This World

Pope Francis — the first pope ever from the western or southern hemisphere — is certainly proving to be a breath of fresh air. His latest encyclical demonstrates it yet again.

[Read it here: http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/encyclicals/documents/papa-francesco_20150524_enciclica-laudato-si.html

For instance,

“13. The urgent challenge to protect our common home includes a concern to bring the whole human family together to seek a sustainable and integral development, for we know that things can change. The Creator does not abandon us; he never forsakes his loving plan or repents of having created us. Humanity still has the ability to work together in building our common home. Here I want to recognize, encourage and thank all those striving in countless ways to guarantee the protection of the home which we share. Particular appreciation is owed to those who tirelessly seek to resolve the tragic effects of environmental degradation on the lives of the world’s poorest. Young people demand change. They wonder how anyone can claim to be building a better future without thinking of the environmental crisis and the sufferings of the excluded.

“14. I urgently appeal, then, for a new dialogue about how we are shaping the future of our planet. We need a conversation which includes everyone, since the environmental challenge we are undergoing, and its human roots, concern and affect us all. The worldwide ecological movement has already made considerable progress and led to the establishment of numerous organizations committed to raising awareness of these challenges. Regrettably, many efforts to seek concrete solutions to the environmental crisis have proved ineffective, not only because of powerful opposition but also because of a more general lack of interest. Obstructionist attitudes, even on the part of believers, can range from denial of the problem to indifference, nonchalant resignation or blind confidence in technical solutions. We require a new and universal solidarity. As the bishops of Southern Africa have stated: “Everyone’s talents and involvement are needed to redress the damage caused by human abuse of God’s creation”. [22] All of us can cooperate as instruments of God for the care of creation, each according to his or her own culture, experience, involvements and talents.

“15. It is my hope that this Encyclical Letter, which is now added to the body of the Church’s social teaching, can help us to acknowledge the appeal, immensity and urgency of the challenge we face.”

Do take a few moments and read it. At least scan it. It isn’t long, and it’s full of meat.

This piece from Salon, which I came to by way of the morning Schwartzreport, is an example of ignoring – overlooking — the elephant in the living room.

http://www.salon.com/2015/05/21/the_catholic_churchs_american_downfall_why_its_demographic_crisis_is_great_news_for_the_country/

The article states, almost gleefully, that the Catholic church’s hemorrhage in numbers is good news politically. It assumes that the origins and significance of the most significant change happening in the West – not just America – are primarily political!

The West is ceasing to be Christian, as ancient Rome ceased to worship its gods, and in neither case did it have much to do with social issues. People leave churches – leave their religion — when they are unable to find what they need for their spiritual growth and sustenance.

I was raised Catholic and had to leave fully 50 years ago. It wasn’t because I disagreed with church doctrine on this or that. (In my experience, American Catholics largely ignore such issues in their daily lives, as can be seen in the scarcity of American Catholic families with three or more children.) Instead, it was because something within me felt I had to.

My life since leaving the church has been a long fumbling search for greater meaning, greater truth, greater spiritual relevance. If my church had provided me that, do you think I would have cared a fig about the hierarchy’s position on birth control?

Those who think a church can be successfully turned into a social-welfare group or a political-advocacy group are in for a crushing disappointment. Society is evolving a new form of group spirituality that will fill the gap the old religions can no longer fill. I don’t know what that new form will look like, but I know it is on its way, and it won’t be the worship of science or consumerism or “progress.” What it will be? Stay tuned.

If you have lived without friends, you know the value of friendship. If you lose your health and then regain it, you know the truth of the old saying, “if you’ve got your health, you’ve got everything.” And if you have lived a good part of your life without having a community of like-minded others who understand what you understand, and value what you value, you know the value of community.

My community primarily centers on The Monroe Institute. Those others who are drawn there are, I often say, my tribe.

A tribe is not a cult, and it isn’t even cohesive, necessarily. It’s more like an extended family. Families quarrel; sometimes they feud. At one moment, what they have in common may unite them. At another, they may be overwhelmed by their awareness of difference. (What child has never felt that it had somehow gotten placed in the wrong family? Since that is a common element of many fairy tales, it must reflect a deep psychological truth.) But just as Robert Frost said that home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in, so your tribe are those people with whom you are at home.

What I would have given to have had such a tribe in my lonesome 20s and 30s!

Long intro to saying, what I thought I would say in just a few words, how much I enjoyed talking to a TMI Guidelines group last night. It’s something I get to do only a few times a year, and every time is different and every time is similar. I went up and had supper with them, and then we talked – well, at first, and mostly, I talked and they listened, God help them 🙂 – for about three hours.

Three hours? Talked about what? Not trivialities; not politics or ideologies; not “what do you do for a living.” We talked about the skills they were learning, and possible obstacles on the way to learning it. I told them parts of my own story, mostly as illustration. I talked about Rita Warren and her contribution to the institute that began more than 30 years ago, and talked about what she was doing from beyond the grave to continue our education. Participants and trainers told of their own experiences, and posed their own questions, and interacted among themselves, and as usual, it all flowed together.

Wonderful time, as always, and a long late drive home in the residual warmth of the encounter.

TMI thinks it offers programs, and its consciousness-development tools such as Hemi-Sync, and SAM and the exercises built around them. And that is true enough, in its way. But to me, what it really offers is community. I never cease to be grateful that my life has been a part of it.

In 1915, like today, April 5 was Easter Sunday. My grandfather, making his way home through the snow that had fallen overnight, met the doctor on the street, who told him that he had another daughter. And so my mother came into the world she would inhabit for nearly 90 years.

(I am inhibited from giving my mother’s birth surname here, as “mother’s maiden name” is so often used as an identifying question, and I don’t care to broadcast it to strangers.)

A long life, lived entirely in one South Jersey town, among family and friends known her whole life, by rules and assumptions she learned early and never saw reason to question or rebel against. A happy secure childhood as one of four children. In order, Donata, Elvira, John, Joseph. She and her elder sister remained close to for her whole life, double-dating two friends who became Dad and Uncle Charles. Bridesmaid at her sister’s wedding, and then, two years later, with Aunt Nonnie as her matron of honor, her own marriage at age 23.

Then, several months into her first pregnancy, one day before her 25th birthday, a shattering blow. Her father, seemingly in the best of health at age 50, on his way downstairs to the cellar, collapsed and died in an instant.
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