Thealogical Lady: A Blog

Thean Psalter

12/14/2018

It's gotten a bit dusty around here, so allow me to fling open the shutters and warm the blog with a happy announcement: Thean Psalter, the fruit of many years of devoted prayer and a yearning desire for faith that rings with honesty and joy, has just been published by Thea Press. The newly published version includes many updates to the proto-Psalter I had made available in 2016. I invite you to take a taste for yourself with a psalm that speaks to the journey that brought this prayerbook to fruition:

Psalm 40

I waited for you, O Thea;
suddenly I felt you bend close to me, listening.

You lifted me out of my pit, out of the mire and clay;
   you set me upon a high cliff
   and made my movements became sure once more.

A new song left my mouth then,
   a song of unfettered joy.

Oh, that I might tell of your wisdom’s way!
   but it is beyond my power to describe,
   for it is different for each creature, every one of us.

As for me, I have learned that it is enough to say,
   “Behold, I come.”

In your book it is written concerning me:
   ‘I love to do your will, O Thea;
   your wisdom is deep in my heart.’”

Mystagogy - Thean Evening Prayer

9/4/2016

Last night was a turning point for me: for the first time, I brought my ministry as a Thean priestess out of the privacy of my family's house church and into the public realm, leading Thean Evening Prayer at Pathways of Grace in Phoenix.

My vision for Thean Evening Prayer was simple: it would be an intimate gathering for those who identify as women to pray together to God in their own (female) voices using feminine images for God and imagining God in relationship to Creation through a feminine, feminist lens.

When I arrived, my dear husband helped me arrange the space the way I wanted it, and then he departed so I could pray before others arrived. At 5:00, the time when prayer was set to begin, I was the only person in the room. I continued to pray, and as I prayed, I was surprised by the awareness that I actually wasn't alone--I was in the company of thousands of generations of women, women who had come before me, who had refused to be silenced or disempowered by oppressors, women who had imagined themselves and their God the way they chose, women who had loved, created, mentored and empowered girls and women within their influence. All their efforts, all their willingness to stand up for themselves, all their willingness to make a difference when they were told to shrink and be quiet--all of that energy had culminated in this moment, this hour, in which I was able to embrace my public ministry as a spiritual leader, a Thean priestess, a woman who wouldn't settle for the oppression that would seek to rein me in.

I knew going into the night that several women who wanted to pray with me were out of town. I knew also that several women who had wanted to pray with me had something come up at the last minute. I prepared to pray with my cloud of witnesses. I waited. Then a familiar face arrived, a woman who had prayed with me at our former Episcopal parish in Tempe, a woman who was preparing to lead her own spiritual circle for women. We hugged, we talked for a few minutes, I showed her around the rooms of Pathways of Grace, and eventually we settled into our seats to pray. I sounded the singing bowl four times. We stood, and I intoned a invitatory that I had learned years ago at my Roman Catholic parish in Cleveland, the same parish that ignited my love for liturgy: Let my prayer arise like incense in your sight, the lifting of my hands a sign of trust in you, O God. She joined with me in singing, and we sang it several times, letting the words soak into the space and ourselves.

We prayed the psalms next--Psalm 141, from which the invitatory came, and then a series of other psalms. Between each psalm there was a pregnant, full silence. At one point, I held my breath in between verses to keep my voice from breaking and tears from falling. Next time--next time I will let them break and fall.

At the conclusion of the psalms, we moved to the homily. I explained that in the Christian (and particularly Benedictine) tradition, Saturday night evening prayer was a big event, because it was the vigil for Sunday, the most important day of the Christian week. Saturday evening prayer was therefore when a homily was given, at least in communities that prayed together the liturgy of the hours every day. I noted that the homily would traditionally be given by the presider in top-down fashion, the presider imparting (his) reflections as seeds to be planted in the hearts of those around (him). Then I explained that in the case of Thean Evening Prayer, the homily was open to every person present, because a key Thean belief is that every (woman) has deep wisdom to share. So we shared the homily based on phrases from the psalms that had particularly resonated with us. Our homily was a mutual conversation in which we listened to one another and sounded/heard our own voices, recognizing that Thea's voice resounded through each of us.

