★★★★★

Victoria is the minister at the White Bear Unitarian Universalist Church in Mahtomedi, MN, just a few miles from where I live. I’ve only met her briefly, but we’ve communicated a bit by email, and I’ve come to appreciate her sincerity and genuineness.

This little booklet presents various reflections on life and purpose. It works great as a month-long collection of morning meditations. It’s not meant to describe UU teachings, but it gives a flavor for the sacred, while managing to avoid any particular religious paradigm—no foundation upon any single religious teacher such as Jesus.

Victoria gave me permission to simply quote an essay from her booklet. This is the one I chose, titled In Between, a particularly poignant selection for me as I just became a first-time grandpa on Sunday … and quickly picked up the phone to share my joy with my elderly mother. 

**  **  **

One afternoon some time ago I brought my little baby out to visit a very, very old neighbor who was dying that year, quietly and gracefully, in her gracious home. We were having a little birthday party for her, with sherry and cake and a few old friends gathered round her bed. To free a hand to cut the cake, I put my baby down right on the bed, right up on the pillow—and there was a sudden hush in the room, for we were caught off guard, beholding.

It was a startling sight. There in the late afternoon light were two people side by side, two human merely beings. Neither one could walk, neither one could speak, not in language you could understand, both utterly dependent on the rest of us bustling around, masquerading as immortals. There they were: a plump one, apple-cheeked, a cherry tomato of a babe, smiling; and a silver-thin one, hollow-eyed, translucent, shining, smiling. We revelers were hushed because we clearly saw that these were dancers on the very edge of things. These two were closer to the threshold, the edge of the great mystery, than any of us had been for a long time or would be for a while. living, breathing, smiling they were, but each with one foot and who knows how much consciousness firmly planted on the other side, whatever that is, wherever that is, the starry darkness from whence we come and whither we will go, in time. Fresh from birth, nigh unto death, bright-eyed, they were bookends there, mirrors of each other. Radiant.

Cake in hand, and napkins, knife, glasses, a crystal carafe a century old, we paused there on the thresholds of our own momentary lives. Then, “What shall we sing?” said someone, to the silence, to the sunlight on the covers, to the stars. It was the only question, then, as now, years later. What on earth shall we sing?

Cursed be he that lieth with his mother in law. And all the people shall say, Amen.

//Anyone who has read much of the Old Testament knows that the Hebrew Law had grown quite large and confusing. Scholars generally divide the law into five sections, developed at five different times in history. Here are these five sections:

Trust me: you don’t want to be cursed. It means that the violator is condemned within his community, no longer a respectable member in a society which very much depends upon one another. That is why all twelve laws end with the refrain, “And all the people shall say, ‘Amen!’”

★★★★

If I recall correctly, I requested this book from the author, rather than it just being sent to me for review. It struck me as interesting that a Roman Catholic of 45 years, who served as Deacon within the Archdiocese of Hartford, would leave it all behind to become a minister of a Protestant church … while still affirming the validity of the Catholic Church!  LaRochelle not only crossed the street to see what the neighbors were like, he took up residence there.

Why step down from the one true church? What is the difference between Catholic and Protestant, anyway? And how does it feel to be excommunicated from one’s lifetime heritage … for that is Roman Catholic canon law for LaRochelle’s situation.

He left in part because he could not uphold certain doctrines, such as the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption of Mary. He also felt uncomfortable with conservative church stances against such things as abortion and gay marriage, and even more innocuous issues like birth control and annulment. (Odd that over 90% of Roman Catholic couples practice some form on contraception in opposition to official church teachings.) He notes differences in religious philosophy, such as the Catholic reliance upon papal decisions versus the Protestant insistence that our only needed answers come from the Bible.

The book was a little dry in places, but it still held my attention well. The most powerful passages are the personal ones, telling LaRochelle’s own maverick story. The most interesting were the insights into Catholic doctrine, and how it has shifted in emphasis over the last half-century. The most meaningful are surely those that extol the positive contributions of both Protestant and Catholic traditions to the universal church. By “universal church,” LaRochelle means Christians; while he briefly encourages opening our understanding to other religions as well, that is not the focus of the book.

