hell

Letters from Hell #3 – Jesus

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 4 Comments

In hell, everything is a distorted and twisted version of its true self. This is especially true of the man called Jesus, after whom Christianity was given its name.

Say what you will about the Catholic Church (I will not argue), in the parishes and schools in which I was raised, above anything else, we were taught that Jesus was Love. Therefore, by association, so too was God. Rather, Jesus came to remind us that despite humanity’s desire to make God in their own image, God was, in fact, Love.  Period. End of sentence. End of paragraph. In the Church in which I was raised, this God loved all of humanity without condition. It didn’t matter your race, your nationality, your gender, or even your religion, God loved all infinitely and abundantly.

The Jesus that taught this Love is not the Jesus that exists in hell. Instead, the Jesus of hell (and therefore the God he represents) plays favorites. This Jesus divides humanity into “true believers” and “the damned.” This Jesus encourages his followers to hate those who are not like them – to hate people of color, women, people who follow other gods (isn’t there only one God? At least that’s what I was always taught), essentially anyone who isn’t a straight, white, male. Even more strange than this, the Jesus in hell is American.

I’m not sure how a brown-skinned, middle eastern Jewish man became American, but to Christian Nationalists, it is America who has received a special blessing from Christ along with the command to convert the whole country (and then the world) into Evangelical, Fundamentalist Christianity.

Like I said, the Jesus in hell is bizarre! This Jesus is a stranger to me. I don’t know who he is or where he came from.

Actually, that’s not true. I know exactly where he came from because I’ve seen it happen with my own eyes.

The Jesus in hell is born out of humanity’s fears.

I’ve seen it over and over and over. Seemingly normal human beings who have been able to live in harmony and peace with people of differing beliefs and lifestyles, suddenly turning toward fundamentalism in its many forms. Every single time, this dramatic turning around is precipitated by something traumatic that casts the individual into fear, and its ugly bed-fellow – shame.

Let me provide a few examples from my own Catholic experience.

  • The young woman who found herself unexpectedly pregnant and who chose to terminate the pregnancy and who never sought out the help that might have supported her in self-forgiveness, who later turned to fundamentalist Catholicism (yes, that’s a thing) so she could be absolved of her guilt (she never did accept the fullness of God’s love that would have allowed her to release her shame, dying with that shame).
  • The young adult man who experienced an enjoyable sexual encounter with another man but became ashamed of the act as he was unwilling to accept that he might be gay. He also turned to fundamentalist Catholicism so that he might earn God’s forgiveness.
  • The adult woman who was once excited and open about some of the “new age” authors of the 90’s, who later discovered her child was being molested by a family member. She dropped all “new age” authors believing they were the cause of the trauma that happened in their family and then became a devout fundamentalist Catholic.
  • The young couple who discovered their child had a debilitating and ultimately fatal disease who suddenly turned to fundamentalist Catholicism hoping through it they could pray away their child’s disease.

For those not raised Catholic – fundamentalist Catholicism is known in a strict interpretation of Catholic dogma (letter of the law), often leaning toward a pre-Vatican II expression of Catholicism. Some of this leaning go so far as to reject the Vatican II council completely and seek out congregations that perform the Latin mass. Some take it further and reject Catholic social teachings along with anything that suggests people of other faiths might be “saved.”

I get it.  I understand how fear can provoke us to seek out something that might absolve us of that fear. The same is true of shame. For some, peace is found in absolutes and in the belief that in abiding with these absolutes, they are right(eous). Some even find freedom from shame in embracing “salvation.”  Proclaiming Jesus Christ as their personal lord and savior gives many people the peace they need to mitigate the anxiety of living in an uncertain world. Jesus resides in this peace.

Jesus, however, is not in the division and hatred that is sometimes (even often) espoused in denominations created in his name – this includes the Catholic faith in which I was raised.

Jesus is not in the hatred. He is not in the division. He is not in the calls to war. Not once did he ask people to be soldiers in or kill in his name. He never spoke about sexual orientation or condemned people of differing beliefs. Jesus isn’t even Christian. He was a Jew. Period.

And yet, the Jesus in hell is all of this. Whispering hatred in his followers’ ears. Urging them to side with genocide. Tempting them to condemn the immigrant. Forbidding them from feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, liberating the prisoner. The Jesus in hell goes so far as to tell his followers that the more money they have the more they are loved by God and that they should hoard that money and do whatever it takes to amass wealth, power, and privilege. This Jesus has told his followers that the man who currently holds office who is a proven rapist, thief, and liar, was chosen and is the Beloved of God, and is here to usher in the Second Coming.

I can’t with this Hell-Jesus. He’s a liar and a horribly twisted and distorted version of the Jesus of Love. He is everything that the Jesus of Love is not. And yet, he is the one that people are increasingly turning to as the world falls apart. So much so, that the Jesus of Love is really difficult to find. I’m just grateful for all the experiences, resources, and tools that have come into my life that have helped me, not only to discover, but to personally know the God that is Love. My prayer, is only, that more turn to this Love (by whatever name you call it) for it is the only way that humanity might one day know peace.  

Letters from Hell #2 – Rest

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 2 Comments

This morning, my thoughts have turned to rest. Specifically, rest, that it seems I am needing a great deal more of. I never needed rest before – or at least I acted like I didn’t need it. I would work from before dawn to after dusk Monday through Sunday. Weekends were taken up with chores – cooking, cleaning, yardwork, being a mom, etc. etc. etc. There was no time for rest – rather, I rarely took the time.