I don't know how much time passed--time felt as though it was suspended, but I know from the content of the conversation that it must have taken a while. When the homily had reached an end, I turned to the next portion of evening prayer: the anointing. A bottle of oil stood on the little altar before us. I removed the glass stopper and poured a small portion of it into a glass bowl, inviting my praying partner to partake of it. I spoke of olive oil as an ancient healing balm, but I also spoke of it as the stuff with which royalty, priests, and prophets were anointed. To partake of scented oil is a sign not only of healing, but of empowerment and authority, specifically the power and authority to speak and act as one deems fit and wise. I said that it was particularly poignant to anoint the parts of ourselves for which we seek wise power and authority: the eyes, the ears, the mouth, the nose, the hands, the heart. My prayer partner and I dipped our fingers in the oil and rubbed the rose and clove scents into our skin, and then prayed Psalm 45 from the Thean Psalter, which included verses like, "You, a woman, are among the wise ones; grace flows from your lips," "Your leadership shall endure, for you love goodness and reject unkindness," and "Thea anoints you with the oil of gladness."

Thus empowered, we prayed together for those all around us, and lifted up personal prayers of our own. Then we stood and prayed a modified version of the Lord's Prayer called "Our Mother," written by Miriam Therese Winter of herchurch in San Francisco. We concluded with a collect prayer and this blessing:

May Thea bless us with courage,
guide us with her unrelenting love,
and empower us to answer her sacred call. Amen.

Our time together was not over--we stood, moved to the other side of the room, and talked over a small spread of food and bubbly water I had brought to share. We talked about our experiences, our faith, our friends, our leadership, our children, and our lives. We talked and talked until suddenly it was nearly 7:00--between the two of us and the cloud of witnesses that surrounded us, we had spent the two hours for which I had reserved the space.

I feel full: full of gratitude, full of joy, full of wisdom, full of holy power. This gathering was and wasn't about me. It was about me as a woman who has been on a journey all her life to arrive at the moment of taking up her life's vocation. It was about every woman who has ever done the same or sought to do the same. It was about every young girl who is figuring out who she wants to be, and it is about countless generations of women still to come who will change and lead this world for the better, overcoming oppressions and embracing who they see in the mirror as living icons of the Holy One.

For a free e-copy of the Thean Psalter, send me a note with your e-mail address. If you'd like a print copy, you can send $10 and your name and address via PayPal to me at lifeloveliturgy at gmail dot com. If you self-identify as a woman and would like to take part in future gatherings of Thean Evening Prayer at Pathways of Grace, we meet every first Saturday of the month at 5:00, and you can RSVP on the Pathways of Grace meetup.com page.

Praying with the Thean Book of Psalms

8/24/2016

This morning, my older daughter and I cleared our dining room table. I invited her to bring out my lidded white candle and my sparkling, pale purple quartz. "What are you doing?" she asked as I opened the lid of the candle. I said nothing, setting the lid next to the candle, placing the quartz chunk inside it, and lighting the candle with a match. I opened my Thean Psalter to the section marked "Twenty-fourth Day: Morning Prayer." I asked my daughter if she was ready, and she said yes. I proceeded to pray the appointed psalms, 116-118, in a lively, lilting voice, making eye contact with her and slowing my words at important phrases. At the end of the final psalm, I said, "Amen," and she repeated it after me. I invited her to blow out the candle, and we collapsed in giggles as she blew and blew at the flame, to no avail. Thean light is not easily extinguished, she discovered.

After I walked my older daughter to school and drove my husband to work, my younger daughter and I met with a friend of mine who's heading off for rabbinical studies this fall. She wanted a copy of the print version of the Thean Psalter. As soon as I gave it to her, she began adding thin plastic tabs to it; she also oohed and aahed over the purple cardstock title page, the color of which was her favorite. Her excitement as she explored the Psalter's words mirrored my own, and I couldn't help grinning as I watched her. She asked which of the psalms were my favorites, and I pointed out Psalm 23, which reimagines the relationship between G-d and psalmist, moving from shepherd/sheep to mutually curious, passionate lovers who are, among other things, equals.

