Separation of Church and State?

Author John Hendrix has been awarded a 2018 Illustrators Gold Medal for his artistic work and "The Faithful Spy" would clearly have to be recognized. His artwork and design of this book, quickly draws the reader into the life of pastor, activist, and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer. The art makes the book read with the fast pace a novel.

Bonhoeffer has been a keen interest of mine for almost twenty-five years, having written a dissertation on his life and work. Hendrix’s most recent Young Adult book is an excellent retelling of Bonhoeffer’s involvement in the failed plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler. Hendrix uses a blend of the graphic novel style with well researched history to create an interesting and approachable account of Bonhoeffer’s mixture of theology and activism. As a Christian passivist, Bonhoeffer’s decision to participate in the attempt to assassinate Hitler was an agonizing one and Hendrix’ account the pastor’s pain extraordinarily clear.

Bonhoeffer was a fascinating character on the European theater leading to and during World War II. He challenged the authority of his government and church; both which had become complicit in Hitler’s autocratic reign of terror. Bonhoeffer spoke out against anti-Semitism, racism, and the insidious intertwining of nationalism and religion early in Hitler’s rise to power. His part in the assassination attempt led to his execution by the Nazi’s. Hendrix’s telling of the story is straightforward and without bias.

Only in the “Author’s Note” at the end of the book does Hendrix mention any personal motivation for writing the book at this time in history. He writes that Bonhoeffer’s story “demonstrates how quickly a good and noble people can become infatuated with hatred. It is not a lesson for Germany alone…The line between national decency and a descent into fear and hatred is, and always will be, razor thin. Any nation that assumes it is too righteous to fall into these same sins will risk making the mistakes that Germany did in the 1930’s.” Such is fair warning for America.

One scene missing, however, from Hendrix beautiful book is the infamous picture of the Nazi flag draped across a Christian altar. The chilling snapshot more than reveals how far down into political darkness the church would travel to protect its existence. I wonder why Hendrix left this most telling picture out of book. Personally, I’m disturbed by the countless number of United States Christian churches that are willing to place the American flag on their altars. Who are they worshipping? On whose strength are they relying? What history might they be willing to repeat for the sake of their survival? I thought America was built on the separation of church and state and in God we Trust. Is that still so?

Hendrix’s book is well worth sharing with young adults and their parents alike. And anyone else who might need a reminder of what autocratic leadership looks like.

A Different Look at the Enneagram

The Enneagram gained popularity as a personality typology tool in the 1980’s. The Enneagram is a nine-point star-like figure enclosed within a circle. Each point of the star represents a particular personality type. Those nine personality types are then influenced by the types adjacent to them (wings), as well as the types connected through the interior flow of the nine-point star. Teachers of the Enneagram fall into two basic camps; those who promote the “narrative model” and those who use a “quantitative assessment.” The narrative model relies on the person studying the Enneagram to choose self-selected descriptors of the nine personality types in order to determine their “Number.” The most popular online quantitative assessment is known as the Riso-Hudson Enneagram Type Indicator (RHETI). The RHETI, currently uses 144 questions to rank order the nine types with a numerical value.

One of the critiques of using any personality typology tool is stereotyping or simplifying the complexity of the human personality. Author Jerome Lubbe’s book, Whole Identity, is an attempt to remedy this concern. His model, he says, brings a wholistic approach to understanding the personality typology of the Enneagram.

Whole Identity, is by the author’s own description, a “white paper.” This small book is only volume one to which he anticipates additions. Therefore, any final conclusions about the validity of his model are not possible. Lubbe, however, has made four fundamental changes to the use and understanding of the Enneagram.

First, Lubbe presents his model as unique because he says he has based it on neuroscience. He has incorporated an elementary model of the two-hemisphere brain theory and fused it with the Enneagram’s personality typology. To do so, he makes his second fundamental change.

In order for his model to work, he has turned the Enneagram 180 degrees to the right. The Nine-type, which is normally at the top of the circle, is now at the bottom. He makes this change, because he says, in this position the Enneagram now mirrors the brain hemispheres.

Third, his method relies totally on a “qualitative assessment,” specifically the RHETI, which assigns a numerical value for each type. He uses these numbers to determine not only the primary type, but also the dominate wing, and the strength of either the mind, heart, body triad. By requiring a numerical value for each type, Lubbe thereby eliminates anyone using the “narrative typology” method from benefitting from his model. In the Enneagram, whether you use the narrative typology or the qualitative assessment could be a deal breaker.

And fourth, he has eliminated the interior connecting lines with the Enneagram; the determiners of the point of “stress” and “growth.” The lines that connect 3-6-9 and 1-4-2-8-5-7. It’s complicated, but again, for Enneagram traditionalists this may be too much for them to bear.

