Thursday, January 16, 2020

Cain continued and intensified

Today's first reading tells of Cain and his descendants.  Once again I'm stopped.  I'm struck by the way the best and worst of human culture spring up together.  Cain's offspring generate herding and music and metallurgy.  But at the same time, they move even deeper into violence.

Lamech, the great-great-great-grandson of Cain, boasts to his wives of killing a man for wounding him.  He says, "If Cain is avenged sevenfold, truly Lamech seventy-sevenfold." (Gen 4:24). So vengeance is the name of the game now, and the question is, how much is enough?

Later, Jesus will counsel Peter that forgiving seven times isn't enough; we need to forgive seventy-seven times, or even seventy times seven.  Jesus undoes the knot that is drawing more and more tightly around humanity.  He doesn't limit the vengeance, as the Torah will do (no more than what has been done to you, and eye for an eye); he goes right to the root of the problem, the assumption that vengeance will help.

Of course, there's a good reason for Torah rules.  What do you do with people who just don't understand that vengeance won't satisfy?  Sometimes all you can do is hope they will be content with "getting even."  But it's tricky.  My perception of what is enough, what is "even," may not be so trustworthy when I'm hurt.  That's why we need counselors, advisors, judges.  But once we've begun to relate to one another that way, it's hard to hang on to our basic shared status as beloved children of God.  That's why the Christian Scriptures and many later movements are so critical of believers taking one another to court.  By the time we need to go to court, we're already off track.  And yet, we can't pretend that we will always stay on track.  This dilemma has dogged us for millennia, and today I'm reminded that it's built into our humanity.

We humans are capable of great beauty and creativity.  We are also capable of degradation and violence far in excess of anything other animals do.  We can follow Jesus' path, but we also have the freedom -and often the limited vision - to follow Lamech.

Which way are you going today?  God, please help me follow Jesus.

And yes, I want to know: what was the name of Cain's wife?

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

Cain's story



This week the daily lectionary has begun again at Genesis.  We've read the first creation story, the second story, and the story of the serpent and the apple.  Today it was Cain's turn.

These stories can seem so packaged, over years of familiarity.  This morning I heard it fresh, or as fresh as I can.  Elizabeth is away, so instead of reading out loud at Matins I can sit with it and take it in at my own pace.

Here's what stood out for me.
Yesterday, after the serpent tricked Eve into eating the apple, God comes by and asks Adam and Eve why they're hiding.  They are honest about it.  God is upset and banishes them from the garden.

Then the next generation grows up.  Likely Cain and Abel heard the story from their parents - "we made a mistake, we disobeyed, and we were punished."  So Cain learns: honesty may get you into trouble.  He murders his brother - first, big mistake.  But then, when God comes by again and asks, "Where's your brother?," he compounds his misdeed by evading.  He doesn't exactly lie, but he doesn't answer.  As if he can avoid trouble that way.

Now, here's a twist.  When God asked Adam and Eve about hiding, did s/he already know what they had done?  It doesn't sound like it.  But God clearly knows what Cain has done.  So Cain's evasion not only doesn't protect him, it gets him in deeper trouble.

One takeaway for me is: there's no sin I can't make worse by denial.  There's no separation from God, from other people, from creation that will not deepen and widen when I refuse to take responsibility.

I wonder: is Cain's mark to protect him from others, or to remind him not to do such things in the future?  God could have killed him, or left him for others to kill.  God protects him, but by leaving a permanent reminder of his misdeed.

Some of us have those.  It's nice to think of Jacob's limp from wrestling with God, but many of us have marks of Cain on our bodies. I lost a lot through my early addictions - not only socially or emotionally, but physically.   And, as much as I might regret that, it does indeed remind me of the cost of separation from God and myself.

God wants to protect me, protect you, even when I need to learn a hard lesson.  And I believe, in some unrecorded corner of our stories, that Cain finds his way back to a relationship with God.  I believe we all can, if we choose.  The slate isn't wiped clean, but we don't have to be stuck in hell either.  Good news.

Saturday, January 11, 2020

After Retreat

It's been a very full few weeks.  After Christmas I led the annual 12-Step New Year's retreat at Holy Cross, then we had two days before we began our winter retreat.  Five days of silence in the house, except for praying morning and evening.  We plan out our meals, who is doing what, so we don't have to negotiate during the retreat.

This year we listened to a recording of one of Don Bisson's retreats, on Jung, Intuition, and Creativity.  Both Elizabeth and I are looking to ease the load of daily details in order to create ourselves and the community in new ways.  This means making space.  Sometimes it's a matter of not doing something I've been doing, but other times it's a matter of organization, how to do things in a more effective, ease-filled way.  I'm trying to look at email only once or twice a day, to give my afternoons more to the "details" that clutter my desk, to limit my urge to respond/react to external demands instantly.  It's so easy to feel effective by responding to minutiae!  Easy, but mistaken.

What do I want to make space for?  What I'm doing now.  I want - need - to write more, to create sermons, retreats, a memoir.  Yes, I said it.  I said it a few years ago and let myself get sidetracked, but now the memoir is in the center of my sights.  One way I can proclaim God's healing power is by telling my story.  And I miss writing.  So I'm saying it, again, and asking for your prayers.

Next week will be seven years since we began this crazy adventure.   That time was a burst of creative energy, a delightful blank canvas for us to dance with God.  Now, we are an organization of sorts.  We have ways of being and doing that can become routine, and shut down the creativity that we began with.  Our other Companions have gifts of creativity, and it's time to see how the community we are now will continue to develop.

Elizabeth and I each plan to take a three-month sabbatical, to learn what God is saying to each of us.  Plans are just beginning to take form, but I know mine will include writing.  In the meantime I'm looking for the pattern, and the discipline, to help me.  Please pray that I can slow down enough to hear God, and respond.

What do you need to make space for in this new year?  What might you let go of, or rearrange, to help open the door for God's whisper in your ear?