Category: mysticism

One View of the Garden of Eden After the Eating of the Fruit

On By MaryIn Awareness, cosmogony, cosmology, growth into humanity, mysticism, spiritual growthLeave a comment

It came to pass late one afternoon, in the transitional moments before twilight, just as the sun was caressing the horizon, that Shekinah was strolling through the garden. She was carrying a resplendent, glowing alabaster pot, filled with the fire of the breath of creation, on her way to feed the tree of wisdom and the tree of life. Just ahead of her she saw Adam and Eve, and at first she couldn’t fathom what they were doing. Then it dawned on her, they were dressing themselves in fig leaves.

Shekinah was so shocked, she dropped the pot, and it shattered into billions of shards. How did they know they were naked and needed to cover themselves? There was only one possible answer. They had eaten of the tree of wisdom, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, before the fruit it bore was ripe. They just couldn’t wait. In one, maybe two, more months, the fruit would have been ripe, creation would have evolved a bit more, they would have grown in knowledge and wisdom themselves. Things would have been so different.

Shekinah tried to tell Yahweh that giving them a prohibitive commandment wouldn’t work. She argued that it would have been better to explain the ripening process to them, to help them understand it was not “no, never” but rather, “no, not just yet.” But now the fruit of the pomegranate tree will never ripen.  Now, Adam and Eve will have to face the consequences of their actions. Now, all of humanity to come will have to devote their lives to the repair of the world, regathering the fire of the breath of creation through acts of mercy and justice, working to find the balance between those two kinds of good works.

Who Made You?

On By MaryIn growth into humanity, In-spiration, lost goddesses, mysticism, random thoughts, spiritual growth2 Comments

I will confess, I am a product of too many years of Catholic school education. My earliest years at Holy Trinity school devoted more time to catechism than to math or penmanship. The good Sisters burned the question, “Who made you?” into my brain early on. (The Baltimore Catechism rote answer was always, “God made me . . .”) Recently, again, I’ve been thinking about the whole God-ness thing. Who is God/Goddess? What can our/my relationship to God, the Goddess be? How do I even begin to think about her/him/they/all of that which is? What name do I use? How do you/I adequately respect the Creator of every-thing?

Respect is tricky. I’m not even sure how it is possible to adequately respect my parents, my particular creators, who are human and flawed, yet who literally gave me my start in the world, who fed me, clothed me, sheltered me when I was helpless. God knows my parents were not perfect. I could go on about how I might wish they had been different. But where would I be without them?

How much more respect (and I know that is a profoundly inadequate word), is due to the Creator of every-thing? The one who was before every-thing, the one who always was and always will be, the Ground of All Being (thank you Paul Tillich). When I try to think about this, my brain feels caught in a centrifugal spin cycle! I need some structure and boundaries to bring my brain back into focus.

But the traditional Roman Catholic lines of thinking that first shaped my thinking just don’t do it for me anymore. Too patriarchal. Too God the Father.

Just when I was feeling particularly lost, I came across Sallie McFague’s book: Models of God: Theology for an Ecological, Nuclear Age. In the book she cautions that it is not possible to construct a definition of God. It just can’t be done. My words, but it would be like trying to draw a map that included everything! Maps and metaphors and models include some bits and necessarily leave out others. And, what is left out is often as telling as what’s included. That said, she describes one possible model built on experiences of relating to God. … that was just what I’d been fumbling to sus out, so I was delighted!

Here’s a very condensed version of some of her core ideas. First, she begins with the grounding assumption that the power of the universe is gracious.  … I take some comfort in that. The power of the universe is gracious, not dominating, not judgmental, but gracious. When we related to God in prayer, she encourages us to remember that we are addressing, not describing, God, and she suggests a three-part model for our relationship: mother-father, lover, friend.

Mother-father: creator, who says it is good that you exist, who says that you are good.

Lover: savior (and haven’t our best lovers been saviors to us in a way?), who says that you are valuable beyond all measure.

Friend: sustainer, who invites us to work and celebrate together as collaborators in the process of creation, as we nurture each other.

It is not a perfect picture. There are lots of gaps. But for me, right now, it is a nice start, and a comforting beginning answer to the question, “Who made you?”

Just Standing on the Crest of the Hill

On By MaryIn Cloister of the Sisters of Mary Magdalene, happiness, mysticism, solitudeLeave a comment

On a lovely day in a merry month, several of the Sisters of Mary Magdalene were out walking in the woods surrounding the cloister. As they perused the plants along the path, one of them looked up and noticed Mother Magdalene standing on the rise of the hill just ahead of them. Sister Beatrix turned to the other sisters and asked, “Why do you think Mother Magdalene is standing up there on the top of that hill?”

Sister Septimus said, “She must be up there because it is cooler and she is enjoying the breeze.”

Sister Beatrix looked to Sister Bryda and asked her, “Why do you think Mother Magdalene is up there on the top of the hill?” And Sister           replied, “That hill is the highest point on the cloister grounds, she must be looking to see what can be seen off to the distance.”