This Psalter represents Thean thealogical thought, which is feminist and feminine, egalitarian, pacifist, and creation-centric. Patriarchal structures/images as well as themes of violence and vengeance are challenged, eliminated, or transformed.

The e-copy of this finalized Thean Psalter is available for free to all who request it. The hard copy, which is laser-printed on high quality white paper and purple cardstock and comb-bound with a black spine in clear plastic front and back covers, is available for $10USD, payable via PayPal, with free shipping anywhere in the continental United States. I plan to make hard copies of the Thean Psalter available each first Saturday of the month at Thean Evening Prayer, where all who identify as women are welcome to pray.

Psalm 139

7/29/2016

Psalm 139

Thea, you search me out and you know me;
   you know my sitting down and my rising up;
   you discern the pattern of my thoughts.

You trace my journeys and my resting-places
   and are acquainted with all my ways.

Indeed, there is not a word on my lips
   that you, O Thea, do not know.

You journey behind, before, and beside me,
   and you lay your hand upon me in blessing.

Where can I go then from your Ruach?
    where can I flee from your presence?

If I climb to the heavens, you are there;
   if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.

If I take the wings of the morning
   and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

Even there your hand will lead me
   and your hands hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will cover me,
   and the light around me turn to night,”

Darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day;
   darkness and light to you are both alike.

For you yourself created my inmost parts;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I will thank you because I am marvelously made;
   all your works are wonders to behold.

My body was not hidden from you,
   while I was being made in secret
   and woven in the depths.

Your eyes beheld my limbs, yet unfinished in the womb;
all of them were already written in your book;
   they were fashioned day by day,
   when as yet there was none of them.

How deep I find your thoughts, O Thea!
   how great is the sum of them!

If I were to count them, they would be more in number than the sand;
   to count them all, my life span would need to be like yours.

Search me, O Thea, and know my heart;
   lead me in your wisdom’s way.

Psalm 109: A Transformation

7/22/2016

I rarely post on Thealogical Lady twice in one day, but the psalms from both morning and evening prayer today merited attention. I invite you to compare the NIV version of Psalm 109 (see below on the left) with my Thean transformation of it, which I finished just today (see below on the right).

Psalm 109

My God, whom I praise,
    do not remain silent,

for people who are wicked and deceitful
    have opened their mouths against me;
    they have spoken against me with lying tongues.

With words of hatred they surround me;
    they attack me without cause.

In return for my friendship they accuse me,
    but I am a man of prayer.

They repay me evil for good,
    and hatred for my friendship.

Appoint someone evil to oppose my enemy;
    let an accuser stand at his right hand.

When he is tried, let him be found guilty,
    and may his prayers condemn him.

May his days be few;
    may another take his place of leadership.

May his children be fatherless
    and his wife a widow.

May his children be wandering beggars;
    may they be driven from their ruined homes.

May a creditor seize all he has;
    may strangers plunder the fruits of his labor.

May no one extend kindness to him
    or take pity on his fatherless children.

May his descendants be cut off,
    their names blotted out from the next generation.

May the iniquity of his fathers be remembered before the Lord;
    may the sin of his mother never be blotted out.

May their sins always remain before the Lord,
    that he may blot out their name from the earth.

For he never thought of doing a kindness,
    but hounded to death the poor
    and the needy and the brokenhearted.

He loved to pronounce a curse--
    may it come back on him.
He found no pleasure in blessing--
    may it be far from him.

He wore cursing as his garment;
    it entered into his body like water,
    into his bones like oil.

May it be like a cloak wrapped about him,
    like a belt tied forever around him.

May this be the Lord’s payment to my accusers,
    to those who speak evil of me.

But you, Sovereign Lord,
    help me for your name’s sake;
    out of the goodness of your love, deliver me.

For I am poor and needy,
    and my heart is wounded within me.

I fade away like an evening shadow;
    I am shaken off like a locust.

My knees give way from fasting;
    my body is thin and gaunt.

I am an object of scorn to my accusers;
    when they see me, they shake their heads.

Help me, Lord my God;
    save me according to your unfailing love.

Let them know that it is your hand,
    that you, Lord, have done it.

While they curse, may you bless;
    may those who attack me be put to shame,
    but may your servant rejoice.

