Clarion: Journal of Spirituality and Justice

Cole Arthur Riley's "THIS HERE FLESH" - Review by Felicia Murrell

In crafting This Here Flesh, Cole Arthur Riley says she knew she wanted the book to end at liberation. And that she wanted to start at dignity, to ground people in this belief that this is a journey, something that feels most true about the black origin. “The origin story of the world,” Cole writes, “and the dark and stars that hold it is one of dignity. The divine is in us.”¹

Cole believes this journey of inherent worth is one we all deserve to take. And I believe This Here Flesh, Riley’s brilliantly poignant debut book, is a worthy guide.

Paraphrasing the author’s own words: In the trajectory between dignity and liberation, Cole Arthur Riley shares the immediacy and lasting effects of pain filtered through fear and expressed in lament and rage. Then the book cycles back through repair, memory and joy.

Dr. Barbara Holmes calls This Here Flesh “a tapestry of memories and invites people in.”² And like Dr. Holmes, I was “completely swept up.” Enthralled. Enchanted.

The journey through remembering can lead to our liberation. But it will require our participation and our surrender. “…we are worthy of tending to the pain of the past,”³ writes Cole in This Here Flesh.

Paul Young says, “the unexposed is the unhealed.” There is no trajectory to liberation that does not chart a course through Truth. “You will know the truth,” says Jesus, “and the truth will set you free.”⁴

“… I think every act of fidelity to a truth in you is an act of liberation,”⁵ writes Cole.

Denial does not liberate. Liberation unfolds in our moment by moment, daily participation with Love - seeing ourselves through the eyes of Divine Love, believing what Christ believes about us, aligning the ways that we live and move and have our being with Love’s truth.

“…contemplative spirituality is a fidelity to beholding the divine in all things.”⁶ …even in yourself. The journey through re-memberance begins with your own origin story, your inherent dignity. Remembering that you are the very good of Creator’s workmanship.

In every place within your being that you have labeled yourself as ‘not’ or ‘less’ or any measure of comparison rooted in scarcity and inadequacy, may you once again be re-membered to your significance, to the truth of your being. You are good. You are good. You are very good.

“… name the truth of [your] dignity like a mercy new each morning,”⁷ invites Cole Arthur Riley.

“How can anyone who is made to bear likeness to the maker of the cosmos be anything less than glory? This is inherent dignity,”⁸ she writes.

“…we ourselves are made of the dust, mysteriously connected to the goodness of the creation that surrounds us.”⁹

“If God really is three parts in one like they say, it means that God’s wholeness is in a multitude.…the individual, collective, and cosmic journey is the path of unearthing and existing in our liberation. …To answer the question of how one becomes attuned to liberation, I think we must ask ourselves: What sounds are drowning it out?”¹⁰

We can never be whole alienated in our separate selves. Our wholeness is intricately bound in a symbiotic relationship to the circle of life. Who or what is drowning your sound?

Cynthia Bourgeault uses the etymology of the Latin word personare: to resonate with and describes personhood as one through whom the whole resounds.¹¹

How is the whole resounding through you? How are you taking your place in our collective belonging And if you aren’t, what’s holding you back from the Circle? Where do you need to be re-membered so that you can liberate your unique expression of Love?

“I don’t know if liberation depends on our reconciliation with others,” writes Cole Arthur Riley in This Here Flesh, “but I am certain it at least depends on our reconciliation with ourselves.”¹²

Reconciling myself to myself leads to shalom. “…like the ancient ritual that precedes the Eucharist,”¹³ travel around yourself, she invites, and pass the peace, grounding yourself in “embodied declarations of dignity and worth.”¹⁴

Wholeness

• As I participate with Love, I live and move and have my being in ways that are congruent with my inherent dignity.

• I honor and behold the divine in my humanity. Both are worthy of my compassion.

Peace be with me

Soundness of mind

• I no longer imagine vain things about myself.

• I believe what Love believes about me.

Peace be with me

Safety

• I treat myself with non-judgment and tenderness.

• I will not participate in my own self harm. I am safe with myself.

• I am a safe place for myself.

