Light in the Darkness

By Rev. Jeffery Logan,

I’ve been working with Grace-Street Ministry as a homeless outreach pastor for the past six years, and the things that this community has taught me would fill a legion of Reflectionaries.

But one of the most important is that no matter the breadth and depth of the darkness, there is always at least a glimmer of light puttering about on the periphery, shy and self-effacing in the midst of so much gloom.

And the gloom is impossible to miss.  Although the community didn’t take a direct hit from the virus, the pandemic had a significant impact on the services provided, particularly bathrooms, showers, and laundry facilities

And then there are the day-to-day tragedies, large and small:  the relentless deaths from drug overdose, the evictions, the violence, the strain of the everyday that tears even committed couples apart, the arrests for small transgressions that wouldn’t merit any police attention among the housed.  And then there are the health challenges, the chronic diseases like diabetes or COPD that are almost impossible to manage on the streets, the seizure disorders, the badly infected sores that can lead to cellulitis, the surgeries and cancers that afflict folks without the comfort of a home to help give them the strength to fight for their lives.

Yes, it can feel overwhelming sometimes.  But the light is always there as well.  Sometimes it’s as simple as a group of friends, sitting on the sidewalk hopefully in the shade or under an awning, sharing what little they have.  If there are several people and only one cigarette or Natty Daddy beer, it will get shared.  These are by no means the standard elements, but it’s still a kind of communion, as sacred as it is profane.

And then there is the occasional bright beacon of light as when a couple recently had extra food stamp funds and threw a BBQ for unhoused people hanging out in a Westbrook park.  Or another man, finally housed after an extended time on the street, who uses some of the money from his disability check at the beginning of the month to cook a meal for the folks in Deering Oaks Park.

And then there are the more traditional incursions of the sacred, as when someone asks for prayer for themselves or a loved one, or when they request one of the crosses that all of us wear.  We tell them that it comes with a blessing, and we ask God to bring his strength and his love and his light into the lives of the person wearing it, and remind them that when they reach out to God, he will be reaching back.  And may they never doubt that they are worthy of God’s love.

Some days it’s hard to see, but over the years I’ve become a cheerleader for those moments of light, those moments of Grace, those heartbreaking examples of the love of God.  You can carry a lot of darkness as long as there’s just a little bit of light to see the way.



Rev. Jeffery Logan was ordained by the Chaplaincy Institute of Maine in 2015.  Prior to that, he worked for 14 years as a Shakespearean actor in New York City, and has been practicing acupuncture in Maine since 1998.

After his ordination, Jeffery started working as one of the co-pastors of Grace-Street Ministry, a homeless outreach ministry in Portland, Maine.  He became executive director in 2019. https://www.gracestreetministry.org/ Grace-Street Ministry on Facebook.

The Mystery of Divinity

By Robert Atkinson

The quest to understand the greatest mystery of all – the nature of the Sacred – is a search for transcendent meaning that most characterizes us as the species Homo sapiens. To the indigenous peoples of the world, the land is revered, life is lived in harmony with nature, and all life is related. This holistic view of the Sacred sustains an awareness that there is no separation between one thing and another.

Our fascination with the ultimate power and greatest good that we think of as Divinity, or the Sacred, has not diminished over the millennia. Over many spiritual ages, we have come to accept that such an infinite, limitless reality can in no way be fully known. As Baha’u’llah explained: “The Divine Being” always has and will be hidden “in the impenetrable mystery of His unknowable Essence...”

There will always remain a vast unknown around us. Scientists and other thinkers alike acknowledge that our most concerted explorations inevitably lead to yet greater mysteries. Comprehending the essence of the Unknown is beyond the scope of our finite conceptions.

Yet, at the heart of the entire creation, the mystery of oneness looms. Both material and spiritual reality, as much as we can understand them, are counter-balancing parts of the same unified reality, held together by the same Creator.

If we allow ourselves an openness to this Oneness, with a heart turned toward recognizing our deeper identity as a reflection of this reality, all paths lead us closer to the ultimate mystery we seek, and into a universal experience of knowing something more than what is visible.

Religion evolves through cycles of interconnected, cumulative sacred traditions that change in structure and form while moving through history, all having their origin in the same Source. The oneness of Divinity becomes more recognizable as the process of ongoing Revelation is visualized as an unfolding, ever-growing tree with Indigenous traditions branches, Abrahamic branches, and Dharmic branches.

If we take a holistic view of the paradox of many religions and one Creator, we see the world’s religions are not separate entities, but one evolving knowledge system whose purpose is to help us decipher the mystery of Divinity.

As Abdu’l-Baha put it in the early twentieth century, “Religion is the outer expression of divine reality. Therefore, it must be living, vitalized, moving, and progressive.” And as Teilhard de Chardin said a half century later, “Evolution is a general condition to which all theories, all hypotheses, all systems must bow… a light illuminating all facts, a curve that all lines must follow.”

Pondering the Great Mystery in which all things are tied together in a scaredness beyond comprehension, especially in this time of seemingly deeper divisions, can give us pause while helping us to re-member the wholeness of all things.

Adapted from The Story of Our Time: From Duality to Interconnectedness to Oneness.

Robert Atkinson, PhD, author, educator, and developmental psychologist, is a 2017 Nautilus Book Award winner for The Story of Our Time: From Duality to Interconnectedness to Oneness and a 2020 Nautilus Book Award winner as co-editor of Our Moment of Choice: Evolutionary Visions and Hope for the Future. His other books include Year of Living Deeply: A Memoir of 1969 (2019), Mystic Journey: Getting to the Heart of Your Soul’s Story (2012), and The Gift of Stories (1995). He is professor emeritus at the University of Southern Maine, director of StoryCommons, founder of One Planet Peace Forum, and a member of the Evolutionary Leaders Circle. www.robertatkinson.net

Landscape photograph by Robert Atkinson.

