 Ed Garren, WeHoNews.com’s roving columnist bringing West Hollywood to Red America and vice versa. By Ryan Gierach. |
Though it is an Episcopal church, it is much more. It is the national house of prayer. It takes on the responsibility for the spiritual health of the nation, and as such is open to all. To worship there is both familiar and precious. For Episcopalians, it is the closest thing to the Wailing Wall, Mecca or a holy mountain. It is a living place, a piece of moon rock is in one of the stained glass windows.
If a single Sunday of the year embodies the Christian gospel, it is Palm Sunday. The service program says, "The jarring intersection of triumph and defeat encompassed in this worship shows us that when the power of self and the power of this world fail utterly, it is in this humble, frail Jesus of Nazareth that the power of God is revealed. -- There is no moment of defeat, of alienation, of brokenness, or even death itself that can keep God from us".
 ADVERTISEMENT |
"Have mercy on me O Lord, for I am in trouble; my eye is consumed with sorrow, and also my throat and my belly", the words of Psalm 31 are like warm darts on my spirit.
In this little piece of time and place, I review my life. Blessed (or cursed) with a very good and photographic memory, the tragedies of my life are re-played in rapid fire, like a scene of a movie. I can still hear the propeller of the air boat I almost stepped into, can still here the hum of the Rambler six straining toward my rendezvous with self destruction, feel the almost crush of my chest as I stepped out of the path of the truck, the brush of air of the bus I almost stepped in front of. I can hear the whispers and shouts of rejection, the "Who does he think he is?" behind my back.
 Ed under a natural cathedral in North Carolina. By Ed Garren. |
"I have become a reproach to all my enemies and even to my neighbors, a dismay to those of my acquaintance; when they see me in the street they avoid me." This is someone's life, anyone's life, and surely it has been, my life.
I can also feel the smiles, laughter and tears of friends and family, the moments of grace and love pass through me like a gentle flood. My voice struggles to speak the psalms and responses through my tears, my contacts filled with the salt of my tears, burn in my eyes.
The Episcopal Church has never referred to anyone as the "Christ Killers" or all that mess. We are taught as children and reminded as adults, that we all framed Jesus, and do it everyday with arrogance, greed, cold heartedness, jealousy, and other forms of inhumanity. When we deny or own humanity, or the humanity of others, we kill Christ, and we all do it, it's part of being human, no one has clean hands.
"I am forgotten like a dead man, out of mind; I am as useless as a broken pot."
 By Ryan Gierach. |
I wade in my own personal pool of tears. I feel no morbidity, no dread, indeed, I am crying with joy and release, recounting the miracles of my life, beginning with the very miracle of being alive. The bitter sweet lusciousness, memories of a full and interesting journey surround me like warm waters from a spring. They bring comfort to my sore feet, cleansing to my soul. I am in the middle of my sojourn, and it is rich, oh so rich.
I see my mother in my mind's eye, now lost in dementia, with memory evaporating, her wading pool is going dry. Only a few drops of memory remain. Soon they will evaporate, and she will only be left with now. In time she will slip into eternity, the pool of light from which she and all of us emerge , travel our earthly highway, and return, our few days, gravity laden with the weight of earthly things.
"What language shall I borrow to thank thee dearest friend, for this thy dying sorrow, thy pity without end? Oh make me thine forever! And should I fainting be, Lord, let me never never, out live my love for thee". (from "Oh Sacred Head Sore Wounded", words Paul Gerhardt (1607-1676)).
So, I delight in the moments of spirit, where gravity is tempered, and all things float easily on the pool of tears. It is oh so very very good to be alive.
Edward "Ed" Garren, MFT, is a Family Therapist, justice activist, former West Hollywood City Council candidate, writer and sojourner. He is originally from the Tampa Bay area of central Florida. Ed has been published in the Los Angeles Times, Frontiers news magazine, and other books, including "Out of My Mind,” a pictorial memoir by Kris Nelson. He is currently working on a book about Addiction in America.
Ed Garren can be reached, even in the Red America’s wilds, at