Peace be with me

Exemption from havoc, rage or war

• I am not at war with myself.

• I am no longer driven by or addicted to chaos.

• There is no rage or tempest within.

Peace be with me

“What is shalom but dignity stretched out like a blanket over the cosmos?”¹⁵

Pause and think about it. How did repeating those declarations feel? Did you note any tension or unease? Was it comforting (or awkward) to pass the peace to yourself? Where has the instrument of peace been withheld from you? Might this journey be an invitation from Divine Love to reclaim it? What embodied declarations would you add to those above?

“…dignity,” Cole writes, “was not and is not something that can be taken. Glory can’t be unborn. The devil didn’t make anyone, and I don’t think he has the power to unmake anyone. Our walk to liberation requires us to parse truth from trick. And to ask ourselves, What does evil have to gain in tricking us into believing we are anything less than glorious? I would venture to guess it swallows our belonging first; and then it colonizes our body.…And last, I believe, it steals our love. For who can accept love that they do not believe exists for them?”¹⁶

Start at your origin story. But don’t start at the pain, don’t start with negation. Start with the profound depth of Love. Start with Divine Love singing over you and rejoicing over you with shouts of joy. Remember who you are and where you come from… Remember the Love. Let it resound in every part of who you are until the whole resounds through you.

“To be human in an aching world,” writes Cole Arthur Riley, “is to know our dignity and become people who safeguard the dignity of everything around us....Everything should be called by its name.”¹⁷

In the beholding of our own liberation, may we participate with Love as agents of justice in the restoration of dignity and freedom for all. Say their name.

 

FOOTNOTES

1 Cole Arthur Riley, This Here Flesh Convergent Books (2022), pg. 5

2“The Cosmic We Season 2, Episode 5 podcast, “Exploring the Power of Story with Cole Arthur Riley,” Hosts: Dr. Barbara Holmes & Donny Bryant

3 Cole Arthur Riley, This Here Flesh Convergent Books (2022), pg. 136

4 John 8:32, ESV

5 Cole Arthur Riley, This Here Flesh Convergent Books (2022), pg. 188

6 Ibid. p. x

7 Ibid. p. 5

8 Ibid. p.7

9 Ibid. p.7

10 Ibid. p.7

11 Cynthia Bourgeault, The Wisdom Way of Knowing: Reclaiming An Ancient Tradition to Awaken the Heart, Jossey-Bass (2003).

12 Cole Arthur Riley, This Here Flesh Convergent Books (2022), pg. 144

13 Ibid. p.144

14 Ibid. p.125

15 Ibid. p.8

16 Ibid. p. 9

17 Ibid. p.134

Deconstructing Deconstruction – Felicia Murrell (w/ Bradley Jersak)

Deconstructing Deconstruction – Felicia Murrell (w/Brad Jersak)

Editor’s Note: The following interview is a partial transcript of one for four forthcoming podcast interviews on “deconstruction” at Stephen Backhouse’s Tent Theology Podcast. Bradley Jersak will be serving as co-host in interviews with Brian Zahnd, David Hayward, Felicia Murrell, and Judith Moses (recorded in that order).  

 

Bradley

Definition: First, the word “deconstruction,” popularly used today, has become a catchphrase for a range of experiences from voluntary to involuntary, from liberating to traumatic, from personal to social, that involve a dismantling or restructuring of one’s belief systems (religious or ideological). Understood this way, one may experience a process of disorientation and reorientation that holds its own perils and possibilities.

In your world and your story, what other words or metaphors might best describe this phenomenon? What might that look like in the communities you work with? Examples of both the pitfalls and breakthroughs are most welcome. 

 

Felicia

My work is largely one-on-one spiritual companioning and it’s the work of accompanying, of listening, of sharing and bearing witness, being human in the presence of one another with all of our eff ups and complexities and beauties and joys.

