Category Archives: Deep Questions

Absolution.

Christianity, contemplative essays, Deep Questions, Deep Thoughts, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
 Absolution.
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This morning, John Paul Downey, priest to St Paul’s Episcopalians, exhorted his congregation in prayer. He asked God to renew our hearts to look “beyond our absolutions.”
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I heard this from my seat at the cello, near the pipe organ and the rest of the musicians. And, as is so often the case during one of John Paul Downey’s homilies, the Spirit set my mind to contemplation.
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On Good Friday prior to this Resurrection Sunday ( now so – called by the Church, lest we confuse Christ’s triumph over death with the holiday otherwise celebrated),  the atmosphere had been emotionally charged. Pastor Timm, of the high Presbytery at First Covenant, had embodied Christ on the cross like nobody since my own father, and was a much larger and more cavernous resonating chamber than dad could ever have hoped to be. My whole body’d reacted to his thunderous declaration of the Son of God’s final words:
“IT.IS.FINISHED!“
and, I’d spent the rest of the service in tears.
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But, “absolution”.
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After a brief stop for Russell Stover creme eggs, I came home and went for the Webster’s. First, the root:
Absolute:

free from imperfection; perfect; not mixed or adulterated; pure.

free from restriction or limitation; ultimate; positive; certain; complete.

And, then this:

something that is not dependent upon external conditions for existence or for its specific nature.
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Buzzwords come and go in our society, and I’ve lived long enough to witness many an incantation. Perhaps we can credit the talk show circuit for these trends, but somewhere between 1997 and just last week, the response: “Absolutely!” locked in as the only hip retort to any pursuit of affirmation. We had all become, for reasons I have no authority to cite, ultimately, positively, perfectly sure  – and, remained so for over a decade.
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But, “not dependent upon external conditions for existence………”……now, there’s a state.
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One of the most baffling aspects of Christ on the cross, as he had come to be recognized by Christians over the centuries was his having taken, upon the body he bore, the weight of all the transgressions of mankind committed against his father, God. Or, Eloi, as he’d called him from Golgotha (and, probably earlier, in the garden of Gesthemane.) Jesus had agreed to die in exchange for the entire creation’s absolution. Yes. Complete, total forgiveness. And, he being believed to be uncorrupted, was the absolute sacrifice – pure, perfect, complete, AND: believed to be holy and divine, not dependent upon external conditions for his existence.
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Now, I’m neither linguistics expert nor historian, but the source indicates that the term “absolute” first appeared in the 13th century. Thirteen hundred years after the birth of Christ. I don’t know what earlier thought evolved the concept, but its embodiment in the form of an omniscient God who, paradoxically, needed no body to house His Spirit was sufficient for me from my birth. Perhaps this is merely indoctrination (the source of any faith?) ; tradition, the result of its practices. Yet, I do have science on my side.
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Because, I also consider the state of utter and complete distinction, of total independence from external conditions. Apparently, such “absolutes” exist in nature, in chemistry and mathematics. But, when did we first lay hold of, and then depart from, a “belief” in Absolutes? Were there external influences affecting this? Can we blame Relativism for whole generations of entirely too much flexibility of position? Have we weighed both sides of every issue for so long that we can no longer come to any decisions that will hold up under the fixed scrutiny of finality?
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One thing seems clear: When we read the words of Jesus, we never find ambiguity. Whenever he is challenged, he responds with the conviction of inner authority. And, neither is he shy of leaving one with a question as an answer. He had a gift for knowing when to declare, and when to let a query be the impetus for further inquiry. Could this be because he knew the answer was absolutely discoverable?
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Father Downey urged us to look beyond our having been forgiven. I should be so thankful that, more than once a year, I am called to witness Christ’s declarations from my seat in the musical ministry. I should be so grateful that he still provokes me to search out the truth. Most importantly, I am truly and deeply moved to be certain when I have found it.
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Absolutely.
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© Ruth Ann Scanzillo
4/5/15  all rights those of the author. Thank you. Selah.
littlebarefeetblog.com

Wood You Help?

civic commentary, Deep Questions, ,

These are photos of my newly refinished oak floor. Even tone, surface texture smoothe. Three coats of oil based polyurethane later, these large gaps in the slats have emerged across the space. The workers have yet to stop by to see it. I paid them cash, in full, for the work – and, then, this happened.

