All shall be well...

All shall be well.
And, all shall be well.
All matter of thing shall be well.
~ Julian of Norwich, 14th century Anchoress and Mystic


So, what do I have in common with a 14th century Benedictine nun, who was, by her own choice, walled up (read as: no door to the outside, and most definitely, no bathroom) inside a medieval church? Like Julian, I have felt trapped by my ill health. Also, like Julian, I have been given a window, in the form of my wonderful family and friends, with which to connect with the outside world. Finally, like Julian, I felt a profound sense of belief that all would be well, regardless of the circumstances of my cancer. Despite having had dark days (which I'm willing to bet would strike even the most optimistic of souls), I knew that I'd find the path again...despite a lack of light for illumination.

I just had my final check up today...and all is well. Am I completely healed? No, I'm not. I still have a heck of a battle scar. I still have significant swelling and am dealing with Lymph Edema. My bikini days may very well be behind me. I have every six month CT scans (which will need 5 days of pretreatment, given my new allergy to contrast dye). I have every six month exams to follow those scans. But, as of today, I no longer have cancer.

I am free. I am thankful. I am blessed. 

Destined to Choose

"The price we pay for having the freedom to choose (good or evil) is having to live with the consequences of other people's choices." ~ Sheyna Galyan, "Destined to Choose"

"Destined to Choose" by Sheyna Galyan is a truly wonderful first novel by a talented author. In it, we come to know Rabbi David Cohen, a Conservative Rabbi for a congregation in Minnesota. We experience with him the trials and tribulations of running a busy house of worship, balancing his work and family life, dealing with the counseling crises that come up and experiencing Cohen's personal angst that surfaces while trying to find answers to the major questions in life...as well as many of the smaller ones. Galyan tackled some gargantuan hurdles as she wrote this novel; it is approachable to non-Jews, educational for all readers and feels familiar to Jewish readers. The author has taken on the weighty issues of life and death against a backdrop of Holocaust (Shoah) survivors, as well interfaith marriage, pastoral confidentiality, Antisemitism, depression, and youthful questioning of one's background. In doing so, the author has created characters for whom I developed a true affinity and understanding.

As with any novel, I find it very hard to review it without comparing it to others. Initially, I began to see "Destined to Choose" in comparison to the works of Naomi Ragen and Dara Horn. Both of these women, who happen to be among my favorite authors, write from a Jewish perspective, and like Galyan, do not shy away from taking on challenging life issues using a Jewish world view. Like Galyan also, they do so with depth and meaning to every word. Although I was born into a secular Jewish family, I have been Episcopalian for most of my adult life. Reading books from a Jewish perspective has helped me to learn a great deal about my heritage and my own history. Additionally, I have learned to find a trail in literature to help me trace the path of my past. This past, of which I've known precious little, has been crucial to my understanding about who I am and where I came from. Jewish authors have written my past for me, leading me to the waters that nourish the piece of my soul that wants to learn more.

Additionally, I have to compare "Destined to Choose" to the "Harmony" series by Phillip Gulley. The Rabbi David Cohen novels will continue (God willing) and it is my hope they will become a series that parallels Gulley's fictional Quaker Pastor, Sam Gardner's ongoing struggles and life stories revolving around his ministry. Rabbi Cohen, like Pastor Gardner, have a cast of congregational characters I can't help but identify with. Having served on numerable church committees, I find parallels between the fictional small Quaker church in Indiana, the fictional medium sized Shul in the Minneapolis area and my own Episcopal parish in Maine. Both fictional places have caring, compassionate, funny, intellectual spiritual leaders, as does my own. All find themselves trying to be in the position of spiritual leader while being told, by their respective boards, to 'sell the church' to newcomers. I've sat through board meetings myself in which I could have taken dialogue, word for word, from either of these books and superimposed them directly into my own parish. What struck me, as I read both Gulley's and Galyan's work is how universal our experiences are in traditional houses of worship. There are going to be extremely difficult congregants who want to complain about everything. There are the inevitable loudmouths who gossip. There are those who are so resistant to change that their argument for not enacting new policies is "But, we've never done it that way before." There is also a sense of deep love, a passionate sense of community, an important view towards the congregational future, and a place of inspired spiritual learning. I smiled to myself, as I read "Destined to Choose", because I could have 'plunked' in my own church members for those who appear in the fictional synagogue. The similarities were striking.

