Thursday, October 19, 2006

Gypsy's Gethsemane

For those who don't know, Gypsy sent me a copy of the Al Stewart song and I have to admit at first I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Having made a jump from from Agnotic to Evangelical Christian several years ago, my first knee-jerk was to stiffen. Was it a ridicule? No, she wouldn't hurt me that way. A statement then? A tribute? A Lament? Let me tell you a story as I ponder what the song means not only to me, but to Stewart and to Gypsy as well.

Ponce a wanna time I flounced my way to school dressed in a pleated wool skirt, resplendent with crisp white oxford shirt and smart navy blue weskit. Yes, there were saddle shoez and bobbie sox to complete *the look*, not to mention the pale yellow golf jacket. The stitching on a small emblem (a Sacred Heart of Jesus patch) sewn just over my own heart was cut neatly open at the top, the perfect *Lace-made* pocket to store loose change for lunch. (Money shielding my heart from Christs.. hmm..). I was glad, no ecstatic, for the uniform. The oldest of five girls raised by devout, albeit poor, Roman Catholic parents, it provided me a hiding place from the fashion show of the public school from which I had transferred in 7th grade. I was the only one in the *new school* that knew without it, my social status would have ranked somewhere between last and nonexistent amidst the public school's Bobbie Brooks. The pain of 6th grade's repetitive two or three outfits and one pair of shoes, noticed by girls dressed in fashionista splendor, can still embarrass me. To this day.

Once captured by Catholic acacemia, I seemed bound to it from high school through graduate school. To top things off, I found myself joining the professional work force of Catholic Social Services and a Jesuit University following graduation, in that order. But for all those religious affiliations, nevermind instructions, here is the curious part. I didn't *believe in Jesus*. I'm not talking about not believing that He was the Son of God, or that He performed miracles; rose from dead. I mean I didn't believe He existed at all. I thought He, like Adam and Eve, Noah, Moses, Abraham, all of them, were fictitious characters cast in a novel of superstitious Neanderathal proportions. Nice moral *figures* the Church used as examples, or threats depending on your viewpoint, to keep control of its masses.

The effect of this was a deep internalization of existential emptiness. Fear. Fear beyond fear. Fear beyond loneliness. The kind of fearliness that leaves you laying awake at 3 am with nothing but the ache of oblivion and the ringing of an ocean in your ears. Like listening into a large conch shell, with no soothing waves to lull you rolling in and out from the shore. (I prolly have tinnitus from piping all that blasting music directly into my eardrums, hence the ringing- to me it always sounded like an ocean nevertheless).

Study the *lives of the saints* at the feet of priests and nuns who paint themselves as superior and you'll understand how insignificant, inconsequentional and inadequate a soul can feel. Before I left the Church I made my way through the motions of Mass and Catholic life feeling like a part of the waking dead. Not quite *bad enough* to warrant eternal fires, not quite *good enough* to merit the heavenly realms Mother Teresa surely would. My soul just suspended on a thread, hovering over hell, with God tossing about the idea of cutting the string just as I was performing one sin of conseqence or another. Empty, frightened, alone, with a seashell's ring wafting through my soul on long sleepless nights.

Then Gypsy posted awhile back and I thought I recognized a flicker of my own pain. Awake at 4 am. The ticking of a clock. The silence of the night. Afraid to give in to death, afraid to keep on living to postpone the inevitable. I realized how long it had been since I felt that fearliness. And then I contemplated the reason it's gone. Gethsemane. Gethsemane and the Man who'd knelt there
sweating blood as He prepared to sacrifice Himself for me had healed it. Soothed it like warm tea sliding down a sore throat. A soft blanket wrapped about me in a snuggly bed. A mother's arm around sobbing shoulders. And my heart ached not for me, but for Gypsy. The thought of her padding about her house, looking out black windows into a blacker night, wrenched me. *Gutted* as Neil says, I wanted to save her from it. What difference did it make that I've never met her face to face? That our lives have never touched physically and that I don't really *know* her? She is a person on this planet, with an angst I can vaguely remember. And that is enough. It wasn't until then I realized that the same Man who'd begged forehead to the ground at Gethsemane for a different outcome before dawn that night, knew how I'd felt staring at the ceiling in the darkness wondering where God was. And when He bled out on a cross with arms stretched wide before the next sunset, He felt the same way about me. About the soldiers that had nailed Him to it. About Gypsy. He wanted to pull me into Him and take away my pain. Her pain. I looked at Stewart's song again and saw it. The message. Stewart hated *religion* as much as I when I fled the Church to join the church. But he didn't lump Jesus into the hypocrites equation. He saw Him as standing apart, watching the circus.

