“Daniel McNeil and Patrick Canavan joke they’ve been married four times–to each other. The “I dos” started with a Washington, DC church wedding in 1998. Since then, the two men, both 46 years old, have chased evolving laws across the U.S. to secure a civil union in Vermont, a domestic partnership in the District of Columbia and in August, a marriage in California.”
“Mr. Canavan met Mr. McNeil, a bubbly former Franciscan brother and math teacher, in 1994 at a retreat for gay and lesbian Catholics. They moved in together and got engaged but wanted to demonstrate their commitment publicly. In October 1998, the grooms, in tuxedos, held a Catholic wedding ceremony at an Episcopal church congenial to gay marriages in Washington. The pair picked readings from the Bible and exchanged rings blessed by their Catholic priest, before family and 200 friends. They went to Spain on their honeymoon.”
“It was probably the best day of my life,” Mr. McNeil recalls, speaking of the marriage.
“When California allowed same-sex marriages in May, Messrs. McNeil and Canavan jumped at the chance. In early August they flew to San Francisco with their son and daughter for a ceremony with a few close friends in City Hall. The children acted as witnesses.”
“Mr. McNeil says the wedding felt more like a 10th anniversary. It doesn’t confer any additional rights for the couple back home in Washington. But Mr. McNeil says he now feels emboldened to check the “married” box on things like insurance and health forms.”
Lori and I are starting to say “wife” in describing each other instead of “partner” or “spouse.” It’s still a little uncomfortable, but as we say it we are getting used to it. I checked “Married” for the first time in filling out forms at a new dentist.
We are also in the process of adding each other as the beneficiary to our pensions. As unmarried partners, we would not have been able to claim this benefit. The additional monthly check will help the surviving parter to be more financially secure – peace of mind and assurance we are happy and grateful to have as we grow old together.
Every weekend I’m in Greenport I thank God we were able to buy a house here. I love the village, but most of all I love the nature that surrounds us. Close to the ocean, we are also graced with farmlands and vineyards. It reminds me of a mix of Vermont and Cape Cod.
The closest I have come to a contemplative lifestyle are the weekend walks on the beach. We soak in the sun and the sounds of the gulls and tide rolling over the pebbles on the shore.
We often walk by little shrines people have built of rocks and shells. I understand why they are there.
We snuggle next to each other on a rock or against a driftwood log and watch the sea and the sailboats. We daydream. Every time we say we wish we didn’t have to go.
Fall has started, and it brings its own rhythm. We get out the bird feeders and put away the terra cotta pots and saints of summer.
It’s like prayer time going back and forth with my old battered green wheelbarrow to bring maple and apple wood to the house to stack near the fireplace. It will soon be cold enough for our first fire. Those nights bring their own day dreams, watching the fire burn down to embers.
The leaves have started to fall, but we’ll need a big fall storm to really shake them down.
My “Trinity” icon – one of those iconic fall leaves – reminds me daily of God’s presence in nature. 
Trinity was painted by James Napoleon, who did a series called “Leaves of Autumn.” I bought it last year during his show in Greenport.
The North Fork of Long Island is blessed by a very special light. The sunlight shining on Long Island Sound and Peconic Bay combines to illuminate the fields, vineyards and sky of the land in-between.
Napoleon captures this light in his paintings, and how it illuminates everything and everyone.
