The Good Hindu

A teacher of the Law asked the Lord, "What must I do to inherit eternal life?"

What does the Law say?

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and mind, and soul and love your neighbor as yourself.

You have answered correctly.  Do this and you will live.

But, Lord, who is my neighbor?

The Lord replied, "A woman was having many trials in her life.  She had found a lump in her breast and needed surgery.  Fortunately, it turned out to be benign.  However, just four days after surgery and though the woman also had a daughter who was critically ill, her boss, an elder in a local evangelical church, demanded she come to work on her normally scheduled day off because the office was short-staffed.  She was incredulous but dragged her still weakened self to work because she mistakenly regarded her boss as a "friend."  Shortly after this he fired her and refused to give a reason although the office manager commended her work ethic and skills.

Some time later the woman became frighteningly ill and this time it really was cancer.  She had recently left her congregation though her son and husband stayed there.  She and her family had been involved in that church in many ways for nearly 20 years.  When the pastor learned from the woman's husband that she was ill he told the man he was sorry to hear it.  He never called the woman, never sent a note, never asked the husband to express his concern for the woman he had known.  Later, when the woman visited the church for an event her son was involved in the pastor made demeaning comments from the pulpit about "those people over at the ashram."

Meanwhile, the woman had met a female monk from the ashram.  They exchanged pleasantries only twice.  When the monk learned of the woman's illness she asked if she could have the woman's email address and phone number to keep in touch before and after surgery and treatment.  True to her word, the monk checked in on the woman several times asking how she was doing, if there was anything needed, letting her know she was offering prayers for the woman's well-being.  When the woman said she was feeling sad about the need for being quarantined from human touch during treatment the monk checked on her more often during that period of time to provide encouragement in the loneliness.  When the quarantine was over the monk gave the woman a big, loving hug and rejoiced with the woman over the good report from the doctor."

Which of these do you think was a neighbor to the woman facing trials?

The one who showed loved to the woman.

The Lord said, "Go and do likewise."

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I give thanks for the folks who demonstrated love to me in my time of need, whether I share their theology or not.  I am honored by their friendship and blessed by their kindness.  I can only hope to reciprocate adequately when the opportunities arise.  I will not remain in the presence of those who would demean them.

Communion

Over a year ago I left the church I had attended and been heavily involved in for 18 years.  For a very long time before my departure I had opted not to participate in communion services partly because I was unable to be at peace with the leadership of the congregation. No one forbade me.  I made that choice myself.  I've looked around for a new house of worship and during my recent health crisis I settled in at one for the duration of that experience.  I'm not sure I'll stay there long term but it suited my need for some stability during the insanity that was dealing with cancer while working at a new job.  I'm still looking but I also still drop in there from time to time.  This Sunday was one of those times and  Mr. Lime came with me this week.

It was World Communion Sunday and it was made clear membership was not a prerequisite so we participated.  There were spiritual aspects to this service which affirmed my decision to leave my former church, not that I was in need of that but it's still a good feeling to have the instinct reinforced.  It should be noted that Mr. Lime and Isaac continue to attend the church I have left.  This causes certain observers of our family no end to the consternation.  Ok, really, it just blows their circuitry completely, mainly because they are extremely conservative, and I have clearly gone off the deep end, and why isn't Mr. Lime reining me in better?  Yes, really.  Actually, it's been a very good thing for our family in general and our partnership specifically since I have gone my own way.  That piece of information simply does not compute at all when the already confounded folks hear it....but I digress....not only in matters of faith, but in keeping to the main point of this piece.

Where were we?  Ah yes, in the pew on this lovely Sunday morning, listening to a message before communion wherein the pastor made reference to the movie A League of Their Own.  He continued his remarks with the comment, "Perhaps you recall the line..."  I looked at Mr. Lime and whispered, "Avoid the clap. Jimmy Dugan."  The pastor finished his sentence with, "...'There's no crying in baseball!'"  Mr. Lime responded to my wisecrack with, "Rogers Hornsby was my manager and he called me a talking pile of pighsit.  And did I cry?"  Then we both tried to stop laughing at each other so the pew would stop shaking and the little old ladies on the other end wouldn't be annoyed by us.

