Why hast thou, Lord, come to me?

Why hast thou chosen me to sit in thy courts?

Others more noble and deserving wait outside, petition in hand.

But I sit on a cushion at thy right hand, favored.

I shall remain silent in thy presence.

for even as in every moment that the psalms of the great king are in my mouth,

so is the jesu evoked, his presence invited---

unlike before, he rushes to me.

like a storm and a terror he is with me; closer than my skin to my flesh.

he is here, in his wonerful, terrible being.

how can his body be described?

how can this world, this universe of being all held into one body human be put into words?

he is awful in his beauty, eyes like flashing swords, arms like mountains high.

chest as the bones of the earth.

i rush to stay with him, but fear and worship his touch.

how can the g-d be this way?

and there is no escape.

'fear not, my love, for there is no other way . . . . "

Clare of Assisi Parish

I'm so pleased to introduce the newest Gnostic Christian community in the Bay Area (one of only a handful). Clare of Assisi Parish is right now a web-site and the promise of many, many of my friends to get involved in a thriving Gnostic Christian parish. We'll see where we take it!!

http://clareofassisi.webs.com/

Lately, my visions have been coming back to me. So in addition to the wondrous, fullness of ecstatic darkness, visions like those of two years are coming back, but shorter, more focused, more intense, more fleeting. I chose this picture really just because i like it. But, in a way, it captures the divine 'flirtation' with us. S/he hides behind many masks. It is up to us to ask for the dance, and perhaps, be bold, and gently pull the mask aside.

So much enjoying the Divine Office now that I am using the pre-Tritentine midieval version without the 'revisions' (cutting) that took place over time. I can see now why the cuts were made. Reading the Psalms in an adventure, and doesn't present a unified front, so to speak, on who/what God is all about. And that would be a good thing. Reading the Plasms is highly conducive to a Gnostic perspective on Christian or even Jewish spirituality, I think. We are forced to rethink in nearly every verse just what God is to us now--what was "He" then--what is this all about? We can take none of it literally--it is all on the emotive level. The experiential level. There is no doctrine here. It is almost anti-doctrinal in my view. If you wan to read it, you must be open to every emotion--and every emotion all at once. Sometimes I wonder just why they are written they way they are. Almost like an exercise for bringing certain students to a certain place. And, of course, that is the way they have been used these last millenia. But it is a challenge to get in 7 prayer times a day. I haven't managed it yet.

The Canticle of Habakkuk

This was in the the readings for Laudes this a.m. (I use the pre-Tridentine midieval version).

LOVE IT!

Habakkuk, 3:2-19

Lord, I have heard your fame! Lord, I have seen you work! In our times, let it live again! In our times, make it known! But in your anger, be sure you remember how to be merciful!
God comes forth from Theman, the Holy One, from Mount Pharan. His majesty drapes all the heavens; the earth overflows with his glory! His splendor bursts forth like daylight: rays shoot forth from his hands where he conceals his power!
Before him goes the plague; fever travels in his wake. Suddenly he stops short: he makes the earth tremble; he looks about: he makes the nations shudder! Then, the eternal mountains collapse; the age-old hills dissolve along his ancient path.
I've seen the tents of Chusan leveled by terror, the pavilions of Madian paralyzed by fear.
Is it against the rivers, Lord, that your anger blazes forth, or is your fury aimed at the sea, that you ride astride your steeds, that you drive your victory chariots?
You draw your bow; with arrows you fill your quiver!
Into streaming torrents you split the earth; the mountains catch sight of you, and it puts them in a trance; torrential rains break forth, and the deep lets its roar be heard, stretches forth its hands.
The sun and the moon dare not come out; they flee before the brilliance of your arrows, at the flash of your gleaming lance! In a rage you survey the earth, with wrath you overwhelm the nations.
You came forth to save your people, to save your anointed; you have destroyed the house of the wicked, stripping its foundations right down to bare rock.
With your swords you have run through the leaders of the warriors who stormed at us, driving us off with their shouts of glee, as if, in their dens, they were going to devour some poor wretch.
You marched through the sea on your steeds, mid the churning of the deep. I have heard it, and my heart pounds; at the sound of it, my lips quiver. Decay gnaws at my bones, and my legs give way beneath me.
Quietly, I wait for the day of trouble that will come upon the people who assail us.
For the fig tree will never again blossom, nor will there be any fruit to glean from the vines; the olive crop will fail, and the fields will stop giving food; the sheep will disappear from the fold, and the herd will not be found in the stables.
As for me, I will boast about the Lord, I will delight in God my saviour!
The Lord, my Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the doe's, able to rise far above the heights.Glory: Both now: -->
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: Both now and forever, and unto ages of ages, amen.

I called my Bishop today, ahead of schedule for our weekly meeting. How can it be true that the weight of my ordination as Minister can be such a weight upon me--I haven't even DONE anything yet. I was treated to his friendly laugh. He had been wondering when I would call.

"As all brother who have come this way before . . . ."

Thanks be to G-d that all I need to is let the pain work its way through. There is nothing I need do but suffer. Suffering is easy.

a pedestal of ebony seven inches high.

i sit on a cushion of ermine black.

my shift, cassock and surplice like midnight.

my chador, my turban caps, my veil, darker than night.

i am secure on my throne; a celestial body immovable.

to my left and to my right, silent, transparent orbs immense, enclosing super-worlds obscured.

i mediate. my body the conduit. 50 to the 100 to the 100 gigawatts flow through me

like unruffled air.

when i awake from my trance, i spin, i vomit, i wish to die.

only Myself to comfort me.

Today is the day. I'll be ordained as a Minister in the UCA. "Minister" for us is slightly more than Deacon, slightly less than priest (meaning I have all powers other than absolution and eucharist). I am so excited. It is a solemn day, a joyous day, a day that will be celebrated by myself and my Bishop alone. My friends do know, but this will very much be a private event. I feel in some ways sad because of this, in some ways relieved, in some ways pleased. It is a holy thing and almost I feel it SHOULDN'T be seen by anyone.

Well. Now a new life opens up for me. Of course, the LIFE is one that is lived regardless of vocation, etc.; I know that. But still, for me, it is a fulfillment of my personal identity, an event of such great existential import. I don't mean to be 'collecting' titles or 'states' or 'statuses', but still it is a vocation that is important for me and life-long. I have been soldier, lawyer, now Minister, and eventually priest. I feel very complete, but of course, not 'safe'.

As I shared with my Bishop, who agreed with me, the life of Holy Orders does not bring 'greater salvation', a 'better shot at eternity' or some sort of 'spiritual safety zone'. Quite the reverse, rather. I am far more vulnerable now than ever in my life--both from the vocation itself, from my own internal struggles, and from without. Thanks be to G-d that I have two spiritual directors, and perhaps a third, that are helping to keep me on track.

My only wish is that my family truly understood what this means to me, or could feel joy for me. I feel a little cheated: were I taking orders in a church with a greater official member roster, perhaps i would get more encouragement; at least people would be able to understand what the heck i am doing. As it is, few truly approve and fewer understand what I am doing. The scripture comes to mind: "The Sone of Man has nowhere to lay his head." Ain't it the truth. At least I can give thanks that I live in a land and a time where I am free from overt persecution. And I do know that I am, in reality, joining the ranks of all the priests of all time and of all over the world. So I am in good company, and a host of forefathers and foremothers stand with me.

My blessings to all on this day, and all your prayers are humbly solicited.

p