May my accusers be clothed with disgrace
    and wrapped in shame as in a cloak.

With my mouth I will greatly extol the Lord;
    in the great throng of worshipers I will praise him.

For he stands at the right hand of the needy,
    to save their lives from those who would condemn them.

Psalm 109

Do not fail to act, O Thea,
   while the mouth of the one who hates me is opened against me.

She speaks to me with a lying tongue;
   she surrounds me with hateful words
   and fights against me without a cause.

Despite my love, she accuses me;
   but as for me, I pray that your love will envelop her.

She repays evil for good,
   and hatred for my love.

She does not remember to show mercy,
   but persecutes the poor and needy
   and seeks to destroy the brokenhearted.

She loves cursing,
but let it not come upon her;
   she takes no delight in blessing,
   but let it shower upon her.

She wears cursing like a garment,
   let it not soak into her body like water
   or into her bones like oil;

Let it not be to her like the cloak which she wraps around herself,
   and like the belt that she wears continually.

O Thea my Goddess,
   for your tender mercy’s sake, deliver her.

For she is poor and needy,
   and her heart is wounded within her.

She has faded away like a shadow when it lengthens;
   she is shaken off like a locust.

Her knees are weak,
   and her flesh is wasted and gaunt.

She has become a reproach to all around her;
   they see and shake their heads.

Help her, O Thea my Goddess;
   save her for your mercy’s sake.

She may curse, but you will bless;
   give her cause to rejoice once more.

Then I will give great thanks to you with my mouth;
   in the midst of the multitude I will praise you;

Because you stand beside the one who is most needy,
   to save her from her own stony heart.

Psalm 107 and Pelagius

7/22/2016

During my prayer today, I rewrote Psalm 107. This took me the better part of two hours--a considerable amount of time compared to what I've spent on other individual psalms. I think it required extra time because what I wanted it to say reminded me of a Christian heresy called Pelagianism, which basically says that we human beings have what we need within ourselves to attain/earn salvation--no extra help from God (via the Christ) necessary.

The difference between Christian and Thean thought here is twofold: first, according to Theanism, salvation is not something that human beings (or Creation at large) need--there is no doctrine of "Original Sin" in Theanism. Theanism claims that we are not now nor have we ever been nor could we ever be separate from Thea, even when we do wrong or commit evil deeds. Thea's love is stronger than any individual's or community's ability to do wrong--Thea's love, which binds all Creatures together as her Sacred Body, can never be torn apart.

Second, according to Theanism, all Creatures are Thea's Incarnation. Whereas Christianity requires God's Word to be made incarnate in a single, sinless man who is sacrificed by death on a cross for the world's salvation, Theanism says that we--all of us--are Thea. Therefore we are individually and collectively all we will ever need to fulfill our ultimate purpose, which is to love and bear witness to one another, particularly by answering the passion that stirs deepest within our hearts, no matter what obstacles lay before or around or beneath or behind us. When we experience fear, doubt, or distress, as the people in Psalm 107 do, we only need to remember who we are: Thea's Sacred Body, capable of fulfilling our destiny to love if we can just turn inward to remember that love is the stuff we're made of.

Psalm 107

Give thanks to Thea, for her love is a holy flame
   that burns brightly within her Creatures.

Some wander in the desert,
   finding no way to a city where their hearts might dwell.

They hunger and thirst;
   their flesh languishes.

Then they look within themselves for Thea’s help,
   and their divine fire melts their icy fear;

Thea thus puts their feet on a straight path
   to go to a city where they might dwell.

Some sit in darkness and deep gloom,
   bound fast in misery and iron;

They are humbled with difficult work;
   they stumble, and find none to help.

Then they look within themselves for Thea’s help,
   and their divine fire melts their icy fear;

Thea thus leads them out of darkness and deep gloom
   and breaks their bonds asunder.

Some go down to the sea in ships
   and ply their trade in deep waters;

Then a stormy wind rises up,
   which tosses high the waves of the sea.

They mount up to the skies and fall back to the depths;
   their hearts freeze because of their peril.

They reel and stagger like drunkards
   and are at their wits’ end.

