Welcome

Welcome to the website of the Society for Humanistic Potential.

The Society for Humanistic Potential is an interfaith ministerial society that originated in the work of the former English Liberal Free Church. A growing organization, its outreach is worldwide and encompasses a modern interfaith credal approach. SHP is chiefly active in educational outreach, and is the parent organization responsible for European-American University.

CDM Prayer Tree

The Cross-Denominational Mission has begun a Prayer Tree initiative.

A PrayerTree is an organised team of people, who regularly and systematically pray for the needy and sick, world events and so on. They pray for good, helpful things too; like forthcoming events, church growth and so on. Numerous churches have prayertrees, and you can’t have too many! Our PrayerTree is multidenominational, which is a little unusual.

The Prayer Co-ordinator (Mike Young RSStS) will co-ordinate the prayer tree and recruits members of the churches to join. Members commitment is to receive a list of subjects that need prayer each week and Mike will distribute that list to the members (email will be the only method of communication). The members will then pray about the subjects listed, at any time they choose.

This way, we have a network of prayer that we as a church & mission may use to bring a blanket of coverage to issues important to our people. Naturally, you don’t need to be a member to pray; but this does mean that those issues important to us as a movement can be prayed about in an organised, respectable fashion. It will also comfort those in need to know that a team of people will be holding their problem before the Lord. Members in the PrayerTree are of course, encouraged to continue their own courses of prayer: This is in addition to what we do now.

Anyone can send a need to the Prayer Co-ordinator for inclusion in the list, anonymously or by name. Any subject can be sent in, but the Prayer Co-ordinator will change offensive or abusive requests into meaningful prayer offerings before putting them on the list.

We have encouraged those who have a chapel or an oratory to register to receive the weekly list as prayers ascending before the altar are particularly effective.

Further information: http://www.crossdenominationalmission.org.uk/prayertree.html

To send in a prayer request or to join the PrayerTree email: prayertreelcac@live.co.uk

Sophia Circle Bulletin May 2009

Dear Friends,

In the past few months another Liberal Catholic community has chosen for it’s autonomy and the newly created Church of Christ the Indwelling Light is now operating in England and in Georgia, USA. As an interim measure, +Markus is providing them with episcopal support. Two of it’s priests have been elected to the Episcopate, Rev Jayne Wood and Rev WIlliam Ireland. The bishops attending the Sophia Circle Summer School have been approached and have agreed to consecrating Rev William Ireland to the episcopate during the summer school. The plan is therefore to consecrate bishops elect Franz Devantier of the Catholic and Apostolic Church of Jesus the Christ and William Ireland of the Church of Christ the Indwelling Light on Saturday the 18th of July as part of the procedings of the Summer School. We wish to congratulate them both and wish them every inspiration and Light.

As mentioned in the previous newsletter, the planning of this third international gathering is in full swing. The Summer School will be held from the 17th – 24th of July 2009 in Rogaska Slatina, Slovenia. We have placed a draft programme on the web site and several bookings have already been made. As we have limited space, we urge you to book as soon as possible – details may be found on the web site. Price for the Summer School is 250 Euro (sharing) and 300 Euro (single occupancy), for the entire period, including vegetarian meals.

It promises to be an eventful Summer School, with no fewer than seven priest’s ordinations planned as well as the consecration to the Episcopacy of two bishops elect. We have amongst others received bookings from Cameroun, South Africa, Slovenia, Netherlands, England and Scotland, so a colourful collection of people from accross the globe will be present.

We have also set up a small fund to assist those who would like to come to the Summer School but cannot afford the trip and the accommodation. Those needing assistance may contact us by e-mail. If you wish to make a contribution to this fund, any amount is welcome.

We hope to see you all there!

The Sophia Circle Family
www.SophiaCircle.org
SophiaCircle@Lcc.cc

Esoteric Christianity E-Magazine

A new article has been published on the ECEM titled ‘Reflections on the Ascension of Our Lord’ by Edward J. Parkinson Ph.D. The article reflects on what the Ascension story could mean to a person living in the twenty-first century.

Dr. Edward J. Parkinson teaches in the Department of English and Journalism at Western Illinois University in the U.S.A. He is currently a subdeacon in the Liberal Catholic Church and has been active in that Church for the last twelve years.
We hope you enjoy the article.

Again the request for submission of material for publication.

Website: www.Lcc.cc/ecem
EMail: EditorECEM@Lcc.cc

White Eagle – "The Quiet Mind"

John Kersey writes:

“The Quiet Mind” by White Eagle, spiritual guide of the late Grace Cooke, is a key work of spiritual wisdom and one whose value has more than stood the test of time.

The text is divided into sections, each dealing with a particular thought or meditation. The cumulative effect of the teaching is an uniquely deep meditation on the nature of being and the mission of man on earth and beyond. There is much connexion with Theosophy but the White Eagle teachings have their own particular flavour and the widest of relevances.

The London White Eagle Lodge have put “The Quiet Mind” online at this page http://www.whiteagle.org/quiet_mind.htm where it is warmly commended to all.