In carrot on a stick religion that uses your imperfections to keep you chasing healing, chasing wholeness, chasing blessings, too often we hand our power over to something outside ourselves. We are always looking for external validation, external permission. Led by the opinions of others — what others think, what others say is true and right…how others say we should live, dress, talk…who we should love or sleep with…what we should read, what movie we can watch…what we are to believe— it feels natural to “let someone else control us,” to unconsciously hand over the reins and allow someone else guide us externally. Honestly, it’s not something we often question because most of our lives, whether our parents, our religious leaders, our coaches, or our bosses, someone outside of ourselves has told us what to do and how to be. So, it feels natural …until it doesn’t. Sometimes this rupture, this process of deconstructing, happens naturally and sometimes unnaturally, sometimes by way of invitation, sometimes by way of force.

But I’m struck by the portion of Psalm 32:8, “…I’ll guide you with my eye.” And for me, it seems like an invitation to be led from the inside out instead of the outside in. So the process of deconstruction becomes something like allowing the pillars of certainty and arrogance to collapse so we can join Love in a dance of unknowing that requires humility and trust. This in itself is its own homecoming, moving from an external guide to internal guide, the eye of Love.

"Out the Embers" - OTC conversation (Jersak, Young, Fee, Murrell, MacMurray)

Learning to Love as God Loves - Overcoming Fear & Racism - Felicia Murrell

Editor's Note: The following is a manuscript of Felicia Murrell's talk from the Open Table Event, in conversation with Wm. Paul Young.

FELICIA MURRELL

I want to begin by saying this is not an easy ask.

For me, AND is the bridge to our re-turn, our homecoming, turning once again to ourselves, to Divine Love and to one another. For me, I’m holding both individual responsibility to participate with the Divine in our integration AND collective activism in a world that is a conflux of bodies in different states/stages of being who are responsible for the systems, bureaucracy and structures that inhibit the livelihood and flourishing of all bodies.

Racism IS most definitely systemic. AND the fear, insecurities and incorrect interpretation of “subdue the earth” which has led to a patriarchal obsession with dominance (of people, places, creation, and things) is very much a heart issue that has to be transformed through an experiential knowledge of Love.

Dualism does not resolve tension; it only furthers the divide.

Yes, there are laws that can be changed. But even with more equitable policies of the 90s, poverty and mass incarceration, and wage and wealth gaps abound.

How helpful are laws if people’s hearts are not transformed? It only means that when power changes, laws change. One only has to look to our Supreme Court to see this at play.

I don’t want to get into a tug of war of facts or statistics so I’m resisting the urge to lean on a lot of data and history. Often we wield information to attempt to convince or sway someone. “There has always been...” is too often used to dismiss what is. And I don’t want to get into a game of comparing suffering or domination stories.

Information does not create transformation.

We have to trust Spirit for the part we as a society can’t do, which is heart transformation.

If hell is a state of mind created by the illusion of Love’s absence, then perhaps heaven is the awareness of the Divine within and our intentional participation with Love.

How does participating with Love aid in alleviating fear - society’s and my own?

Much time has passed since George Floyd was murdered. Since books by Black people rocketed to the top of the New York Times Best Seller list. Since corporations made anti-racist statements declaring Black Lives Matter and people turned their social media profiles black in solidarity with the suffering.

What has changed? In you, in me, in the world... What has changed?

Did we rush too quickly to fix, to absolve ourselves of discomfort? To avoid the pain caused by a long history of messes made, realities ignored. Did we learn how to be sad together, to grieve with or just be? To allow the weight of the moment to be its own masterclass. Or have we rushed in brandishing our savior capes to plant a chair over the poop so our houses have an appearance of ordered cleanliness regardless of the smell?

Have we really slowed down enough to hear in the time that has passed since George Floyd was murdered? In that span of time, have we made space for people to vent and unburden their insides without crowding out discomfort, theirs and ours?

Can we name the most marginalized persons or people group in our local area, community, state, region and the nation? What are their concerns? What are their fears? What does their heart cry sound like? What legislative and civic changes need to be addressed to ensure they are empowered to live?

Pus draining from old wounds is a necessary thing to stave off infection. But not everyone can tolerate open sores.

Phobias and -isms have no place in the labor of Love. To that end, when we talk about restoration, transformation, I want to know who is actively and intentionally participating with the Divine in healing and liberation. Who are those unfazed by gore and know how to love with strong stomachs?