Then they look within themselves for Thea’s help,
   and their divine fire melts their icy fear;

Thea thus stills the storm to a whisper
   and she brings them to the harbor they are bound for.

Thea’s love changes deserts into pools of water
   and dry land into water-springs.

She settles the hungry there,
   and they find a city to dwell in.

They sow fields, and plant vineyards,
   and bring in a fruitful harvest.

The wise will ponder these things,
   and consider well the holy fire of Thea that burns within.

Psalm 106

7/21/2016

Ten months ago today, I wrote a post detailing my frustrations with the characterization of God in Psalm 106. I rediscovered that post just now after transforming that very psalm. This is what Thea looks like to me. ♥

Psalm 106

We give thanks to you, O Thea,
   for your love for your Creatures is unending.

When we were enslaved we did not consider your marvelous works,
nor remember the abundance of your love;
   we defied you, believing not even you could help us.

But you set us free,
   making your power known.

You rebuked the sea, and it dried up,
   and you led us through the deep as through a desert.

You delivered us from the hand of those who hated us
   and empowered us to escape from those who would have held us captive.

But we soon forgot your deeds
   and did not take time to discern your wisdom for ourselves.

A craving seized us in the wilderness,
   and we put you to the test in the desert.

We envied Miriam in the camp,
   Miriam, your chosen one.

We forgot you, O Thea,
   you who had liberated us.

We grumbled in our tents
   and would not listen to your voice.

Then we were overtaken by the hand of our enemy
   and those who hated us ruled over us.

Our enemies oppressed us,
   and we were humbled under their hand.

Time after time you delivered us from our enslavement,
   but we forgot your love and sank into traps of our own making.

Nevertheless, you saw our distress
   when we voiced our lamentation.

You remembered your love, even when we forgot it,
   and lifted us up once more.

Blessed be you, O Thea, author of Creation,
   and may the blessing of your love ever be upon us!

Psalm 78

7/15/2016

This is a psalm that originally spoke of the stubborn hearts and repeated rebelling of God's people, despite God's goodness and generosity. In the original psalm, God grew angry and finally allowed the people to die off to see if it would make any difference with them.

I believe my rendering of this psalm speaks to a Thean worldview, one in which we as Creatures still rebel and in which God still resists that rebellion, but in which rebellion, resistance, and resolution are imagined in a very different way.

Psalm 78

Hear my teaching, my sisters,
   incline your ears to the words of my mouth.

I will open my mouth in a parable;
   I will declare the mysteries of ancient times.

That which we have heard and known,
and what our foremothers have told us,
   we will not hide from their children.

We will recount to generations to come
   the liberating deeds and loving power of Thea.

She established wisdom,
which she gave us to teach our children;

That the generations to come might know,
and the children yet unborn;
   that they in their turn might tell it to their children;

So that they might discover their divine identity
   and live as icons of her in the world.

She worked marvels in the sight of our foremothers,
   in the land where they were once slaves.

She split open the sea and let them pass through;
   she made the waters stand up like walls.

She led them with a cloud by day,
   and all the night through with a glow of fire.

She split the hard rocks in the wilderness
   and gave them drink as from the great deep.

She brought streams out of the cliff,
   and the waters gushed out like rivers.

And she said to them, “This!
   This is what I want you to do for your fellow Creatures!”

But they strayed from the path she had given them,
   rebelling in the desert against her.

They tested her in their hearts,
   demanding food for their craving.

They railed against her and said,
   “Can you set a table in the wilderness?

True, she struck the rock, the waters gushed out, and the gullies overflowed;
   but are you able to give bread
   or to provide meat for her creatures?”

When Thea heard this,
   a fire ignited in her heart,

For they had no faith in Thea;
   how could they possibly have faith in themselves?

So she commanded the clouds above
   and opened the doors of heaven.

She rained down manna upon them to eat
   and gave them grain from heaven.

So mortals ate the bread of angels;
   she provided for them food enough.

She caused the east wind to blow in the heavens
   and led out the south wind by her might.

She rained down flesh upon them like dust
   and winged birds like the sand of the sea.

She let it fall in the midst of their camp
   and round about their dwellings.

So they are and were well filled,
   for she gave them what they craved.

But they did not believe in her promise,
   that her power to work miracles was also their power.