Mary Magdalene Speaks

Be on your guard so that no one deceives you by saying, ‘Look over here!’ or ‘Look over there!’ For the child of true Humanity exists within you. Follow it! Those who search for it will find it.

Go then, preac[h] the good news about the Realm. [Do] not lay down any rule beyond what I determined for you, nor promulgate law like the lawgiver, or else you might be dominated by it.”

—Gospel of Mary

Mary Magdalene has been an enigmatic and controversial figure throughout the history of the Christian Church. She has also always been equally popular and now she is becoming even more so. She has been portrayed as a prostitute and Apostle to the Apostles, a redeemed sinner and the Bride of Christ.

The Gospel of Mary is a long-lost piece of early Christian writing, probably written (we do not know by whom) in the second century A.D. It came to light in an antique market in Egypt in the late 19^th Century. In it, Mary Magdalene is framed as the only disciple who truly understands Jesus’ message, which puts her in direct conflict with the apostle Peter, the ultimate leader of the emerging Christian Church.

The message Mary offers from Jesus in the Gospel of Mary certainly contradicts what eventually became Christian orthodoxy. Rather than a "Son of Man," here Jesus speaks of the "Child of True Humanity." Rather than a Kingdom arriving with the Second Coming, he says this Child of True Humanity is in each of us and those who search for it will find it. He also warns against laying down rule and law, “or else you might be dominated by it.”

It seems to me that the Gospel of Mary actually predicted exactly what happened. By 325 at the Council of Nicaea, the establishment of Canon Law was well underway. The Gospel of Mary, and many other texts espousing a more mystical, direct communion with the Divine, minus intermediaries such as priests or popes, were in wide circulation in the early years of the church. Suddenly they were labelled heretical and excluded from the official canon. It was also established that only men could be church leaders, a jarring departure from the beginnings of Christianity when both women and slaves held positions of power in many Christian churches.

The rediscovery of this side of Christianity, so long suppressed, feels to me like a cool rain after a centuries-long drought. And Mary Magdalene is at the heart of it. Many scholars believe that it was Mary’s enormous influence and power that lead to her being erroneously labelled a prostitute for hundreds of years. And it was also the reason that love and veneration of her were in the end even more persistent. And now Mary (like so many aspects of the Divine Feminine) is back. What does she have to say to us, the people of today, Christian and non-Christian alike? Perhaps she holds a key to a better future, a future we have been denied for two thousand years—but no more.

Sources:

The Gospel of Mary of Magdala: Jesus and the First Woman Apostle, translation and historical analysis by Karen L. King, 2003

The Meaning of Mary Magdalene: Discovering the Woman at the Heart of Christianity by Cynthia Bourgeault, 2010



Lindy Gifford is an artist, photographer, graphic designer, creative coach, and writer, ordained an interfaith chaplain in 2015 by the Chaplaincy Institute of Maine (ChIME). A life-long Unitarian Universalist, she is rooted in daily interaction with and connection to the Earth and Creation, as well as the Christian and pre-Christian heritage of her ancestors. She is the author of the Doodle-ography Journal. Her spirit-based practice as a creative coach and publishing consultant is Manifest Identity. Lindy lives on and learns from the Damariscotta River where she and her husband Steve raised two shining daughters.

Image: Mary Magdalene by Piero di Cosimo (Wikimedia Commons)

Grasshopper’s Wisdom

By Nikki Starcat Shields,

The Summer Solstice is a paradox. This holiday is known as Midsummer, yet here in Maine, the summer weather is barely getting started. Just as it finally gets warm enough to swim outdoors, the days begin to grow shorter. The wheel of the year turns, and the darker half of the year begins. There are little hints of fall within the fullness of our summer bloom.

Here at the official start of summer, the flora, whether in the wild or in our carefully-tended gardens, is flourishing. The animals and birds are reproducing. We just saw a nesting pair of eagles in the cove at camp, and some ducks following their mother carefully. In our woods at home, there are baby mice and adolescent porcupines.

Yet summer is a fleeting time. Perhaps it’s a finely-honed metaphor for the swift passing of life itself. The fae spirits of the land are alive and active now. The portals between worlds are open—but only for a limited time.

Remember the Aesop’s fable of the ants and the grasshopper? While the sturdy, reliable ants work through the warmest part of the year, storing food for winter, the grasshopper plays his fiddle. The tale favors the ants, painting the grasshopper as a fool for not thinking of his future (hungry) self.

In our current culture, though, many of us have become tireless ants. In the original tale, the grasshopper says, “I was so busy making music that before I knew it the summer was gone.” Think about how often we hear people lament the summer passing so quickly that it was over before they had a chance to swim, hike, camp, or simply enjoy their own backyard as much as they’d wished. The pendulum has swung more to work than play.

The paradox of summer beginning just as the days grow shorter urges us to be more like the grasshopper. Take time off. Go outside. Don’t always be thinking about the future, at least not so much that you miss this precious moment.

Bring more adventure into your life while the weather is welcoming and everything is blooming. Go for that hike, take out the kayaks, or embark on that road trip. Pick fresh strawberries.

In Maine, some of us proclaim that we can’t enjoy summer in our state because there are too many tourists. So what?  People-watching can be fun. Or maybe you can dig deeper, finding the less well-known nature spots where you can camp, walk, or swim.