Who has learned to handle the gruesome, to sit in the discomfort of their own pain, to allow space for others to live in theirs?

As a child of the South, I lived in the fear that dripped from my family’s muscle memory. A fear that ordered my coming and going, my way to be in the world. Demanding that I be small, invisible. That I shrink myself to the tiniest possible existence so I wouldn’t be next. The next one to die. The next one to be raped or maimed.

Even when the white hooded robes made its way to the back of people’s closets and lynching and cross burning were no longer a thing, in the South we knew there were still ways to be lynched, still ways to be railroaded. Still police willing to carry out long-held beliefs.

Today, as an adult, access to safety is still a constant I carry with me. I’m Googling “is this town safe for black people.” I have to consider inflamed racial and political climates when deciding where to live, where to travel, where to shop. There are certain towns that are still unsafe for Black people at night even though sundown towns are supposedly no longer a thing.

When Jesus watched men self-destruct - Felicia Murrell

I’m thinking today about people, people we love that make harmful, self-destructive choices. Choices that aren’t life-giving or flourishing. And I’m thinking today about Jesus. Thinking about how it must have been for Jesus to watch men self-destruct. To watch them choose to berate him, women, those they’ve reduced through hierarchical power structures (after all, caste and class aren’t new).

I’m thinking about what must have been going on in his inner world as he watched Pilate’s wrestle, watched soldiers laugh, prepare to flog him, say dumb ish, cast lot for his clothing. How people spat and scorned, and how he watched.

But mostly I’m thinking about his silence. How he yielded. How even in their acts of hellish torment, he did not overstep his boundaries - no matter how painful it was to watch their actions. He didn’t rush in to fix or… dare I say, save. Nope, he did not attempt to save people from themselves (at least not in the way we do).

Jesus mostly sat with, talked, laughed, drank with, ate with. Something about his presence, I imagine, was an invitation to others. An invitation to life, to love, to freedom. And when people turned toward him in the way of recognition and participation, then Jesus would say: “Go and sin no more.”

Go. Walk the path of Love in such a way that the truth of who you are is in harmony with the way you live and move and have your being.

But for those for whom there was no recognition, no desire to participate with wholeness, for those… Jesus was mostly silent. Not absent, just silent.

Make no mistake about it, to watch someone you love self-destruct is one of the most horrifying experiences of our human existence. And fear of their ultimate demise can send you into control, co-dependency, manipulation, threats, force…whatever it takes to set them on the course we think will save them. And thus, my heart returns to Jesus.

All things considered, what is the most loving thing I can do right now? How do I recognize and participate with the way of Love? How do I order my words, my invitation…yes, even my silence so that I hold sacred another’s freedom and their right to choose?

Healing from and through Deconstruction - Felicia Murrell with Susan Carson

Thursday, October 27, 6:00 pm EST 
Susan Carson (Roots & Branches network)
will host a livestream fundraising event:

"Healing From and Through Our Deconstruction"
An evening with Dr. Bradley Jersak, Felicia Murrell and Wm. Paul Young"

CLICK HERE for Registration details

 

In preparation for this event, Susan Carson raised the following questions on deconstruction and the healing journey. Author, editor, and foodie extraordinaire, Felicia Murrell, responded beautifully, a great teaser for what we're in for:  

SUSAN: When we talk about deconstruction, what do we mean?

Felicia: I would say deconstruction means releasing our grip, attachment from ideas, beliefs and theories we once thought to be true; unknowing the things we’ve erected and built, dismantling all of our conceptual constructs. My teacher, Mirabai Starr would say, it’s “when the religious scaffolding crumbles and we are plunged into radical unknowing.”

My mind conjures images of Samson bracing the two middle pillars on which the house rested and bending with all his might, upending the house and all therein.[1] But for me, as it relates to deconstruction, the two middle pillars would be my pillars of arrogance and certainty upon which all my tenets of faith and belief and interpretations rested. For sure the image loses some of its relatability at the end because of the destruction, but I imagine for some, deconstruction may actually feel like a sort of catastrophic death.

