Bishop dreams

Remembering and reclaiming chutzpah.

In my dreams

Pieces of the past

Make themselves present,

Weave new stories.

One of my first bishops

Arrives for Thanksgiving dinner.

I introduce him

To the family.

He praises the seasoning

On the filet mignon.

Awake

I tell stories

Real stories

Non-dreamed stories

To my beloved

Of this bishop

How I redefined the rules,

How he let me

Redefine the rules

So I could vote at Convention:

Me

A priest in my late twenties..

I had chutzpah then.

I guess that’s where

It came from.

First

So.  England now has her first woman bishop.  This slightly cynical priest, a woman from the second wave of women clergy in TEC, began this reflection, then came around to prayer at the end.  May we all arrive there, eventually.

So

The first woman bishop

The first black president

The first of anyone,

The first of anything.

It’s always noted.

And so many

Oh so many

Stop counting there

As if it is over and done with

As if

It never needs to happen again

Because it has happened once

And therefore

Everything has changed

For good.

May the first

Not be the last.

May the line of bishops

And presidents

Be colorful

Even

Gender complete.

Amen.

Therapist dream

It's amazing who shows up in dreams.  What's perhaps even more amazing is how the anti-depressant works, even when three unscheduled clients show up at once, and the Bishop walks through.

Last night

Three clients appeared

At once.

Oh, my bad

I said

Even though I had only one client

In my appointment book

And that one

Was none of the three

Who showed.

My bad

I said

Even though

I never use that expression.

Let’s reschedule

I said

With all three grouped

In my office

But not the one I knew

Might arrive

Any minute.

Then the Bishop arrived

To make himself a cup of coffee.

I could tell

He wanted me to introduce him

To the three assembled.

I didn’t.

There are,

After all,

Rules of confidentiality.

Released

I began writing this for my friend, Matt Gunter, now bishop of Fond du Lac.  I was saddened when he left St. Barnabas because he was one of a very few colleagues who understood my call to be a mediator in this beloved Church of ours.  Now he has been released to be a bishop to the North and beyond.  And me?  I have been released to stay here.  

My friend has been released

To a wider audience.

It seems I have been released

As well,

Released to hear more

One thing at a time

An almost cloistered life

Hidden

In this blooming burgeoning world

Still

Not hidden quite.

I am a goldfinch

Among the dandelions

I pay attention to each

Yellow bloom

Move on to the next

I am released into life

Almost

A cloistered life

But still not hidden

Rather released

As much as my friend.