Anybody out there with expertise in this area? What would you do next?

Thanks!

ExpressWoodGAPSExpressWoodGAPS2

littlebarefeetblog.com

3/26/15

Staying.

contemplative essays, Deep Questions, unsuccessful attempts to post in other bloggers discussions.., , , ,

Growth!  O

In 1993, I got married. I was 36. My husband, a sweet man, didn’t love me – and, I knew it. My mother adored him, because he was a.) blonde; b.) white collar; c.) his parents went to Camp O’ the Woods; and d.) he was truly kind and attentive toward her. The night before my wedding, I stayed up til 2a.m. crying my eyes out with my BFForever, Lisa. Mum had made all the gowns, the fresh flowers I selected were due first thing in the morning, Aunt Margie had made a two foot liver pate carp with paper thin cucumber scales for the hor d’oeurves, and all the groom’s relatives had flown in from California. I prayed. I told God that, if this marriage were truly ordained, He[God] would sustain it; conversely, if it weren’t, would God, please, take care of it?

Apparently, God did.
Two years later, Mum died of brain cancer, and my husband left. One piece of paper filed in the state of Indiana, 100 bucks, sign on the line, relinquish the Oneida and the PC/keep the printer, and done. Feelings? Null. Void. Mum was dead. Who cared?

In the years prior to and since that wedding, I played the whiner like nobody.

And, I was hideous.

Wenhhhhh……”should he stay, or should I go?” Was anybody listening? It’s a wonder I have any girlfriends left. Oh. Wait.

Here’s what. As soon as we find someone we care about, seems we get stuck on this notion of Staying.

Why? What is Staying, really? Stay where? in the house? in the bed? in the room? What?

Stasis. Cessation of flow. Or, equilibrium. But, the acute absence of: growth?

Symbiosis. Two disparate, living beings coexisting in mutual agreement. Is that what we want? If we stay, that’s pretty much what we’ll get. Stasis. Or, symbiosis. They’re natural laws.

Stop spending so much energy deconstructing. If you come, come as often as you like, whatever, aftershocks, cry a little, get dressed. But, after you come? Go.
Go, joyously, exuberantly, spurred by the experience of being together, as far and as long as you like. Then, Return. Return to that which brought you in the first place. You might find that you both want to. How easy does that sound?

Love, they call it – the force that draws us, repeatedly, irresistibly, magnetically. But, it’s kind of a circular thing, and we should just submit to its movement. Not like hamsters in a wheel, repetitively, endlessly, to dissolution. I mean, ever forward, so that we never end up where we started. No; far beyond that place. Letting the circle take us, until we become it. I think somebody else said something like this a long time ago. You’ll pardon my reconstitution. The channeling vessel, and all that.

There’s a lot being said about Space – making some, needing some. But, maybe space is just a place in the whole movement through the relationship. Maybe it’s in the center of the circle. And, maybe, if we come, and go, and return, there’ll be plenty of space provided for us. We won’t even have to ask.

I am now old. Finally. Irrefutably. Not degeneratively. Not decrepit, not shriveled. Not quite yet. Just of age. I’ve reached the finishing stage, and with very great relief, thank you. No longer interested in asking for, or offering, any kind of promise to stay that interrupts growth. Because, yes; even old people can grow, and love had better.

 

 

 

Love to all ❤ littlebarefeetblog.

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© Ruth Ann Scanzillo

3/21/15 all rights to this piece the author’s. Please request permission to share. Thank you!

littlebarefeetblog.com