Radical Hospitality

I have previously mentioned that I am working my way through The Rule of Benedict.  However, my good friend and cyber sistah, Maria, often talks about Benedictine radical hospitality.  Back in the way back, weary travelers could appeal to the brothers at a Benedictine abbey for shelter and they would be welcomed.

Although my brain can wrap itself around that level of hospitality, my contemporary brain ends up thinking of the brothers as an early Holiday Inn Express.  As an image wandering travelers knocking at a gate and being welcomed with food, drink, and shelter just doesn't translate well for me.

Now Victor Hugo gave me a much better example of radical hospitality that I still wrestle with wondering if I would be able to be that welcoming.  In Les Miserables, early on Jean Valjean has been released after something like 18 years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his starving family. 

In 19th century France, a convict was forced to carry yellow identifying papers that were presented for everything and to not do so was cause enough to be sent back to prison for violating one's parole.  Further, this was a time when towns closed their gates at night, unknown travelers were not trusted, and vagrancy was darn near criminal.  Odds were highly stacked against a prisoner sent back into the world.  Nothing like today (snort).

Jean Valjean knocks at the door of a kindly bishop who apparently lived modestly when one considers how bishops live today.  Jean Valjean is exhausted, hungry, and without hope.  He presents his papers expecting to be turned away, but the bishop invites him in as his guest.  The cook/housekeeper is suspicious and sets the table with wooden dishes.  The bishop corrects her and instructs her to lay out the silver for their guest.  She is, of course, appalled.

I'm tempted to side step a bit and tell you the story of the frog and the scorpion but I will give you the bare essentials.  After convincing the frog to carry him across the rising river to safety, the scorpion stings the frog.  The frog asks the scorpion why he did that - that they will both die.  The scorpion's response, "I couldn't help myself, I'm a scorpion."

Well, Jean Valjean, in a moment of weakness, sneaks from his bed and bags up the silver plates and utensils and leaves...

Not far down the road he is stopped and searched.  The combined possession of his yellow convict papers with a bag of silver aroused the officer's suspicion.  In a moment of desperation, Jean Valjean tells him that the bishop gave him the silver.  He is forced to return with the officer and is mortified to face the man who's kindness he rewarded with theft.

This is where the bishop's hospitality crosses over into the radical variety.  The bishop answers the door and in an instant understands the circumstances.  He chides Jean Valjean for forgetting to take the candlesticks as   well.  The officer is astonished, as is Jean Valjean.  The bishop reminds him that he had given him the silver so he could turn around his life.

THAT is radical hospitality and I don't know if I would be able to follow the bishop's example.

I have tried though.  Time and again I offered things to my former neighbor out of compassion, not expecting financial compensation.  Once I called him and asked him if he knew how to fix washers...he was a bit suspicious, "Yes.  Why?"  Well, I had bought a new washer and was going to give him my old one for one of his rental properties if he wanted it.  It was in need of minor repairs.

Recently I responded to a request for housing.  After living alone most of my adult life, I will be renting space to a graduate student and his dog.  I continue to learn much from Benedict and feel very optimistic about this arrangement.  Being able to share my home just seems right.

Peace.

Dirty Windows

I have lived in this log home (see pic above) for nigh on seven years.  I lived in my house in town for almost seven years.  Cleaning the windows was never a big priority.  However, in town the house was a small ranch and I did clean them on occasion myself.  This house is a bit of a tree house placing the windows up a whole story above the house in town.  Further, this being the woods, this house is darker surrounded as it is by big tall trees.

About a year ago, I finally decided to hire in some help and get the place thoroughly cleaned. Two years of mysterious pain and disability had worn me down.  The house was filthy and I simply didn't have the strength and ability to clean it properly.  As part of the "super clean" that I requested of the agency I hired, I requested that the windows and screens get cleaned.

The day of the big clean arrived and Cindy brought along a window cleaning man as a sub contractor.  I was simply astounded by the results.  More than one friend of mine, upon seeing the change, commented that it was about time I had gotten around to getting the windows cleaned.