They remained steadfast in their stubbornness
   and had no faith in her wonderful works.

Then Thea woke as though from sleep,
   like a warrior refreshed with wine.

She set her eyes on her Creatures,
   whom she had always loved;

And she whispered in their hearts once more,
   that they might recognize their true calling, their deepest yearning,
   and become her miracle-working hands and feet and heart in the world.

In the wake of Orlando

6/17/2016

As a cisgender, heterosexual, white person, I have taken the words of my LGBTQ+ friends to heart over the last week and quieted myself so that they and their community could be heard in the wake of the devastation at Pulse in Orlando, Florida.

As a minister, however, I also have a responsibility not to keep silent forever, because my silence might imply my endorsement or approval of the actions of the man who shot and killed/wounded over a hundred members of the Latinx LGBTQ community.

Let me be clear: it is not the will or desire of God (whom I call Thea) that LGBTQ people should be targets of violence. It is not Thea's will that LGBTQ people should in any way change or hide or be ashamed of their sexual identity. Individuals and communities that intentionally marginalize/persecute the LGBTQ community for their sexuality are absolutely wrong to do so, full-stop. These persecutors are the ones who need to change, not the ones they persecute.

I mourn for the precious lives lost and those that were forever changed in this mass shooting. I also mourn for the shooter, whose life was lost fighting the wrong fight. I pray for peace, solace, and love to envelop the LGBTQ community so they might heal and be strengthened to be who they are with enormous pride, and I pray for compassion, a desire for mutual understanding, and forgiveness among all of us, because we could all use much more of that. As for me, I have spent this week letting my LGBTQ friends know that I love them and I'm thinking of them, and I've also spent this week lovingly communicating with those who would promote marginalization of another group, those who follow Islam, in order to show that fundamentalist extremism does not equate or speak for religion as a whole. I've spent this week lifting up those in politics who can make a difference in keeping guns out of the wrong hands. I've done what I could, and I will continue to do what I can to ensure that a tragedy like this is forever a thing of the past. I pray that you and all of us will do the same--not just pray, but take tangible steps to prevent this kind of tragedy from ever taking place again.

I came across this psalm in my prayer today, and it seems to fit:

Psalm 79

O Thea, those who do evil have come among us;
   they have made Creation a pile of rubble.

They have shed blood like water throughout all of Creation,
   and there was no one to bury their victims.

Help them and us, O Thea! Change their hearts and ours;
   let your compassion be swift to meet us all and spread among us.

Help us, O Thea;
   deliver us and teach us your forgiveness,
   that we may taste and see the sweetness of your mercy.

O Thea, let the sorrowful sighing of those in chains come before you,
   and by your great might give hope to those who are condemned to die.

We will give you thanks forever
   and show forth your praise from age to age.

Thean Evening Prayer

6/11/2016

I am happy to announce for my readers in the Phoenix area that I will be collaborating with Pathways of Grace to offer Thean Evening Prayer starting this autumn (Thea willing!). I'm still in the process of discerning exactly what this will look like, but I envision evening prayer after the pattern of Christian vespers (using Thean and other texts focused on the women and the Divine Feminine) followed by a potluck supper.

I will announce the firm details when I have them, hopefully within the next week. In the meantime, I ask for your prayers and invite you to share this news with anyone who may be interested.

Psalms for the morning of the fifth day

5/5/2016

I am nearly finished with the revisions of my psalter. Praying with it gives me chills, wonder, and hope. ♥

Psalm 24

Creation is Thea and all that is in it,
   the universe and all who dwell therein.

For it is she who splashes as the seas
   and is firm as earth alongside the great rivers.

“Who can descend the valley of Thea?
   and who can stand in her holy place?

“Those who have a pure heart,
   who have not pledged themselves to falsehood,
   nor sworn by what is a fraud.

They shall receive a blessing from Thea
   and a just reward from the Goddess whose body they are.”

Such is the generation of those who seek her,
   of those who seek your face, O Goddess of Creation.

Lift up your heads, O gates;
   lift them high, O everlasting doors;
   and the Queen of glory shall come in.

“Who is this Queen of glory?”
   “Thea, strong and mighty,
   Thea, mighty in battle.”