At least for now, while everything is alive and growing, set aside those ant family values. Enjoy some live music at an outdoor venue. Pack a fancy picnic basket and lug it to the water’s edge. Camp out in the backyard.

Let the turning of the wheel propel you into cherishing what you love about this gorgeous place. Instead of constantly looking to what’s “wrong” -  like traffic, humidity, and mosquitoes - relish these delightful days in paradise. May summer fill you with an abundance of delights!

Nikki Starcat Shields is an author, writing coach, and leader of transformational writing retreats. She's also a licensed Pagan priestess. Nikki teaches people to be Thriving Artists, writing their heartfelt books while also nurturing themselves and their creative lives. She lives in Hollis, Maine and adores reading, cats, and spending time by the ocean. She can be found at www.nikkistarcatshields.com.

Hammock photo by John Evans

Water

By Mary Gelfand,

I am the water—the water that endlessly flows and moves, except when it is still.

I am the soft and gentle rain that blesses the Earth,filling the streams and rivers.

I am the waterfall that rushes headlong over the cliff.

I am a single drop of water that breaks free of the rest—spinning far from the others—shinning and sparkling in the sunlight—falling gracefully back into the Mother of Waters.

I am the lily pads floating on the water.

I am the frog sitting on the pad,croaking out his love song for the universe to hear.

I am the water held in the interstices of earth,absorbed by the roots of every surrounding plant.

I am the water moving up the plant—through the rootsand into the stalk—the trunk—the flowers—the leaves.

I am the water vaporizing from the leaves—mounting ever upwards to join other wafts of vapor—moving ever higher.

I am the cloud—holding water in an airy form—drifting across the sky in a seemingly aimless manner.

I am the water in the thunderhead—roiling, building, increasing, darkening—until released to fall back to Earth in noisy torrents.

I am the water that flows through your veinsand gives thanks.

 

Rev. Dr. Mary Gelfand is an ordained Interfaith Minister, a gifted teacher, and Wiccan High Priestess. She teaches and writes on the topics of feminist spirituality, Tarot, and Earth-centered spiritual paths. She resides in Wells with her husband Mark, two cats, and a forest full of birds, chipmunks, and other mysteries of life. You can see more of her writings at weavingthestars.blogspot.com.

Splash photograph by Anton Malan

Dark Matters

By gkisedtanamoogk,

Among many Indigenous Nations, Quietness, Peace, Darkness are to be honored; honoring such acknowledges the realms of Knowledge and Understanding; embracing such, illuminates the relationship of Consciousness to the Universe.

For Indigenous Peoples, the Quiet Dark remains the Origin and Home of the Sacred. Everything physically known to humanity originates in Darkness, as perhaps revealed by Genesis and certainly within Indigenous Creation Narratives. The Physical Cosmology acknowledges that approximately 95% of the universe is Dark Energy; 85% is Dark Matter; 99% of the Universe is in Darkness—looking at the night sky may be a truth for consideration.

One cannot refute the great evil arising in humanity from time to time, such as greedy self-interests underpinning intentional ignorance, accentuated by the “I don’t care to know” temperament, and resulting in injustice and harm to social life, the normative social casting of People, religious intolerance, the ever-evolving despotic nature of Democracy and Governance, the economics of unconstrained wealth accumulation, and power imbalance, to name a few. But linking “evil” and “ignorance” with the “dark” and “darkness,” as Christianity and some other traditions do, has not helped in combating these evils.

A deeper Knowing, far beyond socio-religious limitations, is the certainty principal of the Metaphysics of Consciousness and Existence, that is, the Reality of Life flowing through our veins and breath.  For the Wampanoag, the abyss of the evening sky, full of billions of stars and billions of galaxies, defines the Universe as the fractal nature of You and i in the same moment. This illumination is simultaneously the immeasurable profundity of the Dark that is every woman's Womb, exemplifying the fractal resonance of and reverence for the Universe as the Womb of Existence, thus, Holy, thus Sacred.

gkisedtanamoogk, is from the Wampanoag Community of Mashpee located on cape cod south of boston, massachusetts, married to Miigam’agan. Together they have three Children and three Grandchildren. He was one of five Commissioners on the Maine Wabanaki State Child Welfare Truth and Reconciliation Commission and taught for 10 years at the University of Maine. He has shared several presentations with the Chaplaincy Institute of Maine. gkisedtanamoogk resides with his Family at Esgenoôpetitj on the Burnt Church Reserve; he would say that Mi’kmaq Homelands are occupied by the province of new brunswick and canada.

Stars photograph from NASA website.

Pandemic Prayers

by Jacob Watson,

Click to listen to the InsightTimer meditation: Pandemic Prayers

Rev. Jacob Watson, D.Min. is the author of We’re Gainin’: Collins Brook, A Maine Free School—A Memoir, which he wrote to celebrate the 50^th anniversary of the school’s founding in 1969. Jacob founded Collins Brook School and the Chaplaincy Institute of Maine. He is teaching a pilot interfaith chaplaincy program to students in Brazil and Guatemala. His Morning Blessing Gift meditations and Mini-Satsangs are available as audio recordings on the free meditation app Insight Timer. He may be reached through his website revjacobwatson.com.

As I Am

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K420Zz65fjg

Words and music by Todd Glacy,

How I love being here

In this world as I AM

Yes I love being here

In this world as I AM

I AM here

I AM now

I AM present

Yes I AM

And I love being here

In this world as I AM

Yes I love being here

In this world as I AM

Rev. Todd Glacy, MA, is an enlightenment advocate, empowerment coach and instigator of Joy! Based in Maine, he travels extensively as a guest presenter (speaker, educator, musician and workshop facilitator) sharing his ministry of Sacred Sound and Living, inspiring and empowering people to live happy, healthy, peaceful and more fulfilling lives. To learn more about Todd, visit www.sacredsoundandliving.com.