Sister Beatrix then asked Sister Visentia who said, “It has been a long and trying year for Mother Magdalene, for us all certainly, but particularly for Mother Magdalene. I believe she is standing there re-collecting the events of the year, perhaps thinking of Sister Ludwika who died in Hurricane Sandy.”

After some time of walking, the good Sisters achieved the rise of the hill and came up to Mother Magdalene. She was still standing there. They asked her to say which one was correct concerning her reason for standing where she was.

Mother Magdalene asked them, “What reasons do you have for my standing her?”

“We have three,” they replied. “First, you are here because it is a bit cooler and to enjoy the breeze; second since the hill is the highest point within the cloister, you are searching out the distance to see what can be seen; third because the year has been a trying one, you are here to re-collect the year and to remember Sister Ludwika. We do not mean to intrude on your practice and your thoughts, but since we found you here, we are hoping you will share your intentions with us.”

Mother Magdalene smiled at the sisters and said, “Dear ones, I was just standing, standing in the presence, in the presents of all that is. That is enough. I am; we are. That is enough. That is everything.”

Mila Repa the Eagle Tower Caves of the Red Rock Jewel Valley

On By MaryIn alchemy, love, mysticism, spiritual growthLeave a comment

Mila Repa was a great Tibetan Buddhist yogi.  But, before he became a yogi, Mila Repa was a bit of a scoundrel. I mention that only to highlight that indeed change is possible – if you are committed to it and work at it.  So this story is known as the tale of Mila Repa in the Eagle Tower Caves of the Red Rock Jewel Valley. 

 Mila Repa had been studying with his guru Marpa for a number of years, working to overcome the negative karma that he had accumulated during his years as a scoundrel.  Our Mila Repa was not yet the most patient man, and so he was not satisfied with the pace of his progress. Eventually Mila Repa convinced Marpa that he should go off to the caves to pray and meditate in solitude, to get away from the distractions of day to day life. Marpa merely smiled a Mila Repa’s insistence, and finally gave his blessing to his student’s insistence.

 One day, after Mila Repa had been living in the caves for some time he went out to collect firewood from the valley just below his cave. While he was out, a serious strom blew up. The wind was fierce, and as quickly a Mila Repa could pick up wood, the wind blew it out of his arms. The wind whipped his robes around and promised to tear off even that bit of protection.  As his frustration grew, Mila Repa remember the Buddhist injunction to be free of ego and attachments. And he chastised himself, saying something like, “What is the point of my great devotions and solitary practice if I cannot manage to control my own ego! Let the wind take my robes away if it wants to.”  And, just as he became aware of that thought, he fainted from the exertion and the struggle. When he came to, he observed that the storm had blown itself out, and he saw his tattered robe tangled in the branches of a nearby scrub tree.

 Necessity being necessity, Mila Repa gathered up his robes, put them on, got himself back together, and gathered up the firewood that he had set out for. After a bit more work, he got himself and the wood back to his cave.  When  he arrived at the cave, he was surprised to find that his cave had been invaded and taken over by five of the ugliest, most ferocious looking demons that he had ever seen. They were huge, smelly, drooling with large fangs and claws. Mila Repa was shocked to see them in his peaceful dwelling space. But, he had his own history of villainy, so, undaunted he introduced himself to the demons and asked them to leave. The demons took this to be impudent effrontery, and became menacing. They destroyed his food stores, they ripped up his books of prayers and scriptures, and generally wrecked havoc in the cave. Then they surrounded Mila Repa, growling and taunting him maliciously. The demons made it clear that they were serious in their malevolence. Now, Mila Repa was alarmed and afraid. This was no mere halucination. He was in mortal danger.

 Seeing their growing hostility, Mila Repa thought about his options. He thought about his years as a villan, and rejected violence as a possible response. He reaffirmed his committment to his Buddhist vows. He recited prayers of exorcism, with no effect. He preached Buddhism to them, he chanted Buddhist prayers and teachings to them, he told them of great acts of compassion from the history of Buddhism.  All of this to no avail. Indeed, all of this had the opposite effect, only increasing their hostility toward him.

Despairation was descending on Mila Repa. He thought about all he knew. He thought about his years of study of Buddhism, he remembered that our experience and interpretation of reality is but a projection of our own mind. He remembered that all of our experiences are but teachers, intended to open our heart to greater awareness and love. … Mila Repa laughed out loud as he realized how romantic and lofty he always thought those teachings sounded. And now, his life seemed to hang on his ability to put those teachings into practice. Mila Repa remembered all that he had learned about love and now understood it with a new fearlessness. He welcomed the demons into his home and his life. He invited them to talk and eat and play together. He listened to them, even as he challenged them to listen to him. They engaged in a dialogue. He listened and learned — not to their taunts as they presented them, but to the meanings of those taunts within the context of awareness, love and enlightenment. And Mila Repa’s understanding and practice grew deeper and more refined. The demons did not leave – they never leave. But, Mila Repa’s relationship to them was transformed. They became his greatest teachers. Crisis is both danger and opportunity.