SUSAN: In what ways have you experienced or observed deconstruction as destructive? 

Felicia: I think when we are as fundamental and certain about deconstruction as we are about religion, that can be destructive. Rene Girard spoke often about scapegoating, and when we find ourselves trapped in the need to blame our pain or our lived experience on someone, deconstruction can turn vengeful and destructive. But if we don’t understand this process as a path to infinite Love, we will lose ourselves in the terror and chaos of our unraveling which can be very harmful.

When the Sh*t Stink Lingers - Felicia Murrell

At some point in my life, I came to the realization that I don’t like being around people who once made me feel like sh*t. Even if I was the one creating the narrative about what I thought they thought about me. It doesn’t make being around these people any easier. Sh*t stink lingers on the fingers long after you’ve washed your hands. And sometimes it’s hard to separate actual people from the story you’ve told yourself about those people. But this is the arduous, brutiful (beautiful + brutal) work of healing. The separating, the unraveling. Unbinding yourself from narratives that perpetuate bitterness. 

 

As we surrender to Love’s perfect work, the fury of Love is aimed at everything that is not of Love’s kind. Stripping away all the muck that dims our unique expression as image-bearers …including the narratives we tell ourselves to protect ourselves from other people’s character defects. The things in my life, in your life that happened, happened. Nothing diminishes the veracity of your experience… 

 

The change Love invites us into is how we live and move and have our being in spite of, or rather, because of those things. How do I exist in my body in a way that isn’t fragmented or stunted? For me, when sh*t stink lingers on my fingers, my defended self goes into warrior mode - distancing, walling off, hiding out, doing whatever feels right to protect herself from pain, from hurt and harm. Whenever I catch a whiff of that foul smell, I know it’s an invitation to pause. To touch my heart. To name fear. Feel my feet supported by the earth. To express gratitude for the self who survived hell and has lived to tell it. This does not always silence the stories, but like the eye of a storm, in the center all is calm. And from this grounded state, I tell my mind: I will not live trapped in a story of my own making, and I offer myself compassion.

 

As Tara Brach says, “Compassion honors our experience; it allows us to be intimate with the life of this moment as it is. Compassion makes our acceptance wholehearted and complete.”

 

-Felicia Murrell, 2021

"AND" - Our Common Humanity, Racial Diversity & Overcoming Racism - Felicia Murrell with Bradley Jersak

IRPJ.org hosts Felicia Murrell (with Bradley Jersak)

Felicia Murrell (she/her) is the Author of Truth Encounters
She is also a Copy Editor/Proofreader, The Bee Company www.yzcounsel.com

Felicia and Brad discuss:
* our common humanity & the beauty of racial diversity
* fusion vs. homogeneity (whether by assimilation or segregation)
* race, racism (vs. prejudice), and systemic racism
* seeing race as a construct without practicing erasure
* what is 'Black'? color, culture, shared history
* critical race theory: its history, how it's weaponized & used as a distraction
* learning to hold fear and anger rather than repressing, fixing, or being ruled by it.
* overcoming racism with love rather than inverting power
* self-giving love and power with
* the legacy of Howard Thurman (Jesus and the Disinherited)

RESOURCES

Howard Thurman, Jesus & The Disinherited (Beacon Press)

Dr. Barbara Holmes, Crisis Contemplation: Healing the Wounded Village (CAC Publishing) https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1623050553/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tpbk_p1_i0

Dr. Barbara Holmes, Race & The Cosmos (CAC Publishing)

Rhonda Magee, The Inner Work of Racial Justice: Healing Ourselves and Transforming our Communities through Mindfulness

Why do we ask humans to deny race? Felicia Murrell

When God created colors, He never asked of pink to deny the fact that it is pink or red to stop being red. The uniqueness of each individual color blends together to give us the beautiful rainbow we enjoy.

The same request was never made of the stars. No demand was placed on them to surrender their individuality or stature and when placed together, we get to view brilliant constellations.