The 11th Commandment

By The Rev. James A. Weathersby,

I don’t see the air I breathe moment by moment. I don’t see the gravity that keeps me from flying off the Earth into the void less space to my doom. I don’t see Justice or Mercy exercised daily by people on behalf of strangers. There is a lot I don’t see in my life, but I count on their presence and activity to live my life. I did not know how often I counted on the presence and activity of love in my life, until those I loved began to die. I now know for certain that the love and influence of key others in my life, helped shape me into the man, husband, minister and friend that I am today. I remember a song from the 1970s ‘What the world needs now, is love…sweet love’. The necessity for love is apparent in the lyrics; everyone needs love!

During the Covid Pandemic lockdown in 2020, the absence of love in human contact become apparent. People literally stopped thriving. Children and elders alike began to wither under lack of human contact, separated by barriers and physical distance. Especially in funerals, we lost much of our ability to say goodbye to departed loved ones and reinvest in life. I remember in Seminary; we had a pointed discussion about the 11^th Commandment. Jesus is quoted as saying “This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12). Love the world with a sacrificial, accepting love. Love ourselves with patient, forgiving love. Humanity needs this level of love; sacrificial, accepting, patient and forgiving. This is how America will heal as a Nation. This is how we shall continue to live together on this planet. Love.

The Rev. James A. Weathersby M.Div., BCC was born in Chicago, product of a dedicated single mother and the Public-School system. He is a genetic Baptist and a historic Democrat; spirituality in his veins for generations. His family valued Education and the Black church; there are four generations of ministers in his family, serving as Pastors of congregations and Chaplains in Institutions. His Bachelors of Arts came from Trinity Christian College in Palos Heights, Illinois from the Reformed Churches of America tradition. His Masters of Divinity Degree (specialty in Pastoral Care and Counseling) came from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary of Louisville Kentucky, from the Southern Baptist tradition. His professional career as a Chaplain includes serving populations in Hospitals, Hospice, both Men’s and Women’s Corrections (Death Row Chaplain) in several Midwestern states. His time in Maine has included Chaplaincy at a Youth Development Center, Pastor to an island congregation and lately, Chaplain (II) of the State Forensic and civil Psychiatric Center. He has been honored to be married for 27 years and enjoy writing, yoga, and reading.

Love's Change, painting by Valerie A. Clemons.

Jonah, Suicide, and “GOD Doesn’t Give You ANY More Than You Can Handle”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_q7glIeBC8

by Maya Williams,

after Raych Jackson 

“So now, Lord, kill me instead, because I would rather die than live!” —Jonah 4:3 NET

GOD has given Jonah A LOT that he couldn’t handle.

That’s why when he found out he had to go to Nineveh he tried his best to avoid

it.

GOD has given me A LOT that I couldn’t handle.

That’s why when I found out I had to go to therapy more I tried my best to avoid

it.

GOD has given Jonah A LOT he couldn’t handle.

That’s why he thought of ending his life before the large fish

could.

GOD has given me A LOT that I couldn’t handle.

That’s why I thought of ending my life before the large fish called Life

could.

GOD allowed our fish to swallow us whole.

Maya Williams (ey/they/she) is a religious Black and Mixed Race suicide survivor currently residing in Portland, ME. Ey has published poems in venues such as The Portland Press Herald, Littoral Books, A Gathering Together, Pensive: a Global Journal of Spirituality and the Arts, FreezeRay, and more. They also performed spoken word for The Kennedy Center, Black Table Arts, and The Mixed Remixed Festival amongst others. You can follow her work at www.mayawilliamspoet.com.

Requiem for Arthur Fink

By Mary Gelfand,

It is with great sadness that the Abbey of Hope shares the passing of founding member Arthur Fink. Executive Director and founder Lori Whittemore writes: “Arthur saw and understood the vision of the Abbey of Hope before we were launched. He was more than a founding member; he was present at conception and birth. He provided clarity and structure from the very beginning and did not waiver in his steadfast support of growing interfaith understanding and cooperation until his health took a turn.

Additionally, Arthur provided support and understanding for me over the seven years I have known him. He offered deep listening and an honoring presence whenever I needed him. Arthur was a Quaker. And while Quakers do not recognize formal clergy, Arthur was a chaplain to the core. The activities he engaged in all seemed to be steeped in his reverence and care for all those he encountered and for creation itself. His loss will be felt deeply in the Portland community and by me personally!”

His work with the Abbey was only one of so many ways Arthur manifested his reverence and care for creation. A gifted photographer, he was a beloved part of many communities in addition to the Abbey. He was resident photographer at the Bates Dance Festival for over a decade, hiding behind the camera as he recorded the creative processes inherent in developing any art form. The tens of thousands of photographs he took each season provided dancers and audience with an entrancing view of both the process of creating dance and the final product. Fink described his experiences in photographing the development of a dance as “a deeply spiritual experience,” akin to witnessing the birth of a child.

A longtime resident of Peak’s Island, Arthur and his camera were fixtures at literary and creative events in the greater Portland area. Maine poet Katherine Ferrier shared on his Facebook page, “He was so devoted to the communities he was part of” and loved to be “in the company of artists, makers, and thinkers.”

Arthur was also a consultant, coach, and facilitator, known for asking great questions that brought insight, clarity, and vision. On his website, he explained “my creativity and curiosity lead to insightful commentary and deep questioning, often helping people to see things in new ways.” Asking great questions was one of his many skills. He wrote “great questions require real thinking to answer, and typically expand the world of the questioner and of those that try to answer the question.”