But now, as we’ve been living in hell, it seems like all I want to do is rest.

I can’t help it. I’m tired. Damn tired.

Living in hell is exhausting. Between “hearing (and feeling) the cries of the world,” the increasing division and violence, and the constant bombardment of traumatic events and chaotic actions, I have very little left to give – to anything – other than survival.

It’s no wonder when the weekend comes all I really feel like doing is sitting at home, reading, napping, and watching TV. I have zero bandwidth (or money) for much else. I don’t want to go anywhere or be by anyone. And please don’t ask me to go somewhere where there will be crowds. I get enough of the energy of people during the week, and I really cannot tolerate any more.

I suspect I’m not alone in this – at least among those who are paying attention. As a healer and an empath, I feel it all  – every person’s emotions, feelings, anxieties, frustration, anger, and fear. I can’t help it. My body is like some kind of processor for all the darkness that is erupting in our world. It comes into me and moves through me. It seems I have no choice in the matter. It’s part of what I’m here to do and be. And trust me, it is not out of pride that I share this – because I would not wish this “job” on anyone.

With no choice in the matter, I do what I must to survive: 

First, my home is my sanctuary. I have created it into a place of refuge and safety. It is my hermitage, my monastery, my cloister. With three-foot-thick concrete walls, it is a fortress in which I feel safe. I am here mostly alone or in the company of loved ones or special clients. To the world, my home is invisible. To be found, you must have been given an invitation.

Second, when I’m not at the job that provides the income I need for basic survival, I’m at home. Except for visits to the yoga studio, running basic errands, visiting my favorite coffee shop, I’m home. At home, I am deeply immersed in my practice – meditation, prayer, reflecting, writing, reading, and praying some more. Increasingly, in prayer is how I spend my time. I need it. The world needs it.

Third, I’ve learned to embrace rest. When I’m tired, I nap. When it’s not a “work day,” I rest. In this also, I find I no longer have a choice. I need it after all the energy it takes to live in this hellscape, to be forced to be out in the world, and to be one of the many witnessing and supporting humanity as it decides its own fate – an eternity in hell, the end of the human race, or if they will finally agree to embrace the opportunity they’ve always been given – which is to be Love.

Hell ‘N Back

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 6 Comments

I’m writing today’s missive as part affirmation, part validation and a big heaping of THANK YOU to all the wayshowers, pioneers, first-wavers, shit-disturbers, and revolutionaries who have endured untold suffering and loss and who now live to be witness and guide to those who are coming after us (not as in pursuit, but in chronology).  

Indeed, we have been to hell and back!

My journey into hell began in early 2000 when the universe I had been building for myself began to crumble around me. Mine was a journey that began with great optimism and hope but eventually turned into one devastating loss after another.  Loss, of course, is relative. For me, the losses included the ending of several significant relationships (including a marriage), the death of a career, the loss of perceived community, the experience of poverty, brief homelessness, bankruptcy, and a pile up of chronic illnesses that have negatively impacted abilities that I once took for granted.

In the midst of these losses, many good things happened as well, the greatest of which is a deepening knowledge of who I truly am including the calling to embrace a more deeply monastic lifestyle rooted in sacred practice, solitude, and quiet service to humanity.

Somewhere in my journey into hell, I set aside the conditioned belief that our value is defined by what we do and that success is determined by how hard we work.

Now, I prefer a life of ease – one in which being takes priority over doing, and if doing is called for, it is only that which comes forth out of a deep state of being. As such, I no longer seek after things to do, causes to take up, or a humanity to save.  Instead, I sit in quiet observation of the unfolding of human evolution and wait for those moments when humans seek me out for guidance or support.

I know I am not alone in this because I am surrounded by individuals who have been through their own version of hell and in that journey have been remade. No more are they imprisoned by the conditioning of western culture. No more are they tempted by the pursuit of shiny objects. No more are they willing to exist within the hellscape of late-stage capitalism, but have chosen a new way of being that defies what we were once told was required for our survival.

No longer are we subject to the rules of an outside perceived authority but have discovered our own truth – that which can only be found within.

For generations humanity has been raised on lies. These were the lies created by the ruling classes to imprison us in servitude.

The time of lies is coming to an end, but in order to uncover the truths that have been hidden by these lies, we first had to die to what we were taught to believe and believe in. Every single thing that was imposed from outside of us had to come up for review. Those things we took for granted were wrestled from our grasp. We were made to confront our attachments to money, power, fame, familiarity, control, the status quo…and let them go…kicking and screaming as they were pulled from our cold, dead, hands.  

And we had to do this over and over and over again until there was nothing left of our conditioned selves and all that remained was our Truth.

This is the journey we are now called to witness for others. Having survived (likely exhausted, gasping, and bleeding) our own journey to hell and back, we now have the experience and wisdom to be of support to others.

Lest you are tempted to believe this is a call to action, IT IS NOT. It is not our job to seek out those who might need our support.  Instead, we are called to tend to ourselves. To support ourselves in our continued healing. To live quietly in our truth. To bear witness to humanity’s evolution and to wait for those who may one day seek our support.  

Thank you for all you have endured in your own journey to hell and back. I see you and I acknowledge the sacrifice, the suffering, and all you were made to leave behind. My hope is that in that journey you have come to know yourself more fully and have made yourself free of what previously imprisoned you so that you can enjoy the inner freedom that comes when we successfully find our way out of hell.

With the deepest gratitude and love,

Lauri