 

So why then, do we ask of humans to deny their race? If God only wanted people to look one plain way, He would have never dispersed Noah's three sons into different regions of the world where they would establish distinct cultures and practices and the environment and surrounding conditions would effect the color of their skin and the shape of their noses. If He wanted us to all sound the same, He would not have stopped the building of the Tower of Babel. 

 

I have Hispanic friends, Indian friends, Chinese friends, Caucasian friends, African friends, Black friends, Polynesian friends, etc. I don't want to see through people. I want to really see them for who they are. Race is as much a part of who we are -- our history, our culture, our experience - as our soul and spirit. 

 

In my opinion, to see all of who a person is and celebrate the totality of that person is to see through God's eyes. People say God can't or doesn't look on flesh and yet Jesus is fully man. So does God veil His eyes when He looks at His Son who is seated at His right hand? 

 

God sees all of you and He celebrates your uniqueness and individuality. Just as the individual colors blend together to make a rainbow and the stars join together to make constellations, all of who I am connects with all of who you are and together we make up the human race. 

 

It isn't denial of my skin tone that brings about this effect. It's the celebration of our diversity that does. 

 

"How good and pleasant it is when brethren dwell together in unity! For there the Lord commanded the blessing - life forever." Ps. 133:1,3

Magic Genie or Heavenly Father? by the Felicia Murrell

I'm not sure if people realize that coercing others to Jesus by praying prayers that essentially sics the devil on people to lead them back to God only creates bitter Christians who are motivated into a religion by fear of punishment. 

 

God never wanted to be Jesus-the-Magic-Genie who would erase trouble from our existence (ref. John 16:33). And He doesn't need to use sickness, accidents, chaos or any other form of destruction to bring people to Him.  If you stop and think about it, what's appealing about a God like that anyway? 

 

You have a very REAL heavenly Father who loves you. His love is enough to woo you. It is His loving-kindness, His goodness that draws men to think differently about Him. 

 

When we rightly represent who God is, we lead people to a God of love who is passionate about people; a God who wants to embrace each person. A God who wants to enter into a relationship with you. 

 

He's no three-wish Genie but He's the One I want with me in the highs and the lows; the thrills and the mundane because I can trust His love for me. How do I know this? 

 

I certainly didn't learn it from orphan-spirited Christianity. I know because He pursued me with His kind intentions and comforted me with His love. Because He first loved me, it compels me into relationship with Him.

 

Don't be fooled. Love doesn't look like punishment. There is no sickness, accidents, chaos or destruction in love. These things are not an "act of God." 

 

The tree of the knowledge of good and evil has convinced us that people have to be punished in order to do better. It's time to uproot this tree and all of its fallacies from our thinking.

No Shadow of Turning: Refections after reading Paul Young's 'Eve' - Felicia Murrell

 

Felicia Murrell

After reading Eve, by Paul Young, I find myself trying to put into words a reality Father impressed upon my heart.

If there is no darkness or shifting of shadow and Father and I are face to face, I see no darkness at all. The only way I see a shadow is if I, in my own choosing, turn my back on the light that is still being emitted. The only way I see darkness is if something blocks the light.

As I pondered the thought, I realized this revelation is as true about my relationship with people as it is about my relationship with Father.

When people wrong me, wound me, frustrate me, irritate me (insert any negative emotion), in my heart, I turn away and in the turning, I'm no longer seeing that person through the light of the strength and beauty of our relationship OR through the light of Father's love and what He believes to be true about them.

It is there in that place the accuser of the brethren comes alongside with his whispers to cause doubt, mistrust and disconnection to grow in our heart toward the other person. And as we continue to turn our faces away from light, the lies of the evil one are strengthened and empowered with our agreement and judgment toward the other person.

However, when we choose to remain face to face despite discomfort, our eyes remain clear and our whole body is filled with light. In that place, we can see the truth of brokenness - ours and theirs - without expectation or demand of repayment for something they have no capacity to give us. Drawing strength from grace and vulnerability to see beyond the brokenness and character defects to the person’s True Self, created in God’s image and love as He loves.

I understand now why God has no illusions. There are no shadows to create them.

Felicia Murrell