LaRochelle speaks of being “profoundly grateful for the gifts I have received from both my Catholic and Protestant heritages,” but he notes that crossing the street isn’t easy. Those on the Religious Right tend to label more progressive believers as possessing something less than the truth faith. Conversely, it is extremely difficult for the progressive side to be at ease with a fundamentalist position. Yet LaRochelle points us to the words of Jesus who, in a moment of prayer not long before he was killed, pleaded that those who would be his followers might “all be one.”

Then the disciples went back to their homes, but Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.

//Yesterday, I pointed out the growing legend of angels at the tomb of Jesus. The three Synoptic Gospels portray first a man in white, then an angel in white, then two men/angels in white. In Mark and Matthew, the angel is sitting outside the tomb, on the stone door. In Luke, the two angels are inside the tomb, standing.

Will the final Gospel settle the argument?

The first thing to notice is that John sets one record straight: Luke is right. Two angels, and they’re inside the tomb, not outside. They sit (no longer stand) precisely where Jesus was laid.

In John’s Gospel, the two beings are called angels, but with a twist. Peter and John themselves, standing inside the tomb, see no angels. But they see something else, and it makes one think.

They see two white piles. A pile of linen, and a burial cloth. John takes pains to point out that they are in two separate piles. The cloth was folded up by itself, separate from the linen. Could he be subtly giving us a clue, here?

Now, Mary, peering into the darkness of the tomb after Peter and John have gone home, sees two “angels in white,” precisely where the piles of white rested.

Is the mystery solved?

As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.

//This verse comes from the book of Mark, our earliest gospel. All translations agree, the being is a “young man dressed in white.” There is no indication whatsoever that this young man is an angel. But the legend grows a bit as we reach Matthew, the second Gospel written:

Matthew 28:2-3, There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow.

Our young man in white has become an angel. Interesting. The third Gospel, Luke, like Matthew was also written with Mark in hand, but it elaborates in a different direction:

Luke 24:4, While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them.

So we’re back to men, not angels, but one man has become two. Luke may be unaware that Matthew changed the man into an angel … yet the robes they wear in Luke’s telling gleam like lightning. Regardless of whether it’s they or their robes that gleam, something is up with these guys! But why two men instead of one?

Stay tuned for part II, when we unmask the men/angels in a controversial finish.

Then the high priest rent his clothes, saying, He hath spoken blasphemy; what further need have we of witnesses?

Here’s the interesting question: what was Caiaphas wearing? Were they his ceremonial garments? The high priest wore a sleeveless, purple robe hemmed with blue, purple and scarlet tassels shaped like pomegranates alternating with small bells. Only the high priest could don this robe, and only for very special occasions … like Passover Week. At the time of Jesus, this special robe was stored in the Antonia fortress next to the Temple, under Roman lock and key, allowed out only for the ritual celebrations.

Adding to the debate is the word that Matthew uses to refer to the garment: himation, rather than the Gospel of Mark’s more common term chiton. This switch in wording may be meant to refer directly to the ceremonial robe, which would mean that Caiaphas deliberately broke the law forbidding the tearing of holy garments. Presumably, in Matthew’s telling, this act foreshadows the destruction of the Temple 40 years later and the end of the priesthood ceremonies.

//Readers of the Bible are familiar with many different ways to get to heaven. Jesus ascended from a mountain. John visited heaven in a vision. Enoch appears to have been stolen up by the hand of God. Elijah flew up in a chariot. Clouds appear to be common vehicles for transport to and from heaven. You can probably think of other examples.

But here’s a trick you might not know about. When the angel came to Samson’s parents telling them they would have a son, he (the angel) went back home to heaven by asking them to sacrifice a goat to God on an altar. Once the fire grew strong, he hopped into the fire and rode the flame up to heaven.

Don’t try this one at home, folks.