Ascending to the Mather

Ascension Day is coming up.

"This is "the good stuff" according to the new High Priestess at the Anglican church I have taken refuge in until the RC church comes to its senses.

Now I know I have blathered on in the past about deciding to give Yahweh His due when I am in His church but this is the new me speaking, the post breast cancer me,

the totally, nothing to lose, HONEST me. 

And the truth is

the patriarchal church still pisses me off.

So I have decided, seeing as I suspect God doesn't have a gender anyway and probably has more important things to contemplate than whether I should be struck down by a lightning bolt 

to coin a new inclusive name for our unknowable deity.

And here it is:

The Mather  

(rhymes with father but starts with mother)

I just know you missed me.

:)

Mother Deer Mother

I happened to find this video clip in my face book feed this

morning.


As you might imagine this image took my breath away.


The contrast between the cold ritualized church and the pagan

wildness of the animal speaks about the state of my soul.




You can read more about The Mother in Her female reindeer 

garb here.

The Dart Players

Do you see the female figure between the two men?

I didn't plan it but I was interested to see She was there.

The Mother seems to be everywhere.

Even church - although that is the last place I 

thought I would find Her.

Part of a particularly lovely contemporary 

Anglican hymn:

She Flies On

Refrain: She comes sailing on the wind

Her wings flashing in the sun

on a journey just begun, She flies on.

And in the passage of Her light

Her song rings out through the night;

full of laughter, full of light, She flies on ...

Desert turned to gardens ...

and down through the ages she flew on ...

Refrain

Long after the deep darkness

that fell upon the word,

after dawn returned in flame of rising sun,

the Spirit touched the earth again,

again Her wings unfurled,

bringing life in wind and fire as She flew on.  

Refrain

Honouring the Mother

Many years ago I went on a bike tour of Bavaria.


We cycled through rural communities and often 

found ourselves in dark forests.


And in the darkest parts of the forest it wasn't 

unusual to come across a small grotto dedicated to 

the Virgin.


A burning candle and Her image behind a wire gate.

The whole thing no more than a foot high.


To see it you had to kneel.


Each grotto verdant, 

Smelling of damp earth.

Strangely fecund.


A holy place.

Honouring the Father

Lately I've come to the conclusion that the Christian

Church belongs totally to Yahweh.

In other words I don't change the words to every 

prayer and response anymore, i.e., saying the "Our 

Mother" instead of the "Our Father". 

I've decided that when I'm there, I'm going to 

honour the Father.

The Good Father. 

The Protector, Defender, Lover, Partner

of the Great Mother who is always creating.

Words to Live By

Last Sunday's sermon was what is probably the annual, 

"You thought you couldn't buy your way

into heaven? ?  Well I'm here to tell you that you can" sermon.

The problem with those kind of talks is that those who get the message already give generously of their money and time.  It just makes them feel guilty so they double their efforts and eventually just burn out.

It goes right over the heads of everyone else.

Anyway I burnt out years ago so I let my eyes drift around the beautiful old church.

A teen age girl was slumped a few pews ahead of me - way too young to care about much other than her own changing body.

Suddenly, because I wasn't listening and didn't notice, it was time to stand.

The girl heaved herself up.

And that's when I got my sermon from God the Mother for this week.

For thus I say unto you in huge letters across the back the girl's hoodie were written these words:

Shut Up and Dance.

***