The creativity, compassion, and insight that were characteristic of Arthur Fink will be deeply missed by the Abbey of Hope and all other communities that he touched with his grace. Rest in Peace, Arthur.

Fence photograph by Arthur Fink.

 

Emerging in Love

By Lisa Steele-Maley,

At Beltane, the mid-point between the spring equinox and the summer solstice, the gathering light and heat of the season are coaxing growth from the warming soil and nudging us out of our winter cocoons. In this season, we celebrate fertility and look forward to the growing season and harvests ahead. Our own energy, nurtured by a winter of reflection and dormancy and stimulated by sunlight and warmth, is also ready to burst forth. To me, this is love—emerging from the ground, blossoming in the trees and singing from treetops—swelling in my heart.

At the same time, we are preparing to emerge from just over a year altered by Covid-19, a year marked by grief and loss, isolation and fear…and also by incredible acts of generous and creative love. Individuals have stepped forward in countless ways to support one another, keep one another safe and advocate for one another.

We have been reminded that love is not only a disposition, it is a discipline. Love manifests in our daily acts of kindness and generosity: our work for justice, getting dinner on the table for our loved ones, bringing dinner to a lonely neighbor, holding the door for the person walking into the store behind us, smiling gently at the driver who cut us off on the highway.

As we take our first tentative steps toward re-opening, it feels useful to reflect on how we got here. I recently re-read a long list of questions that emerged last March when we first began to respond to the Covid-19 pandemic.

I do not have any answers, but I am sitting with openness, curiosity, and a strong belief in our capacity for change. Hope lives here. I offer some of it to you:

As we spend more time in our homes and local communities,

What bridges will we build?What support will we offer to others?What support will we need from others?

As we notice the impact of our lives on the lives of others,

Will we claim our participation in the web of life?Will we remember the legacy of survival that ensured our lives?Will we remember that we will one day be the ancestors in someone else’s story?

As we recognize our depth of responsibility to the interconnected human family,

Will we also notice our connection with all living beings?Will we notice our interconnection with the living, pulsing earth?Will we notice that we are, in fact, One?

The lily and tulip spears nudging their way through the barely thawed soil in my yard are a prelude to the new season. May we also enter the season as neophytes, open to the promise and surprise of our own unfolding."

—Excerpted from Arriving Here: Reflections from the Hearth and Trailby Lisa Steele-Maley.

In her actions and her words, Lisa Steele-Maley weaves together her roles as mother, daughter, wife, writer, and educator. Ordained by the Chaplaincy Institute of Maine (ChIME) in 2019, Lisa nurtures the fierce and tender connections between self, spirit, land, and community. Her writing reflects a strong connection to the affirming rhythms of the natural world and keen attention to the details of daily living and relationships.

Lisa lives in an aging farmhouse on the coast of Maine with her husband, two teenage sons, and a handful of animals. Her newest book, Arriving Here: Reflections from the Heart and Trail, was published in December 2020. Learn more at lisa.steelemaley.io.

Photo of magnolia buds by Francesco Ungaro

A Crack in the World

By Oggie Williams,

Several weeks ago I was hiking in Utah and I came to a long, narrow crack in the stone, what they call a slot canyon. It was four feet wide at the entrance, a gnarled tree growing crazily in the middle. The canyon went far back, narrower and narrower. The walls were rough black basalt, very old and very hard. I explored as far back as I could. I was looking for petroglyphs, those mysterious images carved in stone anywhere from two hundred to thousands of years ago by indigenous people, in this case Native Americans.

I found no petroglyphs. Not a problem, the canyon itself was wonderful. I returned several days later, drawn by the haunting beauty of the place. It was later in the day than my first encounter with the canyon. Light slanted in at a different angle. This time the canyon gradually revealed an astounding world etched on the stone walls: a galloping world of bighorn sheep, a bear or catlike creature, handprints, a row of figures looking like heads of grain or cattails, abstract symbols and designs. If someone had passed overhead on the stone ledges at the top of the canyon they’d have heard whispers seemingly drifting up from the center of the world: “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!”

I don’t know what the petroglyphs “mean.” No one does. Petroglyphs generate more questions than answers. That’s okay. It’s better than okay; it’s good. Sometime—we don’t know when—someone—we don’t know who—took the time, the energy, the imagination, the creativity, the faith, to make these marks in stone, to express, to communicate, to…? It must have been hard, all that time and effort in a shadowy crack in the stone. Centuries later, they are seen and experienced. They are not understood but they are appreciated, like a gift of cold water in a dry place: good news.



Oggie Williams graduated, with his wife Peggy, from ChIME in 2014. Until last year he worked as a per diem interfaith chaplain at Maine Medical Center in Portland.

Blue Ocean

By Sue Vittner,

As a child, my great aunts had a kitchen towel that said, "Let me look to far horizons where sea and sky are one." This has been a motto for much of my life. For me, "Blue Ocean" represents this idea. It is inspired by a combination of our beautiful oceans in Maine and the Blue Mountains of North Carolina.

I paint with my hands (similar to what we all did as children...finger painting). It is a form of creative spiritual meditation where I allow the paintings to almost create themselves. Magic seems to happen once I pour the paint on the canvas and let my hands be guided to whatever wants to be created.

Since I'm also a Massage Therapist, using my hands to paint is so natural for me. I love feeling the smooth coolness of the paint as I am spreading it on the pliable canvas. I get lost in the freedom and dance of this process. People tell me they feel deep relaxation and lose track of time while viewing the paintings....just like my clients say after a massage!

