I am indebted to Father Patrick Gerard "Gerry" O'Rourke who inspired
this conversation, and to Anita Lynn Erhard and to Charles "Raz"
Ingrasci and to Ann Overton and to Catholic San Francisco who
contributed material.
Werner
has often remarked that if religion had gotten its job done,
the work of
transformation
would be redundant. In this regard,
the work of
transformation
has powerful advantages over religion as an instrument of inquiry. One
is that in the bigger scheme of things, it's still relatively new. Not
enough time has elapsed for its constructs and ideas to become gelled
into hardened, blindly-accepted-without-scrutiny beliefs
(beliefs being but close approximations to the truths they represent).
Another is it's woke enough to detect and examine any such
fixed beliefs if and when they do appear (as, given the nature of
beliefs, they inevitably will) and to bring back the germaine ideas and
experiences which tease out authentic transformation, fast.
The world's
great religions, on the other hand, are centuries-old conversations
whose cherished yet sometimes static beliefs are taken on
face
value without scrutiny (which is a matter of adoring, pious respect,
not willful negligence or oversight).
The obvious should be stated: God isn't a central
pillar
of
the work of
transformation,
as she is of religion. Please be quite clear there's nothing wrong with
that. God isn't a central
pillar
of physics either. Yet both physics and
the work of
transformation,
are incisive, razor-sharp inquiries into the nature of reality, and
pragmatic ways to be with, live with, and work with
reality. In this way, both physics and
the work of
transformation
provide platforms to stand on to
honor
"God as Creator", without that being their prime directive, intention,
or mission. In this way, both make massive contributions to our
religious experience, simply out of what they give
access
to.
I see two possible ways to approach God for myself (there are
waaay more than two obviously, but for the purposes of
this conversation, let's consider two). The first is I can ask God to
save me and my life (and by "save" me, I mean to make me
whole and complete)
as her gift to me ... or ... I can bring myself,
alreadywhole and complete,
to God as my gift to her (by which I mean by having what
Werner
calls "a space of
possibility,
like an
openness,
like a place for
God
to
show up
in my life"). The former is the way of religion; the latter is
the way of
transformation.
It's quite rare to encounter a man of the cloth, which is what the
priest I called "Father" (of transformation) was, who appreciated and
embraced both, and in so doing,
honored
and respected both, thereby enhancing them and making them real for
people.
As a widely known and much respected, admired (indeed beloved) Catholic
priest in the traditional sense, it may have been eyebrow-raising for
some who saw him in close proximity to
Werner Erhard
and, more than that, as a frequent and committed participant in his
programs, in which he made a contribution both by his speaking and his
listening, as well as by what he, replete in his priestly collar,
represented just by being there. But it wasn't merely a token
contribution he made: it was a huge, enormous,
vast
contribution he made. He personified what bringing being transformed to
the
face
of God, looked like. And he totally got the possibility
Werner's work
makes available for people, all people, lay people, people of the
cloth ie especially people of the cloth, indeed people of
all faiths, and atheists and agnostics alike.
And because that's who he was, he almost single-handedly
legitimizedthe work of
transformation
for those who struggled with reconciling their own religious beliefs
with the unavoidably powerful experience which the possibility of being
transformed, makes available. Although
the work of
transformation
doesn't require it, his life epitomized and provided a bridge between
the
rich
body of distinctions which is
the work of
transformation,
and the powerful expression of worship of and adoration of God, which
is the essence of religion, and the church's raison d'etre. His
cross-over was astounding, the connection astonishingly on-target, and
(for some) the mixture (given the plethora of religious belief-systems
which devolve into creating self-preserving limitations in spite of
their own best intentions), disconcerting. It fully legitimized
the work of
transformation
in an arena already beset by dogma, opening the door to the possibility
of it transforming religion and the entire church as well.
I had the good fortune of meeting him on a number of occasions, all of
which occurred when both of us were participating in
Werner's
programs. During a break in the proceedings, he would be sitting in a
chair, sometimes standing but mostly sitting, with a long line of
people waiting patiently to meet him and greet him and speak with him.
I remember the first time I went up to greet him, something I had long
wanted to do. When each person was about to leave and make way for the
next, he shook their hand and, in some cases, reached out and hugged
them, seated. When I reached the front of the line, he looked up and
saw me, then suddenly stood up, hugged me (this without us ever having
met before or being formally introduced), then took both my hands in
his, his nose inches from mine, his eyes twinkling with divine fire,
and stayed standing there with me like that, holding my hands,
speaking, listening. I remember
thinking
the skin of his hands was much softer than mine.
At first I was mildly embarrassed to be with him like that, just
standing there, two adult men holding hands ... but then, given it was
happening anyway, I
surrendered
to the experience of being there with him like that in full view of
hundreds of people. When our conversation completed and it was my time
to leave, we embraced, and then he sat down again, continuing with the
next person in line, seated. To tell you the truth, I don't remember
all the words we exchanged in that extraordinary encounter. Whatever
transpired between us, didn't transpire in the domain of memory - that
much is certain. What I do recall is the softness of the skin of his
hands, and my experience of what it was like standing there with him,
two adult men holding hands, noses inches apart, in full view of
hundreds of people. It's an experience of him I cherish, one which says
it all about him for me. If you get it, it'll speak to you too. He
uncannily represented the very best of our humanity and our divinity.