Sunday, September 30, 2007

Be True to the Truth at Your Core


Alice C. Linsley


Christopher Bryant, the British spiritual director wrote: “If we are right in taking the Jungian concept of Self, in its dual character as both the total personality and the personality centre, as the key to an understanding of the way God acts upon us and makes himself know to us, then it will follow inevitably that being estranged from God will mean being unaware of and out of touch with the heights and depths of our personality; it will mean being estranged from our centre and unable to love our own truth.” (The River Within)

Writers must never let go of spiritual truths that we may have learned as children. We must hold on to what is true and valuable. Spiritual truths reside at our core and mustn't be ignored. Self-estrangement is death for writers because it leads to nihilism and a jaded view of life. Hemingway describes it so well in this excerpt from The Snows of Kilimanjaro:

How could a woman know that you meant nothing that you said; that you spoke only from habit and to be comfortable. After he no longer meant what he said, his lies were more successful with women than when he had told them the truth.

It was not that he lied as that there was no truth to tell. He had had his life and it was over and then he went on living it again with different people and more money, with the best of the same places, and some new ones…But in yourself you said that you would write about these people; about the very rich…but he would never do it, because each day of not writing, of comfort, of being that which he despised, sullied his ability and softened his will to work so that, finally, he did no work at all.

He had destroyed his talent himself. Why should he blame this woman because she kept him well? He had destroyed his talent by not using it, by betrayals of himself and what he believed in… What was his talent anyway? It was a talent all right but instead of using it, he traded on it…he had sold vitality, in one form or anther, all his life and when your affections are not too involved you give much better value for the money.”


Related reading: Pen Pecked Dreamers


Monday, September 24, 2007

Admitted to the Holy Priesthood


This poem is Father Ed Pacht’s reflection on the second Mass of the newly ordained Father Christian Tutor, an Augustinian monk, who celebrated the Mass in Latin at Trinity Anglican Church, Rochester New Hampshire on the Feast of the Holy Transfiguration.


Mass on the Feast of Transfiguration

Opening movement.

Introibo ad altare Dei,
ad altare Dei,
to the altar,
to the altar of God,
of God most high,
most high and lifted up
lifted up upon the hill before me,
and I
stand,
unworthy,
soiled and stained,
unable to ascend these steps until,
until,
until I lay my sins,
all my sins,
and all my weakness,
in a heap upon this floor,
in a heap with those my brothers bring,
and so I climb.

Illuxerunt,
a world ablaze in uncreated Light,
a world a-tremble reels in awe,
and I stand, a-dazzled by that glory;
in my weakness there I cry,

Kyrie,
Kyrie,
Kyrie eleison,
mercy, Lord, I cry for mercy,
as I stand within that light,
as my eyes behold and lips proclaim,

Gloria,
in excelsis,
in excelsis Deo;
the glory of Thy Light,
the light that shines upon Thy Face,
qui tollis peccata mundi,
that shines into every darkness,
that takes away all sin,
and lets me, sinful as I am,
stand before Thy Face,
now behold Thy Face,
and on this day of such great glory,
admitted to the Mysteries holy,
permitted to that Feast on high,
I boldly, humbly now step forward
and set my feet beyond the veil.

and the Mass goes on.

c) 2007 Ed Pacht

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Three Related Dreams


Alice C. Linsley

In this interview with Ancient Faith Radio, I mention a dream that I had about "the Pearl of Great Price" and this has prompted a reader to ask about the dream. Before I say more about that, I should explain that I keep a dream journal next to my bed and record significant dreams. I've been doing this for about 22 years so I am able to refer to those journals. The following 3 dreams are recorded in those journals.

On November 8, 1995 I dreamt that I was in a small office talking on the phone with a women parishioner, trying to persuade her to support the parish. After a time of conversation she finally came to her objection: her husband wouldn’t give to the church because of a woman priest. I countered that he should support the parish at least for the sake of the two men priests who were on my staff!

I rang off and sat down at a desk with a partition wall immediately in front of me. It was a poorly built partition and the larger room on the other side seemed to be empty but it was well lit from two windows. To my right was another window such as are found in old buildings: tall with thick casements. Behind me, also to the right, was a long, narrow supply closet with shelves. It was difficult to see inside because it was dark. There didn’t appear to be anything on the shelves.