Sue Vittner has been making art most of her life. While in college she took drawing and oil painting classes, and then began experimenting with watercolors. She is also a massage therapist, and over the past few years has begun combining her two passions of massage and painting. Her desire is to help give people pause. She wants them to feel the combination of stillness and movement, the dance of life within them. She gets to live in Maine, where every day she is inspired by nature—the ocean, sky, clouds, and sunsets—which deeply influence her artwork. suevittnerart.com/

Blue Ocean, Acrylic, 48" x 48", by Sue Vittner

Ramadan & COVID-19

By Abdus-Salaam Musa,

Upon reflection of Ramadan 1441(2020) and the upcoming Ramadan 1442 (2021), Lunar Calendar, I remember that it was a different atmospheric vibe for me. I was not able to go out and visit my brothers and sisters and break-fast with them. I was not able to make congregational prayers out of some fear and concern for my health. I do not have the luxury of having a wife and children in my house to share this momentous time of bonding within the family unit. Some days were sad for me being in isolation and not having any family living with me. However, I knew that there were blessings in this time for me. Otherwise, Allah would not have placed me in this position.

Ramadan is a time for spiritual reflection and growth. One should be studying more Qur’an, learning about their religion. It is not just the time for abstaining from food, drink, and lower desires. We are Allah’s (God’s) special creation on earth. He has made humankind the vicegerents of the earth. We should always be striving to “go vertical,” getting closer to Him. Understanding that we have a mission on this earth not just for ourselves, but for all of humanity. Some of us grow to understand our mission while here on earth. Most of us do not learn the lesson. We get caught up in the dunya (worldly life). Never realizing that we should be leaving this world in a better condition than we found it.

This year Ramadan starts on April 13. I wonder now how my plans will have to be altered for Ramadan, since I’ve had an operation. My diet for the next two weeks will be liquid and the following four weeks will be puree. By then, Ramadan will be over, so I must concentrate on my spiritual evolution. What will be the best way to get closer to my Lord?

My goal is not just to become a good Muslim, but a Mumin (Believer). I will memorize two or three surahs (chapters) of the Qur’an. I will be reading more about the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) and moving closer to our Creator by learning the methodology he gave our Prophet. If Allah allows me to make it to see this Ramadan it could be my last one. Coming to this realization I must make the most out of understanding what it means to follow the path of Islam.

Abdus-Salaam Musa, is a native NewYorker who works as a supervisor, training individuals to become clinical chaplains. He is known for working in the interfaith community and has traveled to different countries doing interfaith work. Dr. Musa holds a Doctorate Degree in ministry focusing on pastoral counseling from an Islamic perspective. He is the President of the South East Queens Muslim Collective Inc. and president of the Islamic Indigenous Compassionate Care Inc. in New York City. He co-founded the first Islamic women's shelter in Queens, now known as the ICNA Relief Transitional Housing Unit.

Jesus and the Many Women

By Lori Whittemore,

I have been participating in a Bible Study each week with a group of women who currently reside in a county jail. I don’t believe any of the women are over the age of 40. Many have children. All are survivors of abuse, either at the hands of parents, partners, or both. The majority are there because of crimes relating to their addictions. Rather than counseling, rehabilitation, and recovery, we give them isolation and condemnation. Some have no exposure at all to the Bible or the epic stories contained therein. Others know it more thoroughly and take it more literally than I do.

It was particularly meaningful to spend time with them during Holy Week. Taking them from Bethany through Psalm Sunday, to the last supper through the crucifixion, and onto resurrection was humbling. We engaged with the story, in its fullness and its joy. They could relate to the abandonment by beloved friends, crowds turning against Jesus, and being crucified for the sins of others. Some of the women articulated the resurrection so clearly that the hopefulness of Easter was made tangible in ways that I could never do for them.

In this journey during Holy Week and with this Bible Study, I was struck by the Biblical women’s stories, such as the story of Mary, Lazarus’ sister, anointing Jesus with precious oils. While others scoffed at her “wasting” costly oil, she was preparing him symbolically and literally to face his death and resurrection. His mother Mary never abandoned him and stood at the cross as he suffered and died, never leaving him alone. Mary Magdalene brought cloths and spices to his tomb to attend to his dead body and was the first to discover that his tomb was empty. These women faced the hard truths revealed to us in the story. When other disciples abandoned or denied Jesus, these women accompanied Jesus from the beginning of this hard journey, through the horror, and then midwifed the Good News of resurrection.

In our Bible Study, we reflected on the importance of the women in the story and the strength that women had to have to do the hard work. Each woman in our group was able to find some meaning in the story. And because of our time together I felt a deeper connection to the women of the Bible and the women in our group. It is my prayer that our society reconnect to resurrection, redemption, and recovery rather than continuously punishing those who suffer in darkness and pain. It is my prayer that we all choose to share this resurrection tangibly with those who need it most.

Lori Whittemore a spiritual care volunteer for the American Red Cross and Maine Behavioral Health, as well as the founder and director of Abbey of Hope and Clinical Pastoral Training Center of Southern Maine (CPTCSM). Through CPTCSM she trains chaplains and pastoral care givers with today’s varied religious and spiritual landscape in mind. Rev. Whittemore approaches interfaith ministry from her Christian background and training as well as her interfaith education at Chaplaincy Institute of Maine.

Art: Detail, station of the cross, Saint Symphorian church of Pfettisheim, Bas-Rhin, France. Wikimedia Commons, public domain.