Galyan's novel may have many similarities to 'real life' and to other novels. What makes "Destined to Choose" so unique is the fresh voice of Galyan's writing. She has a remarkable talent for weaving together spirituality, character development, educational asides and entertaining prose. This very 'readable' book challenged me to delve deeply into my own beliefs and ask myself the 'tough questions' regarding good and evil. Why does a loving God permit evil to happen? Is free will truly worth the pain it can inflict? Regardless of one's religious perspective, this is a novel that helps, not with the answers, but in truly Talmudic learning style, in teaching us to ask the questions...while still helping the reader find common ground. "Destined to Choose" is a wonderful book, and I look forward to the next one in the series.

Perfection

No one is perfect... that's why pencils have erasers. ~Rosalynn Carter

Like millions of other people around the world last night, I tuned into the 82nd Annual Academy Awards. Just as I have done for most of my life, I curled up soaking in the glittering surroundings, the extraordinary range of talent, the vast array of disciplines to master, the stunning gowns and the quality of excellence that permeates the evening. I don't believe I've ever met a person who hasn't, at least once in the lives, looked into the mirror, held their toothbrush and uttered the expression, "I'd like the thank the Academy....", in private. The Academy Awards represent the pinnacle of perfection to most of us. They offer us 'humble folk' the chance to peek in at an otherwise unseen world of glamor, drama, sophistication and consummating achievement. It's a night designed to recognize those individuals who have transcended the average and moved into pure precision of their crafts. I am always in awe...each and every year.

Yet despite the allure of Oscar night, I can't help but feel awkward for those who don't win. I cringe when the camera focuses on the panel of nominees and watches them plaster on 'good sport' smiles. The fact is, each one of them hopes to be the one taking the walk onto the stage to "thank the Academy". Each one has exceptional talent in their own right, and each one was passed over. It has to feel as if you lean forward off that carousel horse, reaching towards that brass ring with all your might....and feel that ring just slip by without being able to capture it. Do these performers wonder if they were less than perfect? Do these talented thespians ask themselves "Could I have done better?". It's a question each one of us asks ourselves every single day.

The pursuit of excellence and personal achievement has been ingrained into many of us from a very young age. I have had my days in which I have felt utterly confident that I have met every obstacle with passion and overcome each of them with sincerity. However, those days are few and far between. For the most part, I muddle along, making mistakes every step of the way. Instead of leaping over hurdles, I mentally think "Forget it", and turn around. Instead of feeling pride in the work I did, I see every error as if each one was painted with neon arrows that say "Loser!" in a computerized voice. I feel the failures in my heart deeply, particularly when I have let down those people I care most about. I don't wonder what my make-believe "Academy speech" would be; I can't even fathom how I'd be let in the metaphorical door with all of my imperfections. I find myself bogged down in regret, discouragement and misadventure.

Yet, there is something within each of us that inspires us to keep going. That magical, innate spark that dwells within, galvanizing us to pick ourselves up off the track of despair....and to progress forward. We find motivation in perseverance alone. We understand, metaphorically speaking, that sometimes it may be just about finishing the race, rather than emerging as the victor. In the words of St. Paul, in his letter to St. Timothy, "I have fought the good fight, I have run the good race, I have kept the faith." St. Paul did not emerge from his race with laurels, accolades or a golden statue. He was beheaded. Yet, he kept up his belief in the work that he did until the very end of his life...inspiring, extolling, exalting, chastening and motivating those around him. Was his life, and the impact St. Paul had on the entire world, any less because he was not lauded by his peers?

For those who are "heavy laden and weary" today, I offer you encouragement: no matter how intrepid and undaunted most people appear to be, we have all had our moments, or even our years, of doubt and fear. We have all wondered "Why do I even bother continuing to try?". We have plastered on that "good sport smile" when we least feel like it. We have fallen down, scraped up our knees but picked ourselves up with pluck and kept going, even when we know we have no chance at perfection. We can look around us and see dazzling men and women who have attained heights we can't begin to imagine. Yet, even the most secure of these people has had their own times of nervousness and reticence. Perfection is not about gold statues. It doesn't require a lack of mistakes or the absence of errors. Perfection doesn't mean feeling brave and heroic every instant. Perfection simply means finishing the race...with honor, with dignity, with humility, with faith and with temerity. Oscars to place on a mantel are a crowning achievement. However, keeping going, when you simply don't want to, is the true measure of success.