Sitting next to Mr. Lime in church laughing together, albeit somewhat irreverently, rather than gritting my teeth through a message that grinds against my core convictions about the nature of Christian charity and its expression was a moment of its own communion, one I had long since forgotten could exist.

The Most Irreverent Lime

Back before we had children we attended a very small church. The Sunday evening service was a pretty casual affair. One Super Bowl Sunday the Pastor kept telling us to make sure we came back that evening for the Super Service. If he said it once he said it a dozen times. I took Mr. Lime's red Union Jack long underwear, slapped a big "S" on the front and fashioned a cape out of a blanket and went to the Super Service thusly attired. (Image from http://www.popartuk.com/g/l/lghr0230.jpg)


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They asked me to teach 1st grade Sunday School for a year. I did. I thought the curriculum was boring. I stuck to whatever the story was but trashed the watered down lesson. There were some folks who were not highly amused by having the class sit ON the tables instead of AT the tables and making a lot of noise and jumping around. Well, see we were paddling Jonah's boat and there was this big storm and he fell overboard, ya know? Because storms are kind of scary and people get kind of panicked by them and it's fun to flick the lights on and off real fast and make lightning. And if you're going to make lightning you need thunder noises to go with it. And when you're drowning in the sea it's even scarier and you might scream and if some great fish..because it's a fish, not a whale, because there are these crazy fish over there that actually can swallow people, whales can't do that because they have this stuff called baleen that strains out everything except krill which is itty bitty...so anyway, if one of those crazy fish comes after you now how scary is THAT? I mean really! So anyway, now this fish swallows you whole and swims around and then barfs you up. And so well we all have to make barfing sounds now and then we really maybe do want to barf because we think about how Jonah might be bald and stinky from fish belly juices eating away his hair and stuff and that is pretty gross after all and ya know if some guy came to talk to you about your life and he was all bald and stinky from fish belly juice maybe he might kinda get your attention. First graders dig that sort of stuff. Their parents, not always so much.
(Image from http://www.adventjugend.ch/beide/galerie/Cartoons/Humorfromm_3/jonah.jpg)

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Holy Thursday at our church is marked with a very simple communion service after which all lights are extinguished. The congregation sits in the dark contemplating the betrayal and arrest of Christ on this solemn night and anyone who wants to may begin a hymn. After several had been sung a boy's voice was heard from the back as he sang the first few words to Christ the Lord Has Risen Today then hesitated and stopped before saying, "Oh poop. Never mind." At that point each one in our family looked at up and down the pew at the others to confirm that we really heard what we thought we heard and silently agreed to the scatological reference before great spasms of silent guffaws began to shake the pew violently while we all attempted to maintain composure. Hands were clapped over mouths, shoulders heaved, and eye contact was avoided. I began to pinch Isaac's thigh HARD when I heard the first snorts escaping from his tight lips. We all started to breathe more deeply and calmly and have some measure of hope in restoring decorum until we looked up and saw the youth pastor convulsing in front of us in his own silent stifled giggles. (Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/100gurus/2259812153/)


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I was working in the church nursery with another lady and her college-aged daughter. Two toddlers, a boy and a girl, were "negotiating" over a mutually desired toy. The boy was sitting with a toy the girl wanted. The girl, who was standing, now stooped to try to take the toy and the boy pulled it from her reach. She straightened up and considered the situation before hiking her dress to reveal her thigh as her gaze caught the boy's eyes. I whispered to the other workers, "A little leg never hurts when you want to get your way."

The girl swayed a little when the boy's focus shifted back to the toy. He looked back up at her then she lifted her dress all the way up to her chin. As he sat there slack-jawed and drooling she snatched the toy away and ran to the other side of the room. I intoned, "Toddlers gone wild."
(Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/24674369@N06/2399337168/)


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So once again I am in charge of VBS crafts next week. I always try to make at least one project to remind the kids of the different part of the world we learn about each year. If you recall, 2 years ago we had visitors from Papua New Guinea and I jokingly suggested penis gourds as a craft activity. Word got back to our guests and they presented me with my very own penis gourd to keep forever and ever. (I guess I have to work on acquiring the necessary appendage for said garment.) This year we will be learning about Brazil so I was thinking sequined pasties for Carnival might be a big hit. At least if our guests call my bluff and give me a set I can wear them for real!
(Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/istolethetv/121505999/)