[Magdalen] Transformations

[James Handsfield]

Dear friends,

It’s time, I think, to share something with you about myself.  Maybe you can consider it a new addendum to my bio.

I have been seeing my life over the past three or so years as a time of newness.  The newness of Marcy’s ALS, the newness of each time Marcy needed help for another activity, the newness of my learning to be a caregiver, the newness of my acknowledgment of my alcoholism, the newness brought by Marcy’s death, the newness of my grief, the newness of turning 70 last October, the newness of learning again to live in greater solitude, my reaffirmation by +Rob Wright.  In late January, something finally came to me that I’ve known intellectually for year - when I think or talk of God, I have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about.  That’s a good thing, because if I understood God, it would be a god of my own intellect and imagination; if I can imagine god, I can control that god.

With the guidance of my spiritual director, I went on silent, directed retreat in Holy Week (three nights - Monday - Wednesday) at Green Bough House of Prayer near Dublin, GA.  It was a time like none other in my life.

I’ve never found the Labyrinth to be a useful tool in my spirituality until this retreat.  When I first met with Fay, the spiritual director of Green Bough, on Tuesday morning, I really unloaded a virtual shotgun of questions and wonderings.  We talked of Marcy’s death.  I also told her that I’ve loved three women in my life:  Lynn, Linda, and Marcy.  I married Marcy, as you know.

Lynn was my beloved in my first year in college at the American College of Switzerland.  We were, obviously, quite young, but I loved her dearly and she loved me.  She became ill toward the end of the second semester and went home for treatment.  I saw her once again in July in DC for my brother’s wedding to his first wife.  After that, we lost contact.  Losing contact is my doing - I was simply to lazy and, perhaps, immature to keep in touch.  Thirty years later (about), she located me through an internet search and called me.  She told me many things:  that her father told her that I’d been drafted into the Army and killed in Vietnam (I suppose he was just trying to protect her);  and she told me she miscarried my child.  I discovered that there was a hole in my heart I was unaware of.  She wanted to name the child after me, but didn’t know the fetus’ sex.  I suggested Jamie as it could be used for either boy or girl.  Jamie would be in her (for some reason I sense she’s female) early 50s.

Five years later when I’d gone back to school at San Diego State University, I met Linda.  We also fell in love.  We were together two years, and along the way, she told me she was pregnant.  Through my mother’s influence, Linda aborted the pregnancy - twin boys.  

Marcy never knew about Lynn or Linda (she knew Lynn was a college girlfriend but nothing more), and she never knew about the children.  Fay suggested that I write to Marcy (something my sponsor had already suggested) and tell her everything, which I did.  I read her that letter on Holy Saturday between the Good Friday liturgy and the Easter Vigil.  Fay also suggested I name the boys, and after a little thought, I named them Ellis and Hugh after Linda’s and my father respectively.  Ellis and Hugh would be in their mid to late 40s.  After writing to Marcy, I spoke with the three children (now adults) and finally felt the full grief of what I had done.  By the way, I think my over dependence on my mother was probably the reason Linda and I separated.  I know nothing of Linda’s whereabouts; I’m in FB contact with Lynn and her daughter.

In the middle of doing that, I approached the Labyrinth with an intent that walking it would be a sacramental of the pilgrimage of Discovery that is the rest of my life.  I took several photos with my iPhone that has become my journal of it.  I took a picture of everything that caught my eye - most of it quite plain, but lovely.  The Labyrinth at Green Bough is a path cleared in the natural vegetation of that part of Georgia.  It’s a living Labyrinth.  As I walked in, I felt closer and closer to all of Creation from the smallest subatomic particle (Higg’s boson?) to the farthest reaches of the galaxy and whatever science may discover in the future.  All of this is really distilled down from the newness of my life.  When I reached the center, I rested on the chair, and came to realize that, in the pilgrimage that is the rest of my life, I desire to give my self completely to God - to empty myself back to God.  I know, of course, that I will do so imperfectly if I’ll be able to do that at all.