Behind me to the left was an old reredos screen, which had been placed there after church renovation. It was deep forest green, flecked with gold and behind it was another door. The reredos had been pulled away from the door so someone could get to the door. The door was slightly open, but I had no idea where it led. I imagined that it was a studio for me to write. This made me glad.

After my phone conversation I went into the next room where Brian Wilbert asked me to put on a cope. It was white with gold braid and a sacred teardrop pearl hung at the peak of the detail. Sacred letters (runic) were inscribed on the pearl. I was the led into the assembly. All was in confusion as I entered. I sensed people’s reactions to me and I became nervous. I was being led to a platform in a convention center or large arena. I was to be seated in the cathedra, but it was not ready for me when I arrive. People were busy clearing away furniture and finally brought in the cathedra. It was very narrow and there is no place to put my Book of Common Prayer and papers. I asked for a small table to be placed next to the cathedra and I sat down. I looked over the congregation, which still had not settled down. I realized that I was expected to say something, but what?

Then the cathedra disappeared and I was facing the other direction with my back to the assembly. I was standing with my hand raised up as in prayer and the throng grew very quiet and I suddenly began to sing. It is a single strong note and perfectly pitched. The note swelled from within me and grew like a bubble coming from my mouth, only invisible. I sang and the people began to sing also. I was not leading the liturgy, but I was leading the singing. The noise was discordant at first, but then the people began to listen to one another and blended their voices. The song became beautiful and I knew that the people would be able to sing to the Lord. Their hearts would be free and they would sing! This gave me great joy.


This dream seems to be connected to an earlier dream, which I had on March 3, 1995.

In that dream I was on my way to the elevator and I stopped to hug a white haired elderly lady. She was surprised. I went left and she went right. I entered the elevator to go to the second floor but it would only go either to the fourth or the ground floors. Every time I tried to go to the second level the elevator went up to fourth or down to the ground floor. Finally I gave up and got off on the fourth floor.

My son is there with one of his male friends. I look under Josh’s bed. There was nothing there but dust and I noticed that the bed frame needed repairs and adjustments. Also the wall between the rooms had been removed. The 2 by 4s were still there and I could see into the other room, which was more finished and well furnished. To get to this room Josh had to take another elevator, but he didn’t want to go there. He liked this room.

In Josh’s room were gold puzzle boxes. I put them together and I also found trick matchboxes used by Japanese soldiers to trick their enemies. When someone asked for a light in a bar to smoke, the solider tossed them a trick matchbox and blew them up. These matchboxes were empty.

At the dresser there was a huge mirror facing me. In the dresser drawers I found more boxes and a small enameled box with a red velvet lining. I opened it and heard these words: “Solomon was the wisest who ever lived.” The box contained hairs from Solomon’s bear. I removed them and threw them in the trashcan to my right. I began to sing a very beautiful song, making up the words as I went. Another woman began to sing with me but couldn’t come up with the words so she stopped. I felt very glad and free, like a songbird perched in a tower high above a city.

My song was about a “sheer pearl” that was milky white and in the shape of a teardrop. It was gleaming white and at its curves it reflected the red lining of the box’s interior.

Both of these dreams are connected to a third dream involving a pearl.

I was vested and standing in the procession of priests. We were preparing to process into the church. The Bishop was in line ahead of me (not normal). Suddenly off to my right appeared a gleaming white pearl. It was shaped like a teardrop. I knew that it was the “Pearl of Great Price” but the only way I could take a hold of it was to leave the procession of priests and to turn my back on my bishop.

About 10 years later, I left the Episcopal priesthood in March 2005. That was the date of my signing the renunciation of orders. In a very real way I turned my back on my bishop (the radical Stacy Sauls) in order to take hold of something of infinitely greater value.

Related reading: Anglican Fudge on Women Priests; Why Women Were Never Priests; The Priesthood is About the Blood


Monday, September 3, 2007

Spiritual Renewal and Creativity

Some readers know that I was an Episcopal priest until March 2005 when I set aside Episcopal orders. In February 2007 I joined the Orthodox Church and I worship in a place that I can describe simply as an illumined jewel box. The church is filled with hand-painted gilded icons and each week I drink in the rich colors and images that inspire my thoughts.

The spiritual journey of the past 5 years has been difficult, but very fruitful. I find that I have more creative energy than I've had in years and I intend to share some of that energy with readers of Students Publish Here!

For those interested in hearing more about my spiritual journey, you may listen to the Ancient Faith Radio interview done with me earlier this year. Click here.