Predawn Nontheology

Again, it isn’t a faith crisis, and anyway, if anyone should not own up to such, it’s a minister of the Gospel, isn’t it. It’s no crisis, it's that life keeps changing, moving along and changing, doesn’t it. It isn’t me, at 78 I’m still the same as at 18, the camera does lie, but life changes around me, and I spend more and more time in that tree, observing, appalled.

Why this early waking? Before my eyes at my place at the kitchen table are two long pill boxes, each with seven flip tops, S M T W T F S. One box is yellow for sunshine, morning pills that I take faithfully (different sort of faith) at six o’clock in the morning. The other is blue for the night sky, twelve hours later, six o’clock in the evening. Now and then the mind tricks the fingers into picking up the blue box because of the beautiful blue morning sky, which proves that it's best not to think. However, to dream up some other association for the colors would be like changing where I keep my keys, iPhone, wallet: deep routine that tampered stirs chaos. Though I may need to shift pill time to eight o’clock PM bedtime, as thirty minutes after gulping the blue mix, blood pressure drops from normal 110/68 to hibernate, last evening 79/42. Don’t drive, don’t climb trees. ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz golden daze, life has nothing sweeter than its springtime, wake me at Easter ---

What awakens me early? Per above, to bed too early, body function, plus this morning a sound of rain on the roof, up and back to bed -- porch door is open, what’s that droning sound way out on the Bay, a boat shrimping? Whatever, it stirred up wave action splash splash crash splash, those are not sheep. Sheep? Lambs? Lamb of God? Who or what is God? God is One for Israel, one for Islam, Three for me, other for Buddhist, Hindu, Sikh, Shinto --- each certain -- can I do this theology as a sedative? No, this morning, sadly, instead of inducing, it roused. 

Why am I a Three person? It was passed down to me. There are those who say, well, when you think about it, it just makes sense, but it don't make no sense to me, it's incomprehensible. Those who say it makes sense have started their car in their garage, backed out and down the driveway, shifted to D, cruised round the block, turned back into the driveway and driven back into the garage. That isn’t inquiry. Inquiry is driving to Maine or San Francisco or flying to Sydney. Or to the moon. Or off into the heavens even if there's no way back. 

Is god (l.c.) whatever we rationalize or decide god is? Or conclude, as in a creed. When it comes to God, the thing is to inquire, not to conclude. As, again, theology is not a product like a Buick, theology is what goes on inside the Buick plant. Our Anglican formula is Scripture, Reason, Tradition, to which add Experience, but is Experience toned by Expectation -- as the BVM looking up from my tea leaves? If I want a pope to become a saint it isn’t all that difficult to perceive a miracle, is it. Tradition, Scripture, Reason, Experience, Expectation.

Where is this going, all too early? Linda said I’m blogging an awful lot about death lately. Yes, but it is not Premonition or Fear, it’s Easter, Greater Easter. Easter begins with Death, or at least, my Easter did this year. For the Observer in the Tree, it moves to Grief; but for the Experiencer on the Cross, to Oblivion -- all of which is the essence of our theological line "the way of the cross (is) the way of life (BCP430). Finally, Easter dawns with Life. After Friday, I stayed in the tree Saturday, alliteratively watching, wondering, weeping, waiting. Sunday, I did Alleluia and Thanksgiving. Comes Monday.  

Monday. Should I try to work out Why I’m Three more than simplistically driving round the block of familiar houses, stop signs, trees and sidewalks, round and back into the garage? Begin with Schleiermacher, within each of us is implanted a sense of the infinite but God cannot be boxed and known in a Creed, God passeth human knowing. Or escape with Steve Jobs and not let myself be dogmatized by other people’s thinking? Or just let it be, which is not my nature.

Incomprehensible, all Three of It (BCP864).

RSF&PTL.

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