I suppose I'd hoped for some sort of divine revelation that'd somehow change me, make me into a saint overnight; but that's not really how it works, is it? In the rite of baptism, we may 'die' to sin; but we're still just as capable of being sinful. The process of conversion is a lifelong one. We're born into a new spiritual life, but we're not born an entirely new person. All the thoughts, feelings, memories, and habits we walk in with to be baptized and welcomed into the Church, good and bad, are the same ones we walk out with. We're given new spiritual tools to confront our defilements, but the work is still ours to do.
It was kind of strange walking into another church and being able to fully participate. I'm so used to just sitting in the back, quietly watching everyone else as they say the responses and go up for communion. St. Mary's is a lovely church. It's large, open, and has some beautiful stained glass windows and iconography. It also has nice acoustics and I can only imagine how great the choir sounds. I saw Anthony, one of the people who's been coming to Fr. Bill's Thursday night group. He's a regular altar server there. I didn't have time to stick around and say hi, though, as I had to quickly catch the bus in order to make it to my Friday night meditation and discussion group on time.
I had a bad headache and contemplated just going home, but I decided to go anyway. It'd been a long time since my last visit, and I thought to myself, "My defilements don't take days off, why should I? If you're serious about this, a headache shouldn't stop you from trying to be in the present moment." I made it with a couple of minutes to spare. I mostly nodded off during the meditation, but the discussion was interesting. They're still going over MN 2, and the main topic of discussion was the drawbacks of grasping at precepts and practices, or as Ajahn Sumedho calls it in one of his talks, clinging to conventions, which can limit how we see and react to certain people, ideas, and situations.
On one level, clinging to precepts and practices (sometimes also translated as rites and rituals) means simply going through the motions ritualistically, as if simply doing x is all the spiritual life entails regardless of the intention behind it. It's a type of magical thinking, e.g., "If I circumnavigate this holy shrine three times, my wish will be granted." On another level, it's about placing things into conceptual categories and giving those categories substance rather than treating them like the conventional designations they are, e.g., placing everyone into the gender binary of male and female or the sexual binary of straight and gay when there's actually a whole spectrum. The pro is the convenience of communication. The con is the tendency to cling to these conventions, which often engenders ill-will and an us vs. them attitude towards anyone who falls outside of these conventional 'absolutes.'
The rest of the discussion consisted of an intro to the next section of the sutta, where the Buddha teaches sense restraint as one method of dealing with the mental effluents, cankers, fermentations, or intoxicating biases (asavas) that obstruct spiritual awakening, i.e., sense desire, wrong views, becoming, and ignorance. And I found both topics rather timely since "the fermentations to be abandoned by restraining" are what I've been struggling with lately due to my 'unrestrained' faculties. I need to think outside of the box and find new ways of looking at things so as not to grasp at any signs or features that 'intoxicate' the mind and cause one to sin or miss the mark (hamartia). In other words, I mustn't cling to conventions, and I must guard the doors of my senses.
Today, I woke up early and decided to treat myself to breakfast at Beulahland for the Arsenal vs. Burnley match. I didn't practice much sense restraint, however, and overdid it on the coffee and key lime pie, which messed up my stomach pretty bad (note to self: indulging like you're used to after a relatively long period of fasting is a bad idea). I spent the entire afternoon laid up on the couch with stomach cramps, which at least gave me time to finally watch the first half of Fiddler on the Roof (I love it so far!). Annie and I had plans to hang out with a friend for drinks, but I wasn't feeling up to it and stayed home. I started feeling better around 4pm, but still not quite enough for food and drinks, so I decided to go to St. Philip for the vigil instead. It was quite an unexpected experience.
First, the gospel reading and homily given by Fr. Charlie had to do with 'doubting' Thomas, someone I can definitely relate to. Charlie said that we shouldn't look down on Thomas for his lack of faith because we've all experienced doubt at some point in our lives (especially when it comes to the 'big questions'), and he's simply giving voice to what's in all of our hearts at one time or another. Doubt in and of itself isn't bad, isn't antithetical to faith. As Thomas Merton writes:
Faith means doubt. Faith is not the suppression of doubt. It is the overcoming of doubt, and you overcome doubt by going through it. The man of faith who has never experienced doubt is not a man of faith. (The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton)
Fr. Charlie noted how Jesus upbraided all the disciples in Mark's gospel for their "unbelief and hardness of heart," as well as the fact that the other disciples didn't turn their backs on Thomas even though he doubted what they'd seen in his absence. They still loved him and kept him close until he, too, was able to experience the resurrected Jesus. Thomas was simply being honest, and he wasn't excommunicated for it. In many ways, doubt marks the beginning of our journey towards awakening and self-discovery. Doubt leads to investigation, which leads to conviction, and finally, to gnosis. The reading begins with Thomas openly stating his doubt and ends with his exclamation of faith, "My Lord, my God." Thomas would then go on to become one of the most faithful of Jesus' disciples in spreading his message, travelling as far as India.
After the service, I ran into Fr. Bill, who said that he had something for me in the rectory. When he returned, he handed me a card signed by himself and everyone from the Spiritual Formations group plus a bag with a chocolate Easter bunny and a beautiful, sapphire blue rosary in it (which, probably unknownst to Fr. Bill, happens to be my favourite colour/birthstone). We talked a bit about what we had going on this week and the future of the Spiritual Formations group, and I mentioned that I saw Anthony on Friday while he was serving during the 5:30pm mass at St. Mary's. Later, while locking up the church, he said that he thought both Chris and I might be good at being altar servers at St. Philip and asked if I was interested. I was a bit taken aback and said that, although I'd probably be incredibly nervous at first due to my shy nature, I'd love to learn. It made me really happy.
Finally, as I was leaving the church, a man came up to me and said that he was hitchhiking from South Dakota to Arizona and asked if I had any change to spare. I said yes and gave him $20. He introduced himself as Clayton and told me a lot about himself: that he's Native American (Sioux); that he's an ex-Marine who served during the first Gulf War; that he recently lost his mother, and all of his friends have turned their backs on him; that he recently relapsed (alcoholism, I think); that he was trying to get to Arizona for a welding job. Like Thomas, I doubted a lot of what he said, but he did start crying at one point while talking about his family and his substance abuse. I felt a great deal of compassion for him, and I patiently listened to his story. When he was done, he thanked me and said he was going to walk a bit down Division to find something to eat.
I got in Annie's car and was about to go home, but decided to catch up with him and asked if he wanted to get something to eat with me instead. He said yes and I asked what he felt like. A hamburger. So we ended up walking to the food carts on 28th and Division, talking some more along the way. We found a cart with burgers, and as we were eating, he said, "Pilamaya. That means thank you." When he'd finished his food, he got up, said that he was going to walk back the way we came, and left. He seemed like a proud man, and the abruptness made me wonder if he was uncomfortable with having to rely on someone else's generosity. Or maybe he thought he'd gotten all he was going to get from me and went to find someone else to hustle. Either way, it felt good to be kind, and I recalled one of my favourite parables/discourses, that of the sheep and the goats in Mt 25:31-46:
“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’ And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’ Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’ Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’ He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’ And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”
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