The Shack

Earth's crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God,

But he who sees, takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

It isn't often that a fictional story can weave exceptional theological, spiritual and literary threads together to create both an interesting read, and a work of spiritual growth. I had read countless reviews for William Paul Young's controversial book, "The Shack", for months before reading it. There were readers who felt it changed their lives miraculously for the better. There were others who believed the book was heretical and dangerous. There were many people who found themselves deeply comforted, and others who found a more exceptional and extraordinary meaning to their walk with the Divine. Still, there were those churches and lay Christian groups who spoke passionately against the premise of the novel, and urged all not only to boycott it, but to ban it from libraries and bookstores. Because I'm a woman of strong beliefs in my faith, as well as a woman of strong convictions against book banning, I was very curious about "The Shack". Would I be offended? Would I be horrified? Would I have a miraculous transformation for my belief system? Would this book create a "Road to Damascus"moment for me, in opening my eyes to greater understanding of God?

In the novel, Mack is a grieving, bitter and understandably shaken father, who lost his precious youngest child to an insidious serial killer, who murdered Missy at a remote shack. After turning his heart away from his surviving children, his wife and his friends, Mack sinks into an understandable, but deeply troubling depression. Mack is angry at God, angry at his own sense of guilt and angry at a world in which vicious crimes against the most innocent can occur. When Mack receives a mysterious note to "Meet Papa" (his code word for God) at The Shack. Mack doesn't believe that God will truly meet him at this symbolic and wretched location. But, Mack does pack up and go, not sure what his actions will lead once he arrives. Mack's journey is nothing short of awe-inspiring. Instead of staying in deserted, crumbling shanty in the darkest depths of winter, Mack awakes to a light filled, beautiful cottage on a stunning autumn lake. And God is making Mack breakfast.

"Papa" doesn't appear as the tremendous Anglo-Saxon judge of the western perspective. He's not an old white man with a beard. Papa appears to Mack as a beautiful African-American woman, whose love radiates from her smile, her eyes and her glowing skin. In my own mind, as was reading this novel, I pictured Queen Latifah as playing this role. However, as with any good work of fiction, the reader is free to 'cast' the characters in her own mind and heart. As we come to know Papa, Jesus (a Jewish carpenter from the middle East) and the Holy Spirit (an Asian woman, who is light of heart), our ideas of exactly what Christianity, faith and personal opinion hold are challenged. Mack is met by the Trinity, but it's a Trinity with whom he can relate, of whom he's not afraid and by whom he doesn't feel betrayed. Mack's quest to gain closure regarding Missy's death opens doors to him to help him realize that God is far greater than any given preconceived notion that humans have devised. Mack is met by God, but not the God he was expecting....Mack was met by the God he needed to see: the loving, healing, redemptive, compassionate and unexpected Divine. Mack was looking for anger, but what he found was forgiveness and blessing.

Mack's journey, in "The Shack", is the archetypcal heroic quest. Just like Homer's Odysseus, Tolkein's "Lord of the Rings" hero, Aragorn, Shakespeare's Hamlet, and countless others, Mack must go on a journey...literally and metaphorically. The heroic quest is defined as "as much a physical journey as it is an emotional and spiritual journey and a journey toward self-knowledge.", according to Joseph Campbell's excellent paper, "The Hero Journey". Mack must separate himself from the 'real' world, he must be given a 'call', he must reject the call, he must cross the threshold, he must endure trials, and he must return triumphant. "The Shack" takes the reader through each of these stages, but in unique and spiritual ways. Mack finds the unexpected, he dismisses it, he struggles against it, he comes to terms slowly with his journey, and he returns to his own world, still saddened, but healed. Where was a frozen, barren shack, transforms into a beautiful dream cottage.

I have long believed that although my Judeo-Christian traditions 'view' God in one way, God is far too large to "put in a box" containing the opinions of a group of men from long ago. God is transcendent beyond any labels we can try to fix on Him. God is not limited, but is limitless. Just as God has the exceptional power to transform "my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy." (Psalm 30:11), God has the power to transform the Divine image into what He sees in our hearts that we need at this moment. God can speak to us through our friends, through our family, through books, and through strangers. God is not confined to being an old man in white robes with a long flowing beard. By that definition, He is confined to the image of Tolkein's "Gandalf" or Prospero from Shakespeare's "Tempest". God is Divine and consistent in the love, compassion, devotion and unbridled healing that is available to us. But, what does He have to look like? I believe that the very nature of the Divine makes that question irrelevant...or relevant only to each one of our needs. God does not change. But, He meets us where are...and who we are...in order to reach us.