I have studied both the narrative and qualitative methods of the Enneagram. I find them both helpful in my understanding of my personality. Having taken the RHETI, I inserted my information into Labbe’s model. His system put to use the quantity assigned to all nine types of my personality. His technique established a numerical strength for each wing of the nine types; something I had not seen before. And his method quantified the strength of the heart, head, and body triads. Anyone who finds that numbers and percentages would benefit their use of the Enneagram might find Lubbe’s model worth a try.

Jesus the Spiritual Alchemist

I’ve just returned from six weeks of pilgrimage in Ireland. A mystical journey across a magical landscape filled with a lyrical language interpreted by metaphorical poetry. We communed with old friends and were introduced to new ones—both the living and the dead. As in the past, I was invited to view my spiritual travels through the alchemical worldview of W.B. Yeats. In a moment of synchronicity, we were privileged to see a recently discovered 8mm film of Yeats burial, presided over the local Anglican bishop. For some, this would have been an odd paradox given Yeats pan-Celtic yearnings. But for me, it beckoned me to lean in deeper to the intersection of alchemy and Anglicanism as seen through the lens of not only Yeats, but the likes of priests John Dee, John Donne, and George Herbert. Out of this came my musing about Jesus as a Spiritual Alchemist. While I imagine there’s a lot more to come from Active Imagination, I thought I’d start with something familiar like the prayer Jesus taught his followers.

Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come,
Your will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
As we also have forgiven our debtors.
And do not bring us to the time of trial.
But rescue us from the evil one. (Matthew 6)

Looking through the glass of a spiritual alchemist, here’s one interpretation of this prayer:

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” This prayer follows the first alchemist’ teaching, “as above, as below;” as it is in heaven, so it is on earth. The alchemist used Jesus as the model for how they would conduct their spiritual work—they called upon God to guide and assist them in the perfecting of their soul. For the alchemist, this was a four-step cycle, which was continually repeated throughout life. That four-step process can be found in the next line of the prayer; a metaphor from daily life that Jesus often used.

“Give us this day our daily bread.” Our bread, our sustenance, comes from the four elements: the “earth” where the seed is enwombed, the “air” from which the warm sun shines and where the heavenly clouds gathers, from which the rain “water” falls, and the “fire” of lightening from which the elements of the wheat and the water are united to make the bread. Alchemy is a mirror of the natural processes of life; nothing more, nothing less, and always as obscure.

The first step, Nigredo (symbolized by the Raven), the phase of chaos and darkness; the moment when our hopes and dreams are placed in the womb; always with the risk of not knowing the outcome. The second step, is Albedo (the Swan), the light shines on the seed and germination begins; maybe the heat will be just right, or too little, or too much The third step, is Citrinitas (the Peacock), the seed cracks through the soil and new life emerges; but maybe the seedling will burn up, or wither, or be eaten, or hopefully survive. And finally, Rubedo (the Phoenix), the wheat is harvested in use to make bread and feed the hungry. Think of Jesus’ teaching about the seed cast about the farmer, or the parable of the tares, or his words that the wheat must die and how they apply to our daily lives. The alchemist used all these same metaphors to describe their soul work; some probably before Jesus.

The purpose of the alchemist’s work is found in the next line of Jesus’ prayer. “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” Alchemy is done for the sake of healing, first of our Self, and then others. To do so, alchemists must see the Christ in themselves, as well as everyone else, and everything. God is Present in all creation. God is Present in each of the four elements, as well as the one who harvests the wheat, bakes the bread, eats the bread, shares the bread, and receives the bread. The cycle is incomplete without each step and the alchemist’s work is never finished until each step has gone through its full course. Forgive us, because you have seen Your Self in us, and we have seen you in others—from forgiveness all healing can be manifest.

The final line of Jesus’ prayer can be tricky to interpret. “And do not bring us to the time of trial. But rescue us from the evil one.” Jesus said that if you sweep and clean your house of one demon, seven more will return. (Luke 11) In other words, instead of cleaning our house of our one demon, we need to make friends with it. In Carl Jung’s alchemical terms, our demon is our shadow and we need to embrace it. Our shadow can be frightening, but it also can be the one who brings healing. Jesus said that you will know him (the Christ) when he would be lifted up as Moses lifted up the serpent. (John 3:14) Paradoxically, the one who poisons is also the one who heals. Hence, the medical symbol of the caduceus. The time of trial is to deny that we contain both light and shadow. Our work, then, is not to rid ourselves of our shadow, but instead to work with our shadow as a form of healing our Self (two sides of the serpent). The alchemist strove to embrace the shadow by living a non-dualistic life; they worked to unite the opposites of light and shadow (both sides of the serpent), both internally and externally. They would make friends with their shadow by inviting it to sit in their circle of counsel. They would say to their shadow on daily basis, “today you will be with me in paradise.” The alchemist work was to comfort the shadow, quiet it down, and with God’s help, the shadow would become the alchemist’s ally and no longer an enemy (both sides of the serpent).