So who is this Jesus? Apparently unlike what I'd been taught as a child. He's not accessible only through His mother. He's not judgmental like the two Christians I visited with last week. He does not stand on ceremony, is not impressed by fame, not foiled by evil, not touched by the death that used to send that cold existential sweep down my bed-ridden spine. When He wept it was in the context of relationship; grieved over the pain etched on the face of a friend, over the downfall of a city overcome by religion. He ate with sinners and loved the worst of the lot. He forgave me for not believing He could... love even me... that He would.

Perhaps it was Stewart who, escaping *Church*, described Him best. I wonder what it is that Gypsy sees in the words?

Oh I dodged the collection box choirboy and out
To the streets where the wind shook my hair with a shout
And the dusty-faced daisies were blowing about So freely
And Christ in the ruins was wandering again
As he walked with the beggars and talked to the lame
And danced with the children and sailors who came

24 Comments:

Blogger gypsy noir said...

LACE FOR ONCE MY MOUTH IS SHUT...IM EMOTIONAL RIGHT NOW...no words..your writng is beautiful.

5:38 PM  
Blogger Bex said...

Wow ...............
I will read this again tomorrow after sleeping on it - powerful thoughts and I can relate ............

Love Bex xx

5:48 PM  
Blogger gypsy noir said...

i read your post last night then went and hid under my duvet for a while its sunday morning now i have just surfaced...when i'm confronted with such loveliness and kind words it makes me want to run away and hide...strange i know ...i was so worried that you wouldn't get the meaning of the song, but boy you sure did and put it across so eloquently..no wonder you got published. I could never have put the meaning in to words such as yours...you have a wonderful gift and a lovely heart ..thankyou..x..

4:42 AM  
Blogger Alecia said...

Have a beautiful Sunday Lace - this was touching to read... and a lovely example to the woman you are.

11:03 AM  
Blogger Dale said...

Wow Lace!

What beautiful prose...
What powerful thoughts...
What a clear message...

I have strived to live my own life minus the trappings of ceremony and material things.

When I find myself surrounded by nature, that is my religion.
It is where I can look around, wide-eyed, I can pray and be thankful.

... for the daylight that follows those lonely nights where I can see only my reflection through the blackened windows...

11:14 AM  
Blogger Dale said...

A sense of humour helps, too...

11:15 AM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

gypsy.. i tried to post to you and bex on sunday but blogger wouldnt let me!

so here we are monday morning and i know how you feel.. i can shrink from kindness myself.. so i understand.. but i luv ya.. you are so creative intelligent and beautiful.. your pain reopened a fraction of mine enough for me to just want to take and sweep yours away..

know whats funny? i was worried id offend you with the message i was trying to convey to you! i am a Christian but really a poor evangelizer.. most times i dont go there.. i guess i am fearful that people will run off if i talk about Jesus.. feeling prostelized at instead of cared about.. or beaten over the head with a bible instead of introduced to a man that sweat blood as He struggled to get through that terrible night at gethsemane.. believers are supposed to represent Him in our flesh.. serving others with our hands and our feet in His stead.. but *Christianity* has done such terrible things *for Christ* i cant help but wonder if He *pulls a duvet over His head* watching some of the atrocities committed by *Christians* in His name..

i know i ran from Him for years between despising some of His followers and denying His existance.. i had a conviction that id have to somehow give up all the things i enjoyed in life if i didnt.. but there came a time when i just couldnt stand the cold existential sweats in the middle of the night anymore.. so i decided to investigate any truth there *might be* out there for myself.. it led me on a path from east to west which eventually got around to Him.. if i was going to be unbiased i had to clear my mind and so i stopped listening to the humanists who said He didnt exist and the *religionists* who were trying to convince me that He did.. i let go of the stories and concepts the kind of clerics He cant stand had taught me.. i stopped reading books about the *Book* and started studying the *original*.. i found out there that what id been taught was not the same as what i should have been taught.. discovered there was truth that stood apart from everything i had believed.. which revealed lies i didnt know i had swallowed.. letting go like that stripped away my *religion* and introduced me to a relationship that gives me a deep peace no matter how black the midnight.. to a man whose biggest miracle was not that He could make the lame walk or the blind see but rather that He could connect us in complete security to the God who had created us... by literally swapping Himself for our souls..

it took a long time for me understand these things about Him.. i dont suppose ill ever fully understand them all.. because He chased after me when i did NOT love Him.. when i was running the other way.. all the while i was committing those sins of consequence He was forgiving my worst moments.. like He did the soldiers while they were stripping off His clothes and hammering nails through His wrists... He was always there waiting for me to turn around and just let Him love me.... and when i relented *i* got all the benefits..