"The Shack" is a tremendous book. I highly recommend it. If you find it offensive or divisive, I beg you to ask yourself 'why?'. Although I did not experience a miraculous conversion, as St. Paul did on his own version of the heroic quest, I can say that "The Shack" broadened my imagination, and opened to my heart to ideas I had already experienced as truth. I hope that you will read this book and gain insight into your own journey.

Bathtime Reflections...

"Sorrow can be alleviated by good sleep, a warm bath and a glass of wine." ~ Saint Thomas Aquinas

There are few things in life that are more rejuvenating to me than a hot bath at the end of the day. The process of drawing the bath, choosing the aromatherapy scents for the evening, and just taking a moment to wind down can be incredibly therapeutic. I've learned that on days in which I'm particularly anxious or worried, a bath using Lavender, Jasmine or Rose oils can help me to fully relax, let go of the day's concerns and prepare for sleep. When I am overtired, and need a boost of energy, a bath containing Ginger, Peppermint or Lemon can leave me feeling refreshed, renewed and invigorated. During times that I have a cold or feel the aches of illness coming on, Eucalyptus, Hyssop and Basil have worked wonders. My time in the bath gives me those moments to reconnect body, mind and spirit. A warm bath can give one a sense of being reborn, and to step out of the tub with a renewed sense of purpose.

When my children were small, I remember bathtime having the same type of balancing effect on their personalities. Because I was blessed with two children barely two years apart, our home was a fairly chaotic one in the early years of their lives. They were precious playmates, building secret clubhouse forts with blankets and pillows. They were also adversaries, knocking over Lego creation masterpieces that the other sibling had built. They were the best of friends. They were the most bitter of foes. And yet, at the end of the day, no matter how angry my daughter might have been at having Barbie's pink VW Bug co-opted for a GI Joe battle, when the children got into the tub, began playing with boats and making 'potions' with bubbles and bowls, they were once again, peacefully united. I could always count on the fact that crying, hectic afternoons would morph into joyful, laughing evenings, thanks to bath time. The healing power of the warm bath became my safe haven, not only for my own use, but as a tired mother, who needed her children to find themselves refreshed.

Baths are far from a modern convenience. The healing power of warm water is universally accepted and lauded. Nearly every culture appreciated and cultivated the idea of bath time as being more than just a way to wash off the dirt. The Romans were masters of the bath. When we were in Italy, some of the most stunning examples of architecture we saw were those of the extraordinary Roman bath houses. These weren't place to pop in and out of for a quick cleaning. Rather, they were a social environment, as much as a healing one. The Romans created vast aqua duct and pipe systems to bring in fresh water, and heat it...decades before the modern, at home bathroom was ever conceived. Bath houses were places of commerce, places of connection, and places of time spent renewing oneself. There were bath houses for men, for women, for different social classes, and for different groups of people. But, all were treated to this vital, and positive, aspect of Roman life.

Is it any wonder that we, as human beings, find emerging from warm water to be an almost metaphysical experience? We emerge from the warm waters of our birth, and both history, mythology and religious traditions literally ooze warm water. The Greek goddess, Aphrodite, is said to have been born of the sea. In Judaism, a female convert must submerge in a Mikveh (a blessed, clean pool of water). For Orthodox Jews, women return to the Mikveh monthly as a symbol of cleanliness and renewal. Christians are 'born' by the water of baptism, as Jesus was baptized by John in the River Jordan. Muslims believe in the ritual cleansing with water, and that water is available at mosques before one may enter. Many Native American cultures used sweat lodges are a form of bath house, designed to purify the body from the inside out. The sweat lodge was a way to call forth visions, to remove all impure waters from the body, and was 'closed' by a dunk in a nearby river or lake.

For the majority of us, our evening ablutions have less to do with religion, and far more to do with unwinding. Our baths can help us feel refreshed after a day filled with activity. But, there is no reason to make our baths yet one more item to add to our "to do" list. By setting your intention for your bath to be a time of restoration, you can create your own personal sanctuary. In the fascinating film "What the bleep do we know?!", the writers suggest that our very words can change our realities, and our perspective. In one fascinating scene, a woman writes the words "Thank you" in the bottom of her bathtub. As she soaks, the woman is filled with a perspective of gratitude and well being. Whether or not our written or spoken words can physically change our state of mind, this exercise is an interesting object lesson. Our baths can, mentally and physically, improve our outlook, our health and, at the very least, our evening. Even if the manifestation of "thank you" is figurative, rather than literal, isn't it much nicer to focus our thoughts on gratitude for our lives, rather than the idiot who cut us off in rush hour traffic?