Lift up your heads, O gates;
lift them high, O everlasting doors;
   and the Queen of glory shall come in.

“Who is she, this Queen of glory?”
   “The Lady of Creation,
   she is the Queen of glory.”

Psalm 25

To you, O Thea, I lift up my flesh;
   my Goddess, I put my trust in you.

Let none who look to you be put to shame;
   let the treacherous be disappointed in their schemes.

Show me your ways, O Thea,
   and teach me your paths.

Lead me in your truth and teach me,
   for you are the Goddess, the breath of my flesh;
   in you I have trusted all day long.

Remember, O Thea, your compassion and love,
   for they are everlasting.

Remember not the wrongdoing of my youth and my transgressions;
   remember me according to your love
   and for the sake of your goodness, O Thea.

Gracious and upright is Thea;
   therefore she teaches her Creatures in her ways.

She guides the humble in doing right
   and teaches her way to the lowly.

All the paths of Thea are love and faithfulness;
   the Goddess shows her Creatures her ways.

Who are they who are in awe of Thea?
   she will teach them the way that they should choose.

Thea is a friend to those who are in awe of her
   and will show them her covenant.

My eyes are ever looking to Thea,
   for she shall pluck my feet out of the net.

Protect my life and deliver me;
   let me not be put to shame, for I have trusted in you.

Let integrity and uprightness preserve me,
   for my hope has been in you.

Deliver Creation, O Goddess,
   out of all her troubles.

Psalm 26

Give judgment for me, O Thea,
for I have lived with integrity;
   I have trusted in Thea and have not faltered.

Test me, O Thea, and try me;
   examine my heart and my mind.

For your love is before my eyes;
   I have walked faithfully with you.

I will wash my hands in innocence, O Thea,
   that I may go in procession round your altar,

Singing aloud a song of thanksgiving
   and recounting all your wonderful deeds.

Thea, I love the house in which you dwell
   and the place where your glory abides.

My foot stands on level ground;
   in the full assembly I will bless Thea.

What I'm not teaching my daughters

10/15/2015

As I retranslate the Book of Psalms, I come across too many instances in which the psalmist writes something like this:

"Pour out your wrath upon the heathen who have not known you
and upon the the kingdoms that have not called upon your Name."
--Psalm 79

This usually comes after several lines of lament about how God has become angry at Israel and turned God's face away from them, so that their enemies overpower them. I'm nearly finished translating the Psalter, and I'm shocked at how often lines like these come up. How did I pray the whole Psalter every month when I was a Benedictine Canon (Novice)? How did I let such vengeful words pass my lips?

I suspect the rote character of reciting the psalms daily, combined with the daunting task of chanting the psalm tones correctly, dampened the impact of the words I was praying. In other words, I didn't know what I was praying. Now that I approach these words again, psalm by psalm, line by line, I can no longer gloss over them like I once did. I feel compelled to leave them out altogether. I don't want my daughters to learn that, if things are going badly for them, a) God is mad at them, or b) they have a right to wish God's wrath on someone else. Both of those ideas are completely backwards according to my thealogy.

I'm struggling as I finish this translation to remain true to the text when there's so much that I find thealogically problematic. There are many beautiful, transformative lines in the psalms, like "Create in me a clean heart, O God" (Psalm 51). There are many lines of praise to God, and gratitude for the wonders of creation, the work of God's hands. Those lines are lines that I will teach my daughters to memorize. I may even keep some of the lines that ask God why she has turned her face away, because it's a very human thing to search for reasons for the bad things that happen to us. When things are truly awful, it's natural for one to question God about why it's happened. But I will not teach my daughters to believe that God is wrathful, much less that God takes out her wrath on people when she loses her temper. My Goddess doesn't work like that. My Goddess is a Goddess of mercy, love, and tender care.

I feel a loss as I continue my work on the Psalter--elements of my childhood faith that I accepted without question are now no longer acceptable to me, and I'm having to let them go. I'm even having to rethink the Exodus, because I can't attribute the plagues to God's will. The Judeo-Christian pillars of my faith are failing, and I'm having to reimagine Goddess from the ground up.