Not unlike the alchemist, Jesus’ teachings were hidden in secret metaphors; even the prayers he taught his followers. And the alchemist’s, not unlike Jesus disciples, spent their lives trying to unpack those mysteries. Guess that means I have plenty of grist for the alchemical bread I’m baking.

Science and the Mystics

The Feedback Loop of the Mystic by John Brighton
A Book review for SpeakEasy

“The Feedback Loop of the Mystic” is John Brighton’s valiant attempt to bring a contemporary neuroscience interpretation to George Gurjdieff’s esoteric philosophy. Brighton’s effort stems from his desire to give scientific language for his own paranormal experiences. He is obviously brilliant and erudite. This book is extra-ordinarily well researched, which it would need be for Brighton to achieve his courageous goal of a near impossible project.

Brighton is candid about his personal paranormal experiences as he explains in the memoir-like opening chapters. He is also upfront about his years of being a student in the Fourth Way—a system of self-development envisioned by Gurjdieff and his earliest students. Brighton’s goals for writing this book seem three-fold: 1) to bring neuroscience to Gurdjieff’s holographic worldview of the enneagram (to read this book you need to dismiss all you know about the enneagram as a personality typing tool); 2) provide a path to higher consciousness; and 3) create a modality for healing through the mind’s energy waves. My attempt at streamlining Brighton’s work is itself, meager.

“The Feedback Loop” could serve as an Encyclopedia on neuroscience and esoteric psychology. Brighton often reads like the labyrinth-like tales of Gurdjieff himself. Something which almost every student of Gurdjieff seems to fall prey, including his primary disciple Peter Ouspensky, as well the more contemporary Cynthia Bourgeault in “The Holy Trinity and the Law of Three.”

The three points I have taken away from reading Brighton’s book, are:

1) G.I. Gurdjieff “lost science” was pure anamnesis—remembering what he could not have known. Such gives brilliance to Gurdjieff’s work.
2) The convergence of mystical traditions can bring true healing energy to this broken world.
3) Our brain intertwined with the Cosmic Presence is powerful beyond imagination.

Fair warning, Brighton assumes you have some knowledge of Gurdjieff. If you’re interested, I would recommend A.G.E Blake’s “The Intelligent Enneagram.” Brighton also assumes you can remember an exceptionally large number of acronyms, without a complete index. His self-published book also evidenced a lack of professional editing. And a personal pet peeve of mine is his not using source quotes, especially Carl Jung, and an overuse of Wikipedia. Those two concerns raise a personal suspicion about some of the other sources he references.

Brighton deserves tremendous credit for writing this book and I’m glad I read it, though I would be cautious about to whom I might recommend it.

Remembering Michael O’Grady

Monsignor Michael O’Grady, beloved priest, spiritual guide, friend and mentor passed away last week. He died peacefully in his sleep in his “little house,” in Kildysart, Ireland. This was the exact place he told so many of us where he would choose to die; and he did, in the same bed as his mother passed years ago.

I met Fr Mike in 1996, when our mutual friend Marlene introduced us. My soul was in desperate need of weeding and Marlene knew the perfect person to guide the gardening. The first time we met, I wept, he listened quietly. After thirty minutes of silence he took down a copy of the 103 Psalm. He prayed it and then suggested I pray it everyday. I saw him once a week for a season, and then nearly once a month ever since.

That same year, Fr Mike would bless Cathy and my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Then he blessed our family’s first trip to Ireland in 1998. He gave me a few “Punts” to get us started. I still have them. Those coins carry Ireland’s Harp and well represent Mike’s blessed lyrical voice and soul.

Mike personally introduced me to John O’Donohue when the poet was doing a poetry reading in Phoenix just after the American publication of his book “Anam Cara.” Then years later, Mike, Cathy, and I would visit O’Donohue’s grave in the Canamara. We all remembered our favorite verses, Mike’s from memory.

While in Ireland, Mike would make dinner for us in his home and then the next morning celebrate the Mass at his kitchen table. He introduced us to what he said were the “real Ireland, the people.” They generously shared their stories and their Jameson, we drank deep from both. This morning, I see the faces of those people, his friends, his mentors, those he cared for—he is now with them in what the Irish call the thin place. Those spaces and places where the souls of dead and the living mingle. These places and spaces are everywhere if we are still enough to imagine them.

For twenty-three years, Fr Mike listened to my soul pour out my life before him; raw and unfiltered. He never judged, rarely offered advice, usually told me a story, and always, always, listened deeply. He walked me through the transition from baseball coach to college president. He held my grief and anger during the dark days that followed my exit from that university. He encouraged me through the process of becoming an Episcopal priest. We cried together when our mothers died. And we laughed together with joy when the holy grand boys came into this world.

