This is a blog that has been wanting to be written for a while now. I'm not sure that it's appropriate as "pastoral blog," as it is about a personal quandry in which I have found myself. Yet, it addresses an issue that I think may be faced by many of those who follow Brigid in the Desert as well as any other Interspiritual, Pagan, Christopagan, or even Progressive Christian individual. It's about the nature of friendship and the struggle when someone we consider a friend judges us and finds us wanting.
As you may have guessed, I think I've lost a friend. This is a person I met in my "mundane" life; that is, outside of the religious path I have been following. There is no "outside" of my spiritual life. My spirituality is all that I am and is reflected in most everthing I do, especially my writing. Those who have been close to me or who have followed along as Brigid in the Desert has been developing know I have struggled a bit with my religious identity. They know that I spent a long time attempting to balance my perception of the expectation of others in regard to religion with the spiritual reality that resonates within me.
Those who have been with me all along know I am a follower of the teachings of Jesus.They know I am also one who honors the Divine Feminine. They know I am a Panentheist, that I believe that God is in everything. They know I am also a Polytheist in that I believe that all concepts of deity are culturally derived and represent God in ways that meet the needs of the people. They know that I am a practitioner of magick, that I believe that prayers and spells are both forms of energy work. They know I am also a bit of a Jungian, finding the various personifications of God to be useful archetypes of the various aspects of the human psyche. I'm not a psychologist by any means, nor am I an academic theologian or a philosopher. I am a believer in a greater force that pulls us towards our better selves. In that, I can be considered a process theologian. I believe that the stories of the gods and goddessess of all peoples tell a piece of the Truth. They reveal the relationship that the people in a given culture has had with God, with one another, and with the others they have encountered throughout history. This includes the stories in the Hebrew Bible. This includes the stories of Jesus in the Gospels. This includes the stories written as letters and included in the Christian New Testament. This also includes the letters, codexes, and scrolls that are not included in the Bible. Yes, it also includes the tales handed down through The Mabinogion of the Welsh people and the stories written down as the Prose Edda by the Christian writer Snorri Sturluson and the Poetic Edda of the Codex Regius, written down by an Icelandic Christian priest. In fact, it includes the many tales of many peoples, from the Sumerian/Mesopotamian Gilgamesh to the Sanskrit Vedas to the Native American tales of Grandmother Spider and Coyote. It includes the tales and teachings of Buddha. I believe that human history is the unfolding revelation of the relationship of humanity to one another and to an ineffable yet somehow relational God.
Those who have been close to me understand that this is my spiritual identity. I am a priest in an interspiritual denomination of Christianity because my spiritual identity fits with the religious identity of this denomination. Since finding the UAIC and being ordained, I have not hidden my spirituality. In fact, I have reached out to others who find themselves no longer fitting into the boxes they have been trying to squeeze into, spiritually speaking. I've written poetry and prose inspired by my spiritual experiences, my walk in the Craft, and my connection to various deities across a mythological spectrum. I have shared some of this work at public readings, where many people have an opportunity to hear what I have to say. Yet, this friend of mine must have misunderstood me. We met for tea and a good chin wag many a time, and we discussed God and Jesus. I knew that my friend believed differently than I, yet I was able to connect with them and felt that they had with me as well. When I published my collection of short stories about individuals healed by Jesus, this friend encouraged me and ordered copies. Perhaps I should have realized that we hadn't understood each other as well as I thought.
A few months ago my friend asked to be added to the Brigid's Arrow newsletter mailing list, so I added them. For those who aren't on the list, I will just say that the newsletter deals with various topics appropriate to the time of year from different cultural and religious perspectives. For example, an issue in the spring may have a story about Easter and the resurrection of Jesus, a story about Eostara, and a story about the traditions of springtime in various cultures. I try to write the articles in a manner that includes those who believe, for instance, in a literal physical resurrection and those who believe that it is a metaphor for spiritual rebirth. A winter issue will deal with both Christmas and Yule, the winter solstice. You get the drift, I'm sure.
One day I received a message from my friend telling me that they no longer read the newsletter and that they were concerned for my soul. I haven't heard anything else from them. I have not responded, either. I don't know exactly what to say. It is my heartfelt belief that the state of my soul is a concern between myself and God. I took the person off the mailing list, of course. I'm not trying to be contrary. I think there could have been conversation around the issues that bothered them. In fact, that is the point of the newsletter, of the meetings, and of the discussion page on Facebook. I am not a teacher, I'm a facilitator. I think we all grow more with exploration and discussion.
Much time has passed since I received that message. The friend is still my "friend" on my personal Facebook. Sometimes, I see their posts and "like" or "love" them, but I never comment. I can't help but wonder if they were ever really a friend. Or, perhaps it is I who have fallen short, for perhaps I was not as honest as I thought. If I had been, they would have know me better.
Have you ever found yourself pondering your friendships? What does it mean, to be a friend?
No comments:
Post a Comment