The Passover Seder: The Eternal Journey from Bondage to Freedom

By Joyce Zonana,

“In each generation, each of us should personally feel as if we had gone forth from Egypt.”

So enjoins the Haggadah, the “telling” that announces the order for the Passover Seder, a ritual meal and recitation that commemorates the ancient Exodus from Egypt celebrated each year on the 15^th of the Jewish month of Nissan—around the time of the Spring Equinox.

Because my family did personally go forth from Egypt, immigrating to the U.S. in 1951 when I was two, Passover always seemed especially numinous as I was growing up. And it still does today, as I plan to gather my dispersed family on Zoom—cousins and their children in England, California, Israel, and New York, along with my brother and his partner—to celebrate the eternally recurring, universal movement from bondage to freedom, darkness to light, winter to spring.

Part of Passover’s magic for me is its reliance on specific foods to symbolize elements of the story we tell and re-tell: matzoh for the unleavened bread our forebears hastily carried into the wilderness; bitter herbs to represent their suffering; salt water for their tears; charoseth for the mortar used in the bricks they labored to create. Ours is an embodied tale, a story we make real through repeated gestures of preparing and consuming these foods, identifying with our ancestors, reminding ourselves never to take for granted the freedoms we now enjoy.

I also love it that Passover invites personal reflection on and discussion of the meaning of this “telling” that has been handed down to us for centuries.” Its core remains constant, derived from the Book of Exodus, but interpretations and commentaries vary. There have been feminist and LGBTQ and Black Lives Matter and Justice for Palestinians Haggadot, each inviting us to reflect on the ways different peoples remain in bondage and in need of liberation. As we tell and re-tell our tale, we expand the meaning of “our,” acknowledging, incorporating, and joining ongoing struggles for freedom and justice.

It is from my family’s annual Seders that I acquired my love for focused, convivial discussion of a shared text—what inspired me to become a scholar and teacher of literature. In our Middle Eastern home, my father led the reading with the men at the table, always in Hebrew, that language I never learned, but which glimmered just beyond my grasp. My mother prepared the meal and set the table, making of it an altar to welcome the divine. Now that both my parents are gone, I’ve assumed both of their roles, preparing the food and leading the Seder. Ours was a household deeply marked by gender, and so I’ve had to learn—am still learning—to claim the authority once reserved for men. Such has been my own movement from bondage to liberation, from an “Egypt” of constriction to a “Promised Land” of freedom. That movement is never complete, always in need of renewal. And so, after this long year of COVID, we gather once more.

 

Joyce Zonana, a regular contributor to the online journal Feminism and Religion, is a writer and literary translator. Her most recent translation is Tobie Nathan’s novel, A Land Like You, a celebration of Jewish life in Egypt in the first half of the twentieth century. She is also the author of a memoir, Dream Homes: From Cairo to Katrina, an Exile’s Journey.

“Seder Table,” Reprinted by permission of the artist, Deborah Saltz Amerling.

The Meaning of Lent

By Fr. Gabriel Muteru,

Lent is a forty-day liturgical season observed by Christians. Its purpose is to prepare for Easter. It is a common practice for Christians to devote days of preparation before an important feast (e.g., Advent). These preparations are part of the expression of the Christian hope for eternal life.

Lent is symbolic of the forty days Jesus spent in the desert in preparation for His public ministry. He spends his time there in prayer and fasting in the spirit of renunciation. At the end of this period, Satan visits him to tempt Him from His resolve. By rejecting the Devil, Jesus demonstrates his commitment to the purpose for which he was sent: to save the world from sin. In the same way, Lent is a time for the Church to gain spiritual strength to continue her work of calling souls to sanctification and salvation. Members are called upon to devote time in prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. This will give them the spiritual strength to purify themselves of evil and to make a renewed resolve to work for their salvation in fear and trembling (Phil. 2:12-23).

There are many prayerful devotions practiced during Lent. Some are self-imposed such as daily Mass attendance. Others are communal such as Ash Wednesday, Stations of the Cross, retreats, and days of reflection. Frequent Confession and Communion are also encouraged. Finally, there are prayers specific to the season. All these practices give one strength in discernment and the resolve to be a faithful follower of Jesus.

Lent is also a time of reminding us that this world is like a wilderness where we fight two enemies, Satan and our own bodies. In Christian teaching, we are body and soul. Saint Augustine sees both as good, for each is a part of God’s creation (Gen. 1:31). Augustine further says that the bond between body and soul is healthy and helps us reach salvation if the proper order is kept; that is, the body must be at the service of the soul. Otherwise, the soul becomes subservient to the body, resulting in evil, where it becomes prone to desires that undermine one’s relationship with God. Lenten fasting and abstinence trains the body to be more committed to the spiritual life, purifying it from such inclinations.

Finally, a true understanding of our closeness to God is always tested in our love for others. Most of Jesus’ teachings focused on concern for the poor and the needy, including the sinner. He depicted final judgment as a day of reckoning for those who neglected to attend to the poor and neglected, who are the face of Jesus (Matt. 25:31-46). Thus, almsgiving is an important Lenten practice. It is a time of repairing our relationship with God by repairing our relationship with our neighbors. It is a time of asking for forgiveness by offering forgiveness. It is a time of purification, it is a time of grace, a time of holiness, a time of salvation.

Fr. Gabriel Muteru is the chaplain at Saint Joseph’s College of Maine. In his position, Fr. Gabriel serves as a staff member of the Mercy Center, a department centered around ministry, social justice, and community engagement. He plays an active role in a variety of service and social justice initiatives, liturgies, retreats, and provides an active pastoral presence on campus. Originally from Kenya, Father Gabriel has been in the United States since 1994. He first came to this country to complete his doctorate but ended up remaining here to do mission work for his home diocese, the Archdiocese of Nyeri. He has also worked for other colleges, most recently serving as an adjunct faculty member at St. John’s University in New York and, prior to that, serving as chaplain at Molloy College and as an adjunct assistant professor at Dowling College, both also in New York.