I saw him just a bit before coming to Ireland, we both had a few tears in our eyes. We said goodbye, hugged and he said the same thing to me he always said in departing. “As Anne would be saying, say your prayers, and do your little bit. And be good to Gil.”

Two nights after Mike slipped away, he came to me in a dream. He placed his left hand on my head, blessed me, and disappeared. Now we walk together in a new way. I would imagine he has appeared to many of you.

For all of those countless people that can tell a similar story about their relationship with Fr Mike, and there are countless numbers of you; I would be imagining that we all will remember his gentle stories, his wisdom, his laughter, and his love. Mostly his love. Please remember, “Wherever you go, there you’ll be,” and Mike will still be with you.

Gaelic Camino

Morning, Day Four: Law of Three to make Seven.
Sun blistered wind,
Quarter way to summit War’s Hill;
Muscles burning, stumbling over the stones I placed on the trail;
Shoulders bending under my own burdens packed;
Chest gasping for cooler air than my own stale exhaust;
Eyes begging for level ground
I would not let be found.

Unaware, I fail to recognize demons as allies,
Mistaking them for ghosts of my ancient failures—
Pressing backward, running from my self.

Who is that hiding behind Crone’s Tree,
The shadow I?
Certainty feigned,
Defense sung sharp,
Pride denied.

Who is hiding under Quartz Stone,
My well formed gods?
Irascible commitment,
Transactional relationships,
Veiled love.

Who is that hiding between Raven’s Wings,
Trembling me, aching to flee?
Avoiding history’s trauma,
Denying pain,
Escaping Reality.

Though Demons despised,
Their haunting familiarity lingers as mystic clouds
Whispering wind wisdom through the Rowans, saying:
“Companionship we shadow demons offer.”
Their voices fetching me to risk
What the I of me
Fears to lose:
A crammed rucksack of masks...

Much lighter now,
Hand in hand,
My demons and I,
Lean into what we lovers are becoming—
What always was already;
The True Self of Us being one intimate soul.

The Grey Blue Ocean Melted Into the Horizon

The sculpted green coastline of western Ireland acts as a chalice rim for the grey blue ocean that has melted into the horizon of soft clouds. A gentle sea cooled breeze calmly refreshes the morning grasses. Two mares, one roan, the other speckled grey, nurse their colts as the seagulls awaken to fish for breakfast. The village is quiet, the work has not yet begun for those who will labor this day. And I am at peace with myself and in love with the one whom I share the bed in which she sleeps. If life where to end in this moment, with this vision of Mother Earth in my soul, I could know that, indeed, all is well and I will rest at ease for all eternity.

Strandhill is just a few minutes up the coast from Sligo, home of all things WB Yeats. This sacred ground has been the home to the those who most likely migrated from France more than 6,000 years ago. The remains of those ancient peoples still rest in mounds of earth and stone tombs giving testament to their astronomical genius. They built their monuments and stone circles over 3400 years before the Christians adjusted their calendar to match the mystical magistery of those who knew the divine intimately in all of creation. Here, atop the flat topped mountain Knockarea, Queen Maeve is buried standing in her armor, still protecting and providing spiritual guidance for all who walk in her realm.

To ensure such spiritual energy has eternal grace across all of Ireland, the Queen’s tomb, built 500 years before the more well known burial tomb of Newgrange, lies on the same meridian as the tombs of Howth and Tara (all a part of the Newgrange Triangle). These ancient tombs were built within concentric circles connected in triangles across the isle. Their builders understood the power of astronomy, mathematics and philosophy thousands of years before Pythagoras and Hermès Trismegistus penned their wisdom. Reality is knowledge and has always been magus for those who have ears to hear and eyes to see.

Here, in this isolated place, in this tiny village on the northwestern coast of Ireland, modern man has learned to walk lightly on the earth. The Irish do not feel ownership of this land, but instead, the responsibility of the stewardship of the gift they have inherited. These people are like the young colts lying in the pasture below; resting peacefully, mother nearby. The giver of life who needs the verdant countryside in order to nourish her baby. These two colts are the microcosm of the microcosm that cares for them—all a significant part of the Great One. No matter how small, the weak colts need the Mother One as much as the One needs them to continue to bring life to the field through their unbridled love.

The ravens overhead are reminding me that pilgrimage is in the present moment, for there is none other. The past’s currency is in the anamnesis, memory that transmutes. For I am changed by the present, knowing that such existence is all there is, all there will be. I too, as a weak colt, will gather up my strength and begin another walk of the Wicklow with fellow pilgrims. Living fully in the present, breathing in the mystery, the magic, and the knowledge that the Great One will share with us along the Way—I will live as if I have been buried alongside Queen Maeve; committed to the spiritual guidance of those who walk in the energy of the now.