im not afraid im dangling over hell on a string anymore.. i dont wake up staring in fearliness at the ceiling.. im safe in any storm.. im secure at all times.. im loved like i love you gypsy.. just because i let Him in..


xoxox

~Lace~

2:09 PM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

::Hugs to Bex::

Alecia & Dale,

Thanks ::blushes and kicks dirt:: but I can't accept your compliments. A bit like Gypsy, they embarrass me, but more, it's only through being granted a gift and by being taught by Christ's message that I can go beyond my own self and know about such things. I'm afraid I'll sound trite with false humility to give Him all the credit, but in sheer honesty, He's the one who deserves it.

~Lace~

PS I can accept your well wishes and those I'll gladly take like a huge emotional bouquet!

PPS Dale, have you seen the pictures from the Hubble? We think God created a canopy of greens under which we can sit and ponder the beauty of His immensity.. the beauty of what's *out there* beyond our sight is just mind-blowing!

2:14 PM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

Dale,

I love your sense of humor. Gypsys too.

:P

~Lace the slightly irreverant~

2:15 PM  
Blogger gypsy noir said...

you could never offend me lace cause you a speak from the heart and i admire your honesty about you beliefs...i have a book i read years ago called THE JESUS I NEVER KNEW by PHILIP YANCY..(might dig it out and read it again)..it speaks of jesus as a man with his own faults, its very interesting and gives a more realistic insight to who jesus was..it says "why no one who meets him never stays the same"..well ive not met him but through people like you i understand the power of his love...he is about loving and giving. Religion is about power and control...the al stewart song hits the nail on the head, that wasn't a pun..to quote another beautiful song by cat stevens..called the boy with the moon and stars on his head...the last line is.."ill tell you everything ive learnt and love is all he said"...xx...

6:22 PM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

gypsy.. this time you made me cry.. paul once wrote "17.. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." Ephesians 3:17-19

its hard to fathom Jesus because of the crap fed to us by some religious that ignored Him as He is.. 2000 years ago He was calling them on it and theyre doing it still.. when i met Him.. the REAL Him.. it slowly changed everything including my once faultering marriage.. even before i met Him He knew me.. just like He knows you.. so if believers are His voice as the bible claims.. Hes apparently using me to speak to you.. if i model just one half of one ounce of one iota of the love Hes squandered on me to you now.. ill have lived a life worth living.. and if i fumble up somethin' jus' slap me upside da head (grin)

that book by yancey is on my bookself.. ive been meaning to read it myself.. maybe we should read it together.. do a *blog post study* together if you will.. anybody else can join us if they like..

meanwhile do you know i was just wandering thru my house singing a cat steven tune.. and i came to the computer to find your response.. the lyric you quoted just pierced my heart.. cat is awesome.. *oh baby baby its a wild world*

perhaps a quote from the little prince might also be in order.. *It's only with the heart that one can see clearly. What's essential, is invisible to the eye.*

~Lace~

7:00 PM  
Blogger Chaz said...

Its an absolutely fantastic song lace, makes me cry every time infact Gypsy used to challenge me to listen to it and not cry! LOL I still can't... :-/

5:04 AM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

Chaz,

It is!! The message is sooooo on target and tender!

I told Gypsy you are a knock out.. loved your wedding pics!!!

~Lace~

11:05 AM  
Blogger Delbut said...

Do you know what? I am really jealous that you can write about what you believe in like this. Old Delbut- a doubter at best - would LOVe to believe in something. May sound a bit patronising but it's not meant so... I have nothing to put my faith in. Perhaps that's the hole i need to fill?

Party on Lace.

3:20 PM  
Blogger Delbut said...

BTW.

I hope i haven't offended you over at mine with all that nonsense!

3:21 PM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

Aww Del. I was and can still have moments of doubt along with the best of them (although those moments now come few and far between). And you, my friend, are among the best I've met. You've got an awesome sense of humor and being the irreverent that I can be, find you delightful. I can't judge because I've been shown much grace in my own lifetime; I don't expect anyone to be something other than they are just because I believe what I do. Jesus didn't rush around setting up a religion and lecturing sinners. He roamed the countryside and met people where they were at, loving them until they moved towards Him and out of whatever pickle they'd been living in. Besides, if something does feel uncomfortable, I just wait for something that doesn't to come along to jump in and play. (Ahem.. Sister Faith?)