It was clear to me that all of Creation is of the Cosmic Christ; that God has so completely emptied God’s own Self into it that when I try to see God, there’s nothing left, and that God continues giving God’s self through eternity.  And I came to understand that I’m a part of it.  The part of God that is in me enables me to see and recognize all of this, and enables me to desire and love all of it.  The love that is God in me enables my love for all of you.  And I find myself smack in the middle of this Trinity, fully a part of it.  Even when I die, my mortal self will decay and return to the elements and I will continue as part of Creation forever.  I also decided to deal with an inkling that has been rattling around for quite some time that I may have the charisms for ordained ministry.  I realized that contemplating it on my own would never provide an answer, so I determined to offer my self to the Church for discernment.  I have no idea how that will turn out, but however it turns out, I will learn something of myself.  The only urgency is that I’m 70 years old, but I’m at peace about it.

When I met with Fay that afternoon, she rejoiced in my discovery.  She gave me a verse of Scripture that has become a mantra to me:  Luke 12:32 - “It is God’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”  As I repeat it, I stress different words:  It is GOD’s good pleasure . . . ; It is God’s GOOD pleasure. . . ;  It is God’s good PLEASURE . . . ; etc.  As I repeat that I find myself internally falling to my knees (I’d do it actually, but I’m not sure I’d be able to get up again).  Sometimes I replace ‘you’ with ‘me’.

As I said, the retreat was silent, but we broke silence after dinner that day and had some time so socialize with the staff and other retreatants.  What a joy to get to know them a little.

Thursday before I left, I walked the Labyrinth one more time.  This time, while praying in the center, I found my answer to Everything:  Amen.  To fully accept everything that is a part of Creation and the Giving and the Loving.  Good and bad, it’s all a part of Creation.  That doesn’t mean we can’t do something about it, but even the most evil has to be accepted as a distortion of God’s will for Creation, usually by our human desire for things over relationships.

So I returned home changed, I hope for the better.  Maundy Thursday liturgy had a newness about it with my thought that God is in everything in Creation, so the ritual of the Eucharist is, in a way, the recognition of what already exists.  And the Good Friday liturgy became a liturgy of Completeness - the Completeness of Jesus human life, the Completeness of salvation, the Completeness that Creation continues.  I think I also realized at that liturgy that my retreat had started my learning how to die.  I don’t mean that in any morbid sense and I’m not going to rush the issue.  But when I die, it will be the completeness of my mortal life, and my body will decay and return to the elements of the earth and remain a part of Creation.  I don’t know if I will retain sentience, but that’s by business.

On Saturday, when I read my letter to Marcy and offered my amends to her, I understood that she is now in Love, along with Jamie, Ellis, and Hugh.  My grief has been transformed.  I still miss Marcy and the children, but they know I love them all, and I know they love me.

Easter Vigil was a reminder that God’s self emptying persists in all Creation and in all humanity.  We are not on the outside looking in to the Trinity.  We are smack in the middle of the Trinity, surrounded by God’s Self giving; through, with, and in the Christ that is all Creation, and with the flame burning inside that is the Holy Spirit.

I met with Chad on Wednesday, and we started the conversation of discernment.  I told him about all the above.  A few weeks ago, he asked if I was ready to resume a more active role in the life of St. Bede’s and I said yes.  I told him again on Wednesday that I meant it.  So now I will rejoin the rotation of lectors and Eucharistic minister, Tomorrow I’m going to help turn over the vegetable gardens at St. Bede’s that will provide produce for the NET Pantry, I will try to march for science as part of Earth Day tomorrow as well.

If you’ve lasted this long, thank you for reading.  I am a man at Peace and excitedly looking forward to wherever this pilgrimage that is the rest of my life will take me.


Alleluia!  Christ is risen!

James Handsfield
jhandsfield at att.net