Another Fifteen Minute Powerblog
Up, Chuck!
I’ve had the stomach flu for the past three days. I do not recommend throwing up bean burritos. When I had any-time sickness with my pregnancies I kept a list on the fridge of which foods were easiest to get back up. If you are in danger of worshipping at the porcelain bowl, I recommend that you avoid the entire hot cereal family. Also, chicken corn chowder is not recommended.
When I Really Hate Religion
My grandmother is dying. She’s 82 and a recent stroke-like episode has sent her dementia into full swing. She’s never been a proper Christian. She’s got some distant Native American blood (Blackfoot, I think) and she’s always been pretty connected to the spiritual pull of the mountains. She told me more than once that when her time came she’d “go up to the mountain to die.” Since she can no longer drive, walk, or access her fairly extensive collection of powerful prescriptions, this options is pretty much out of reach. So she waiting – sick and confused, and frankly a real pain in the ass. So she’s at the end of her life and I don’t think my grandmother feels very comfy with God. But, I know she knows God, and most of the time I’m convinced that the God I know would be irresistible face to face. So I figure, Grandma’s going to be okay in the next life.
That’s what I think most of the time. Late at night, when I’m sick and exhausted and the sadness of my grandmother’s current state of living comes crashing down on me, I forget this. I forget that the one thing we know with certainty about God is that God cares about the creatures God birthed – that God is love. Instead, what comes crashing down on me are all the sick and twisted doctrines of hell that evangelicalism has passed down to me since I was but a wee little lass. Weary and sick and sad I question my more recent liberal convictions that none shall be lost, and I drift instead. I drift down the river Styx and into Dante’s land…to the back wall of the Sistine chapel…to the Simpson’s Halloween special. And that my friends, pisses me off.
What kind of twisted religion is this? Who would condemn a very old, very wrinkly, very sick woman to hell for eternity? That’s fucked up. It makes me, to put it very understatedly, very very angry. Unfortunately, when your neighbors are sleeping thirty feet away you cannot break an entire crate of plates in the middle of the night. You can, however, wake up your husband and cry and rage, and use a half a box of tissues. Then, when he falls asleep, you can pace about on your balcony and shake your fist at the sky.
When the light dawns, I’m back on my liberal horse and I’m feeling more hopeful about my Grandmother’s passing into this new life. I pray for a good doula, a skilled midwife. I hope against hope that I can be that in some small way. I light candles for my Aunt and my father who are in excruciating pain right now over all of this. And I laugh – because last week, my Grandmother got a tattoo of and angel. Eighty two and still hopeful. This is love, vast as an ocean. Amen.
Poor Saps
Katie, my neighbor, makes fun of Microsoft folks who walk around with wrist braces on their arms. “It’s like they’re creeping down the hallways just hoping and praying that they can keep working until their stocks are vested.” No soon had she said this then Paul got diagnosed with carpal tunnel syndrome. Yes, he is now wearing the dreaded wrist brace on his mouse hand. On Microturf, this is akin to dogs who have to wear those satellite dish anti-chew collars. My poor Microserf! Do pray for my love though, because this can be a very serious malady.
Circus Geek
I am wearing my circus geek t-shirt today, which might explain why Sally Pepper (that’s her on the left in the link) called to tell me that I have won a circus training party for eight. (No, I’m not kidding.) Cate and Eden are over the moon!
Right This Minute
Josh in in the kitchen showing Paul how he patched the ceiling. Paul is listing out the pros and cons of two job offers that Josh is considering. Tonya is sitting at the dinning room table drawing PacMan for Catie and telling her how to play Super Mario. Sharon is on her balcony blowing bubbles. They float down past the dinning room window. The redhead up the street is walking her Irish Setter (Honey) and she (Honey) is looking longing at our lawn, wondering where those two little tummy rubbers are. I am actually keeping my dinner down.
Time’s up.
I’m sorry about the flu and I’m sorry about your grandma.
Funny you should mention hell. I’m finally reading _The Last Word and the Word After That_ and am having some similar thoughts…what the hell are we thinking???
Thank you for your comments on your grandmother. When the time of someone’s death comes, it is clearly not the time to effect a major rearrangement of the spiritual furniture. The most grace is found in proper farewells and expressions of love - even if these are of unknown significance at the time. Six months before my grandfather (I only had one I knew) died, I had the opportunity to take him out of the house, out of my grandmother’s rather possessive gaze, up to a pub about 2 miles away. We had our first, and only, man to man conversation there - I was just 18. Three months later, with me back at University, he died in his armchair. Goodbyes to grandparents are also an important precursor to goodbye to parents. I hope all your goodbyes (and hellos) are filled with God’s grace.
i can only imagine you will be the just right doula for your grandma. your hands are perfect for that work and your soul knows just when to be still and when to rise up to meet the weary. blessings, sweet friend. lighting candles for you here, too.
Dark nights of the soul are when we usually find that our faith is a bit more tattered than we thought–and it’s OK. I think we can hang on because God is holding onto our little finger.
There are days when I gnash my teeth a-plenty at the conservatism of my religious upbringing.
Your grandmother is gifted with you.
Have you seen the movie “Big Fish”? If not, you should. Some of the messages of the movie are that our stories define us, communicate larger truths without exact facts, and allow loved ones to live on. It’s a fairy-tale movie, but also a story about living and dying well.
Much about religion is sketchy for me. But this I do know. The mistake we make the most is making God too small. We figure God has the same standards we do. We say the words of John 3:16 “For God so loved the WORLD…” but we don’t really believe it…we secretly believe we must earn our get-out-of-hell-free card.
I still think there is a hell. But I think it’s only for people who actively choose to put themselves there, who consciously reject God. And I wonder if there is perhaps still a possibility for redemption there for those souls.
So my hope for you is that you will be able to sleep easily without fundamentalist flashbacks and that you will be overwhelmed by grace and peace…that you will have the time and space to relax with your grandma and hear her stories (even if they are the same one or they get confused)…and that you and she will find plenty of things to laugh about.
Seems like when we look for comfort from God, there is always someone trying to use our neediness as leverage to gain power over us by interposing themselves between us and God and trying to make us jump through their hoops in order to get to him (or her, them, it, etc).
Forgot to mention, I got here from http://aolablogs.blogspot.com and I’m putting you on my blog roll.
I hope that your Grandmother pulls through, my grandparents are getting up there in age and I know this could be me at any moment. I hate to have to throw this in and all, but I want to know your take on a passage like Luke 13: 22-30. This is all about that narrow door stuff and knocking but not entering stuff. I take that as a warning, otherwise I think that I would not give as much an effort in following Jesus. I would take a Sunday morning approach like I did for the first 18 years of my life. Considering that I am now only 19, I have a ways to go to change. I know now that being together in a relationship with God is a 24/7 thing, and I intend on keeping it that way from now on. But I wouldn’t if not for a passage like the one in Luke.
Whoever it is that gave you the idea that your grandmother is going to hell, shame on them for trying to be God. If she has a true faith, which in James is described as one that not only believes, as the demons do, but also proves her faith by what she dose than your heart should be comforted. Grace is covering her then, because if she is a human like me, she is gonna slip up here and there. Or if like me, more than just here and there!
Peace be with you and I pray that God will comfort you and her during this time.