Despite my losses, I trust that this book of prayer I'm creating is also revealing Goddess to me, one line at a time.

Psalm 100

9/19/2015

The psalms were a regular part of my prayer life when I was a Benedictine Canon (Novice). In the last year or so, I've limited my exposure to the psalms to my Sunday liturgies. Today, however, wanting to reintroduce the psalms into my prayer life, I prayed evening prayer with my copies of The Plainsong Psalter, the Book of Common Prayer, and Benedictine Daily Prayer, all of which I used to use to pray the liturgy of the hours when I was a novice. The rhythm of Benedictine prayer, which centers around prayer of the psalms, gives me life.

I adapted tonight's prescribed psalms for Thean use. This was my adaptation of Psalm 100:

Be joyful in Thea, all you lands;
serve Thea with gladness
and come before her presence with a song.

Know this: Thea herself is Goddess;
she herself has made us, and we are hers;
we are her people and the sheep of her pasture.

Enter her gates with thanksgiving;
go into her courts with praise;
give thanks to her and call upon her Name.

For Thea is good;
her mercy is everlasting;
and her faithfulness endures from age to age.

It is so beautiful and enriching to pray to Thea this way--to dare to use feminine pronouns when the prescribed pronouns are always masculine, and to call Thea by the Greek name for "Goddess." As I develop my Thean prayer resources, I think I shall leave the Psalter much as it is apart from pronouns and names. The riches of the Psalter are worth retaining.

Living Lent: Tenebrae

4/17/2014

Long psalms draw me into shadow.

A clatter rattles me.
Death!

But a lone flame alights,
scattering harbored dark
and my dry face is watered with hope.

Living Lent: Reading

4/15/2014

I've spent much of this Lent steeping my heart in words: words from my prayer books, words from scripture, words from novels, and words from those I love.

I recently read Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose, a medieval story that follows the rhythm of the monastic daily office. Now I'm reading D.L. Smith's The Miracles of Santa Fico, a story that my friend, Denise, promises will illuminate Holy Week. Soon I will reread Robert Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, one of the most influential books of my life (whose contents are summed up in the title).

In what ways do the stories I read and hear shape the story of my life? As I approach the liminal liturgy of Triduum that serves as the gateway between Lent and Easter, what stories should I embrace as truth-bearers, and what stories should I relinquish as deceivers?

A day in the life

2/9/2014

Welcome to a day in my life. A collage, if you will. The pieces don't look the same from day to day, but the items you see below are typical of my life. (See captions for details.)

Christmas

12/25/2013

Photo by Monty and Julie Carson

My daughter danced my parish into Christ's birth last night. That memory will remain with me for the rest of my days.

~~~

As part of my Benedictine prayer practice, I read the lections of the day according to the Book of Common Prayer. A portion of the first letter of John was today's second reading.

This line pealed out like holy bells: "[A]s long as we love one another, God remains in us, and God's love comes to its perfection in us." Sounds a little bit like the preaching of the new bishop of Rome, no? Sounds even more like the nudgings of Jesus. Where two are three are gathered in love, there is God.

There was God last night. There was God around our Christmas tree this morning. There is God now as we prepare our Christmas feast. There will God be as we lovingly greet familiar friends and strangers throughout Christmastide.

May these twelve days to Epiphany be filled with blessings and your own ongoing, Spirit-ed expressions of sacred love.

O Sapientia: Advent, Week 3, Tuesday

12/17/2013

December 17

O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodidisti, attingens a fine usque ad finem, fortiter suaviter disponensque omnia: veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.

O Wisdom, who came from the mouth of the Most High, reaching from end to end and ordering all things mightily and sweetly: come, and teach us the way of prudence.

When I studied at St. John's School of Theology in Collegeville, Minnesota, one of my favorite times of year to pray with the monks was in the last days before Christmas. December 17 was the day the O Antiphons, which famously make up the verses for "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," began. The chant tones for these antiphons were haunting, especially when played on the thundering Holtkamp Organ.

Now these antiphons come up during evensong/vespers/evening prayer for me at home. My electronic keyboard and fumbling fingers don't exactly emulate the sounds of St. John's Abbey, but praying in my little corner at home transports me right back to those tall, black choir stalls.