Desert photo by Ivars Krutainis

Vernal Equinox: Change Will Come

By Nikki Starcat Shields,

Spring in Maine is tricky. As early as mid-February, I start seeing mentions of spring in emails and articles, clearly from other geographical locations. “No,” is my immediate mental response. I know that even though the days are getting longer, actual spring-like, warm, blooming-things weather is still months away. Yes, months.

When thinking about spring, even in March, it feels like I’m pondering something that is promised, but not yet manifest. Part of me would rather cling to winter, my least favorite season, than get my hopes up too early. What can I say? I’m a warm weather person who is also in love with Maine, where I was born.

Early spring in Maine isn’t warm and friendly. To prepare for some of our past Spring Equinox gatherings, Quester has had to snowplow a path to the fire pit in our backyard. I remember one ritual years ago where all the kids wore snow pants and t-shirts, and dug benches into the 3-foot-deep snow to sit on. Other times it’s raining, with sloppy mud underfoot.

Yet there’s still that insistent call to optimism that comes with Spring Equinox. There are some amazingly perfect days. The sun is stronger. I can feel it on my skin. The songs the birds sing are different, now. The buds are beginning to show on the trees, and the sap is running. My best friend boils kettle after kettle, making her delicious maple syrup.

Spring is not my favorite season. It could be the allergies beginning to tickle my nose, or the ugliness of the landscape, filled with mud, half-melted snow, and dead leaves from last year. It might be that 50 degrees still feels cold to me, even though some people are already wearing shorts. Maybe it’s the inevitable April snowstorm, or the time change that messes with my routine.

And yet that irresistible spark of hope tugs at my heart. I’m drawn into the promise of spring, despite my resistance. The Earth is coming alive once again. The Goddess will bring back the flowers, starting with a single purple crocus in the yard. The snow will melt.

Spring will come eventually, whether it’s aligned with the astronomical date of arrival or not. I guess what this season is about for me, especially as it begins, is faith. When the weather turns cold or icy again, I take comfort in knowing that it won’t last. The wheel of the year will turn. If you’re sick of winter, hang in there. If you don’t like the weather, wait a day or so and it will change.

The transition to spring is much like life as a whole. Change is inevitable. It might not happen as quickly as we wish, or in exactly the way we’d hoped, but that longed-for change will come.

As we celebrate Spring Equinox, I’m amping up my powers of faith, and trusting that those blossoms and warm days are on the way.

Nikki Starcat Shields is an author, book midwife, and leader of transformational writing retreats. She's also a licensed Pagan priestess. Nikki teaches people to be Thriving Artists, writing their heartfelt books while also nurturing themselves and their creative lives. She lives in Hollis, Maine and adores reading, cats, and spending time by the ocean. She can be found at http://www.nikkistarcatshields.com

The Season of Lent

By The Rev. James A. Weathersby,

This is the Liturgical season of Lent in the life of the Christian Church. This time is usually a time of dedication to prayer and devotion to God. Fasting and denial of indulgences for a more spiritual life are also disciplines for the devout. This is a time of preparation for Easter, celebrating the Resurrection of Jesus Christ from the Dead and the birth of the First Century Church. This is the history of the Christian Church throughout most of the known world. However, there should be more to this festive time than sacrifice, giving up and altering lifestyles during the Lenten season. Isn’t there more? There are humility, compassion, and gratitude.

Pandemics, like Lent, have a way of humbling everyone. We are reminded of our frailty, and our expiration date. We all shall enter “that good night” (Dylan) individually or together. What will we leave behind? What shall we take with us? I propose we leave behind us compassion for others to emulate. I further propose we take with us an attitude of gratitude. Compassion will unite us in the cause of ultimate survival from the Virus. Gratitude will usher us farther into the future without fear or hesitation.

I am not smart enough to be prophetic or even relevant to address society’s faults. What I am is a man of faith and during Lent, I choose to exercise my faith in our Country, faith in our God, faith in our humanity. The Season of Lent comes with Ash Wednesday, which says at the Imposition of the Ashes on our foreheads; “remember, from dust you have come—to dust you shall return; believe the Gospel.” Dust is our origin and our destiny. Believe the Gospel, which says we are not alone in our journey of life. God is with us, as we walk this path…together. Pax

The Rev. James A. Weathersby M.Div., BCC was born in Chicago, product of a dedicated single mother and the Public-School system. He is a genetic Baptist and a historic Democrat; spirituality in his veins for generations. His family valued Education and the Black church; there are four generations of ministers in his family, serving as Pastors of congregations and Chaplains in Institutions. His Bachelors of Arts came from Trinity Christian College in Palos Heights, Illinois from the Reformed Churches of America tradition. His Masters of Divinity Degree (specialty in Pastoral Care and Counseling) came from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary of Louisville Kentucky, from the Southern Baptist tradition. His professional career as a Chaplain includes serving populations in Hospitals, Hospice, both Men’s and Women’s Corrections (Death Row Chaplain) in several Midwestern states. His time in Maine has included Chaplaincy at a Youth Development Center, Pastor to an island congregation and lately, Chaplain (II) of the State Forensic and civil Psychiatric Center. He has been honored to be married for 27 years and enjoy writing, yoga, and reading.

Grace and Gratitude, painting by Valerie A. Clemons.