This is how I also experience my depression.  Mine is not the unwashed, lying in a dark room, not eating, not sleeping variety.  It is much more the frog in the tepid water, heated and slowly boiling to death.

Despite an awareness that March/April is the worst time of year for me - apparently I can't even do seasonal depression right - I still couldn't recognize how dirty my emotional windows had become.

I met with my doctor and we talked about the season and decided that if after roughly a month with the onset of spring and warm weather I still had not improved, I should increase my medication (Lexapro).  I took a much needed vacation and went to visit with friends.  However, once back home and at work I knew things were not improving.

I feel very fortunate that I have such a wonderful response to my drug.  Many people don't seem to have the results that I experience.  Within a very short time, I was looking through sparkling clean windows again and wondering why I had waited so long.

In my defense, I will say that chronic pain and fatigue from my auto immune condition in combination with the ongoing attempt to wean off the prednisone, and the constant though improved fluctuation of my blood sugars with the diabetes...it was very difficult to assess what was going on - all I knew for certain was I had no energy, I was requiring longer than usual amount of sleep each night, and my mood sucked.

I can't help wondering about the dirty windows though.  Why didn't those friends ever mention the appalling state of my windows and encourage me to get them cleaned?  Was it out of politeness?  Were they afraid I would get angry?  Were they afraid I might ask them for help?  How do you react when you see a friend of yours with dirty windows?  What do you do?  It's not an easy question.

Peace.

Planet of the...Apes?

"Beware the beast Man, for he is the Devil's pawn. Alone among God's primates, he kills for sport or lust or greed. Yea, he will murder his brother to possess his brother's land. Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours. Shun him; drive him back into his jungle lair, for he is the harbinger of death."  from the Sacred Scrolls (Planet of the Apes)

Believe it or not I have been thinking about Roddy McDowell as Cornelius reading from the scrolls in the movie in response to the news of that ghastly "zombie" attack in Florida.  I only read a bit of the text of what occurred and couldn't bring myself to read more let alone investigate the You Tube video clip and photos.  My God what have we come to?

The attacker, shot dead by police, was apparently high on "bath salts" - sold in head shops as a new high.  Individuals who actually bother to snort this nasty chemical combination experience a high that can end in fits of extreme paranoia and violence.

I recall reading an article a year or so ago about two brothers on a boat in Florida who came across a plastic wrapped package of white powder floating on the lake.  The one brother thought perhaps he had hit the mother load and snorted what he hoped was cocaine up his nose.  Before long he was out of control, ripping the boat apart.  He died a few hours later at the hospital.

What does it say about these individuals that they would knowingly ingest chemical compounds into their bodies for the sake of some delirium? What does it say about us as a species?

From what I understand, it is not uncommon to seek out "out of body" experiences - even in the animal kingdom.  Little kids will spin in circles around and around just to experience the dizziness.  Older children will climb onto amusement park rides that spin their bodies round and round and turn them upside down.  Even older kids will drink alcohol or smoke marijuana, among other substances.

In the animal world, birds and beasts of a variety of species will gorge themselves on fermenting berries and fruit, simply for the intoxicating qualities they possess.

In the case of the "bath salts" or crystal meth - where chemical compounds are poisoning our bodies for the sake of a high - that is where I am baffled.  If one was raised in most Christian denominations you were taught that the human body is a temple.  Whether or not you believe in the Resurrection or life hereafter, you would have to agree that our bodies are very essential to life.  Yet in so many ways we ransack that temple without a second thought to what we are destroying.

Isn't this also how we treat the planet?

For the sake of our highs (economic, comfort, excitement) we pollute and devastate the planet.

One wonders if there is simply something wrong in our DNA.  After all, is their really that much difference between one man high on bath salts, ripping the face off of another human with his teeth and a corporation high on profits, ripping apart the mountains of West Virginia for the sake of cheaper coal?

Peace.