So, create your own reality by creating a special bath...fill it with warm water, a scent you can inhale with joy, and peaceful music. Author your own time of grace as you soak, and allow the craziness of your day to melt away. Even if you do not find yourself changed into a completely new being, perhaps just reconnecting with your calm inner being, can be change enough.

The Shack

It’s been a very long time since I’ve written about a book that has inspired me. Particularly since this is a blog partially dedicated to my love of reading, I hope to include one book every few posts. Yet, it’s been a long time since one made me think the way “The Shack” by William Young has done. I had heard a great deal of buzz surrounding this novel. Some people found it to be profound and deeply moving. Others found it to be heretical. I knew that, based on my own concepts of faith and experiential metaphor within faith, I had the potential of finding the book to be extraordinary. Still, when we set up our own expectations, for any book, any movie, any event in our lives, it’s generally the rule that nothing can live up to our own preconceived notions. In this area, I was absolutely surprised. “The Shack” did not meet my expectations. It turned them upside down and on their sides. I wasn’t disappointed. I was surprised by how deeply moved I was, and how much another person’s understanding, convictions and expansion of thought could be so much in sync with my own…while still challenging my own ‘independent’ ideas.

I am reluctant to give away much of the plot. While most reviews give a basic synopsis, I believe “The Shack” needs to be experienced with fresh eyes, with an unguarded heart and with an open mind. What I will do is to ask the question, “What do we truly know about the nature of the divine?”. I will go one step further and ask “Is your own image of God limited in any way?”. What “The Shack” helped me to define is the limitations of my own definitions. An expression I’ve often used when people ask about my broad love of God, and my discomfort with religious traditions who feel they have the ‘lock’ on what God is, is that I believe that God is far greater than “a box” of definitions. “The Shack” helped me to refine my own expansive and broad view of an eternal, extraordinary and beloved God in ways I hadn’t even begun to comprehend. Still, “The Shack” tackles the most heart wrenching issue a parent can imagine: the loss of a child brutally. How the author is able to create love in the midst of unspeakable horror is not only genius, but it’s extraordinary. This not an easy journey to read. There were times I had to put down the book, take a break and marinate on the concepts that broke my heart and fed my worst fears. Still, I believe, as the author does, that Divine Love can come out of tragedy.

Another question I will also ask is "What questions would *you* ask of God, should you encounter the Divine?". Regardless of your spiritual tradition, your upbringing, your beliefs now and your station in life, most of us have a level of curiousity about the meaning of life. We wonder about our own shortcomings, and how we fail to meet the challenges of every day life. We feel guilty about mistakes we have made, from minor infractions to grave errors. Even people who do not have a faith system at all, will second guess their own actions, perceptions of a situation that turned out to be completely different than one first believed. Therefore a better question might be, "What are you holding onto that you wish you understood more clearly?".

One of the major themes of "The Shack" is to ask questions of yourself. Too often we slink into corners of comfort, containing dark areas we'd rather not confront. Even if these bleak zones are places of great sadness or regret, we are far more comfortable with the 'known' than the 'unknown' areas of forgiveness, understanding, and moving forward. Releasing these long held dark areas is terribly hard. We've grown to feel safe within our fears, as odd as that sounds. I hope to continue to question myself daily. I am setting the goal of asking myself which areas of my life I need to illuminate, see what is holding me back from releasing these shadows, and then, giving myself permission to move forward. Before we can find answers, we must first learn to ask the right questions. Too often we don't want to know the answers, and so we don't even understand how to formulate the right questions.

As A. A. Milne wrote in Winnie the Pooh, "I find the best to begin is at the beginning." Go back to your beginnings of your questions. Find out what you need to ask of yourself, and of God. Only then can you begin to work on the answers. It isn't always easy. As a matter of fact, it can be terribly difficult. But, illumination can also come from this work. Most of all, forget 'religion' as what you think it is...and let go to find something all the more spectacular.

Change is very difficult. But, learning to ask questions of ourselves can bring freedom, hope and a true understanding of our authentic selves. Most of all, we can allow ourselves the knowledge that we are loved.....no matter what.