Praying for the dead to the Virgin...in Spanish

Most of you know I'm a church hopper and a universalist. Maybe it's a reaction to my very narrow religious upbringing. Or just a reaction to the work of the Spirit. I haven't blogged in a while but perhaps this blog will be a branch out and a way forward for me to write. 

With my friend Wendy, we do a podcast where we visit various denominations and talk about it (churchhopperspodcast.com). But not all my spiritual experiences happen in those settings. Tonight it happened in the home of a coworker. 

A couple of weeks ago, my coworker lost a loved one. She was unable to travel the thousands of miles to be home. But as any good Catholic would, she has been holding vigil at her home for a week and praying the rosary for her loved one who has gone before. She invited me to attend and it was beautiful. Here's what I learned, observed, and felt in those moments:  

1. It was the women who went first to the tomb

The gathering tonight was open to men because I was there. But I was the only man. This isn't a criticism of the other men--they may have been there other nights or there may have been other reasons they didn't attend. But I notice across the spectrum of traditionally patriarchal religious contexts that it is the women who feel and move in and teach the faith...in life and in death. Just like the women who came first to the tomb of Jesus and who first proclaimed his resurrection. How have we valued and heard and lifted up the lives and voices of women in our worship?  

2. I believe in the Virgin

Tonight the Hispanic women gathered asked me two questions several times. First, where did I learn Spanish? (high school and some good Mexican friends). And then "are you Catholic?"  Well, of course I think I'm the most catholic of catholicism...if we are talking about universalism and the universal body of God. But no, I'm not Roman Catholic. So I just explained why I would be there to pray the rosary. Simply put--I believe in the Virgin. I believe in the Mother of God. And the mothers of God all around me...the ones in the room too. I believe in the Divine Feminine and her virginity is important to me only because it represents female autonomy without need for outside influence to bring forth life or the Divine. I believe in Mary, the mother of Jesus. And I do believe she was blessed among women and that the fruit of her womb was blessed. And if any of us who are born of woman will ever see God, then surely the mother of God (and all those who birth the Divine) will reign as Queen of heaven, of all the saints and apostles...and isn't it right to ask her to pray for us?  Because if there really is no death but the promise of eternal life, then surely there is a mystical communion beyond the communion we share here. 

3. Praying for the dead works

Now I'm not making a statement about affecting people's eternal state. How could I possibly know that?  But I know this. I didn't know my friend's loved one. But after praying for the Virgin to intercede for him, and gazing on his picture on the altar as we contemplatively prayed together, I felt a compassion and a connection with a man I had never met and would never meet here. A man who didn't speak my native language. Or hold my theological beliefs. And I felt compassion. I felt a real desire for him to truly rest in peace. And I felt a connection with those who grieved. I can only imagine the kind of sacramental moments those who did know him felt. I can't imagine a better way to grieve with those who grieve than to remember with them, to feel with them, to pray with them. 

4. Pentecost still happens

I knew most of the prayers in Spanish. I struggled to say them as quickly and sometimes reverted to English but that was ok. Like the original day of Pentecost when a group of schismatic radical Jews started speaking in languages that were a sign to those on the outside, so it is today. Those on the inside (and we are all both in the in crowd and outside the walls, depending on what area of life we are taking about) spoke their truth. And miraculously, those on the outside heads that Truth and it sounded EXACTLY like their own native tongue. Truth is not confined to a creed, a language, a nationality, an experience, or location. It is not bound by doctrine or framework. Rather, it is the free flow of the same Spirit between the most intimate of friends and between the most different strangers. As I prayed with catholic women who probably were praying with very different ideas about what prayer is, who God is, how God works, and even what it means to be a follower of God...I felt an enduring connection. I felt one body, one Spirit, one God and Mother and Father of us all. And I could truly pray with heartfelt meaning como era en el principio, ahora y siempre, de los siglos y los santos siglos, AMEN.