Ellen doing her Donna Reed impression
If cleanliness is next to godliness, I must be halfway to heaven by now.
I don’t know what’s come over me. I don’t even have laundry to do. Is that disgusting or what?
I say my prayers every day. There must be a virus going around.
For months I’ve been resisting God every day, over everything. I felt completely incapable of doing anything for myself or anyone else. Then last week (Ash Wednesday, come to think of it), I wrote a sign and taped it to my bedroom door:
Don’t say “I can’t,” say “I won’t!”
Well Lord have mercy, that changed everything. Like I actually took responsibility or somethin’.
It’s amazing. I threw out all the dead food from my refrigerator—and scrubbed the shelves. Scary, huh?
The kitchen floor’s all shiny. There are clean towels in the guest bathroom. Do you have any laundry I could do?
I mean, my life isn’t perfect and my house isn’t either; I’ve got a garage full of recycling to drive down the street. I don’t go outside when it’s cold if I can possibly help it. But Thursday it was nearly 70º in the state capital, so it’s time to load up the car. Spring is here.
The sectionals are going on this week (boys’ basketball, the Hoosier religion), so the warming trend is right on time. Next week during the regionals, it will snow; that will be the last of the season. It always happens this way, snow for the regionals. Everyone always acts so surprised, but it’s been going on like this for as long as I can remember. Once the snow is gone we’ll begin a slow warmup through the rest of March and April, and then come May the glory of God will appear: sunshine and warmth!
Anyone can pray in nice weather; praying in Lent, when it’s cold and dreary out, takes some doing—that is, it takes a decision.
I have one other source to credit for my sudden burst of functionality: an English old lady mystic from the 14th Century named Julian of Norwich. On my prayer site here, I’ve been podcasting short daily readings of her Divine Revelations, from the translation by Fr. John-Julian, OJN, called A Lesson of Love. If you haven’t read it, you’re missing out. I recommend it to every Christian and every spiritual person. She’s about 600 years ahead of her time. Her insights into the nature of God and our relationship with “him” are just astonishing.
• God is pure love. Nothing else really exists. God’s love for us is complete, just as we now are.
• God’s dwelling place is inside our bodies, inside our souls. To know God is to know our own soul.
• God is our Mother as well as our Father. Jesus is both Son and Mother.
• Sin is necessary, part of God’s plan. Sin isn’t good, it hurts us, but it brings us closer to God.
• The soul’s goal is to be one’d with God in everlasting bliss. In this life even a moment of such bliss is a window to what awaits us after we die.
• The Passion of Christ, that is, his crucifixion, is God’s act of one-ing himself with us.
She described the Passion in horrific, medieval detail, because Christ’s suffering and death are God’s means of one-ing us to the Divine.
You’ve gotta read it. She’s incredible. Even the parts that strain your mind and your credulity bespeak astonishing truths.
Julian is as far away from a TV preacher as you can get. (That alone should sell her to LGBT people.) Yet her faith is utterly orthodox.
She won’t get your laundry done for you, but she’ll make you feel loved like never before.
After that, our next step is taking responsibility for acting unloved/not loving ourselves, the great spiritual problem for Gay people.
Jesus on the Cross? If you’re Gay, he’s Gay; if you’re Trans, so’s she. That is how completely God enters our lives, enough to dwell inside our bodies and souls.
Remember Cornelius and the servant whom he loved. The first Gentile believer was a Roman soldier who was Gay. You think Jesus didn’t know what they were up to? He healed the boy anyway, because love is love.
Now act like it. You won’t need me to cure your washday woes, you’ll start living more fully here and now, taking care of what needs to be done.
• Jesus is our Lover, not Francesco D’Macho; our real life, honest to God Lover.++