My journey into faith has truly been a journey, and when I said that I was agnostic I honestly meant that I was steeped in the same kind of doubt you feel. I can relate. I been there. And I know about the jealousy. I recall my childhood best friend believing with this unwavering faith as early as age 4; I was always envious of HER belief. She seemed to accept everything so easily, while I would nod convincingly during *religious instructions* and think to myself, *oh yah rite. How could some guy rise out of a grave from the dead. And walk on water. And multiply a fish to feed hundreds. How*. Later in life I'd think, I am a *professional*, an *intellectual*, I had an excellent education, I've *better sense* than to put stock in *nonsense*. But that was before I bothered to sit down and STUDY the Book that I thought was filled with nothing more than contradiction, suspersition and fable. Once I did delve in I was ashamed to admit it was my own ignorance that had kept me in the dark.

I left Catholicism in 1999. Six months later I sat with the weight of my conscience bearing down on me. I didn't realize then it was Him calling me, waiting for me. I was 45 years old. I doubted everything I'd been taught, and I lived with the emptiness you mention. It kept me up lonely nights like Gypsy describes. I too had nothing to fill that hole. But one afternoon unable to stand the tension anymore, sitting on the couch in my den, I finally gave in and took a chance. Took that *step in blind faith* right out loud hoping that He would somehow give me the answers I needed to stop staring at the midnight ceiling flooded with existential angst. It was what He'd been waiting for all my life.

I began to study His life, soaking in His message, along with Paul's explanations. What once looked impossible, with careful study, began to look possible and then plausible, and then finally probable. I began to read other books (Lee Stroble, law school grad and ex-journalist for the Chicago Tribune, who wrote The Case for Christ & The Case for Faith. Lynn Anderson, If I Really Believe Why Do I Have All These Doubts). I met some of the foregoing Christian apologists online, and I began to realize that some of the world's brightest minds (ie CS Lewis) had investigated the evidence and found it sound! Within the last few years the most influential atheist of the academic world, Anthony Flew, threw in the towel and announced a belief in a creator. People way smarter than me.. BELIEVED! But what changed me? He did. How did it happen? I read, now with an open mind. And He did keep His promise to me when He said:

7"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. 8For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.
Matthew 7: 7-8

~Lace~

12:13 AM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

PS it's late and I'm off to bed. Remind me to tell you how clouds played a part in this whole matter.

~Lace~

12:18 AM  
Blogger gypsy noir said...

how did clouds play a part please tell..

4:29 PM  
Blogger Cathy with a C said...

Absolutely awesome post!!! I, too, was raised a Catholic and went through many of the same feelings, thoughts and experiences, but you have expressed them so eloquently.

I now worship in a United Church of Christ, but am still forming my faith. I lost my passion for a short period of time when our church went through a division. The more fundamentalist members, who believed every word of the Bible was straight from God's mouth, left to form a new church and it was a painful period in our lives.

Funny how "religious" people (and politicians) will focus on the non-injury causing religious issues, like gay marriage, rather than on the plight of the homeless or stem-cell research or our destruction of the environment.

I'm sure God cries over the choices we have made and the actions we take in his name. I know I have.

Cathy

10:33 PM  
Blogger Dan L. said...

A most moving, and interesting post.

My best to you, on your journey to find the answer.

My blog, and my comments speak for me, in case you do not know. I believe in absolute sincerety, as well as as good history, and knowledge. That is me, nuff said.

Peace to you,

--Dan L.

1:55 AM  
Blogger gypsy noir said...

lace are you ok?...you havent been around for a while..hope everythings good in your world..x..

9:27 PM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

gypsy.. i am fine.. just swamped with work right now! ill be back online soon with an answer to your question.. and thanks for caring!!!

Dan and Cathy, hi hi and welcome... I'll also be posting some thoughts to your visits to.

~Lace~

3:01 PM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

Hello Cathy with a C,

It was a painful process for me coming out of Catholicism. Many of my friends and most of my family remain in the Church. I used to lament that I was not raised an Evangelical from youth, but I've come to a place of peace with it all and now actually feel grateful for the journey that God placed me on. It's what made me what I am.

I'm probably the furthest thing from a fundamentalist the Evangelicals got when I wandered in their door, but I have to say that I too believe that 16 All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness (1 Tim 3: 16). The more I study it, the stronger my faith grows, and the more I understand things that simply eluded me before.

Thanks for dropping in. I hope your pain has healed.

~Lace~

7:52 PM  
Blogger BlackVelvetLace said...

Hey Dan,

Thanks for the well wishes. I think I've finally found the answer. It's just the questions I pop up once in awhile that boggle my silly mind :P

I hopped over to your blog and liked it. Besides any friend of Neil's must be a hella guy.... :)

~Lace~

7:56 PM  

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