The Old Man and the Dog, by Catherine Moore

‘Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!’ My father yelled at me.

‘Can’t you do anything right?’ Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for another battle.

‘I saw the car, Dad. Please don’t yell at me when I’m driving.’ My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed
being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the
forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and
had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trop hies
that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn’t lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn’t do something he had done as a younger man. Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad’s troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent.

Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain.

Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, ‘I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.’ I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons -too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention.

Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. ‘Can you tell me about him?’ The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.

‘He’s a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.’ He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. ‘You mean you’re going to kill him?’

‘Ma’am,’ he said gently, ‘that’s our policy. We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog.’

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision.

‘I’ll take him,’ I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!’ I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. ‘If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don’t want it’ Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples.

‘You’d better get used to him, Dad. He’s staying!’ Dad ignored me.

‘Did you hear me, Dad?’ I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad’s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne ’s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father’s room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on.

As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind.

The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. ‘Be not forgetful to entertain
strangers.’

‘I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,’ he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article…

Cheyenne’s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter…his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father…and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life is too short for drama and petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly.

Live While You Are Alive.

Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.

Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.

Caller ID

On a Saturday night several weeks ago, this pastor was working late, and decided to call his wife before he left for home. It was about 10:00 PM, but his wife didn’t answer the phone. The pastor let the phone ring many times. He thought it was odd that she didn’t answer, but decided to wrap up a few things and try again in a few minutes. When he tried again she answered right away. He asked her why she hadn’t answered before, and she said that it hadn’t rung at their! house. They brushed it off as a fluke and went on their merry ways.

The following Monday, the pastor received a call at the church office, which was the phone that he’d used that Saturday night. The man that he spoke with wanted to know why he’d called on Saturday night. The pastor couldn’t figure out what the man was talking about. Then the man said,’It rang and rang, but I didn’t answer.’ The pastor remembered the mishap and apologized for disturbing him, explaining that he’d intended to call his wife.

The man said, ‘That’s, OK. Let me tell you my story. You see, I was planning to commit suicide on Saturday night, but before I did, I prayed, ‘God if you’re there, and you don’t want me to do this, give me a sign now.’ At that point my phone started to ring I looked at the caller ID, and it said, ‘Almighty God’. I was afraid to answer!’

The reason why it showed on the man’s caller ID that the call came from ‘Almighty God’ is because the church that the pastor ministers is called Almighty God Tabernacle!!

[Courtesy of the Liberal Catholic Church Theosophia Synod Newsletter]

Different religions

Many religions have been brought to this land. And the way my religion is, they teach me, and they taught me, and told me to respect all religions. And I still do that.”
–Horace Axtell, NEZ PERCE

The Creator put on this Earth many different religions which represent different roads to walk to God. All religions are right and good if the path is the path to God.

Should we be judging which road is better or worse than the other? When we accept each other’s way we can stand in a circle, hold hands and listen to each other as we pray to God. Let us be more accepting of the religions of others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Great Spirit – God, Grandfather, Grandmother, Lord – let me know peace

~ White Bison Elder’s Meditation ~

Growing good corn

GROWING GOOD CORN

James Bender, in his book, HOW TO TALK WELL (New York:
McGraw-Hill Book Co., Inc., 1994) relates the story of a farmer who grew
award-winning corn. Each year he entered his corn in the state fair
where it won a blue ribbon.

One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something
interesting about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the
farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbours.

“How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbours
when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?” the
reporter asked.

“Why sir,” said the farmer, “didn’t you know? The wind picks up pollen
from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my
neighbours grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade
the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my
neighbours grow good corn.”

He is very much aware of the connectedness of life. His corn cannot
improve unless his neighbour’s corn also improves.

So it is with our lives. Those who choose to live in peace must help
their neighbours to live in peace. Those who choose to live well must
help others to live well, for the value of a life is measured by the
lives it touches. And those who choose to be happy must help others to
find happiness, for the welfare of each
is bound up with the welfare of all.

The lesson for each of us is this: if we are to grow good corn, we must
help our neighbours grow good corn.

[Source: Interfaith Messenger]

Conference announcement

October 31st to November 2nd 2008

National Conference : Holiday Inn
Holyoke Mass.

THE MYSTICAL HEART OF CHRISTIANITY:
MOVING BEYOND LITERALISM

Religious thought, especially Christianity, faces a dilemma regarding
the interpretation of sacred scripture. On the one hand there is
fundamentalism: taking the Bible literally, with every statement being
absolute fact. The other approach views Biblical material as merely
stories, teachings and myths that grew out of humanity’s search for
Deity and the meaning of life.

Althought these writings were presented as historical experience and
meant to be taken as truth, the became corrupted with attempts to foster
certain religious agendas.

Both of these perspetives are flawed and fail to recognize the depth of
understanding that can be found in Christianity. Is there an alternative
viewpoint that recognizes the fallibility of these historical texts, yet
still honors the profound truths imbedded within?

Details and Registration information
http://www.theosophical.org/events/conferences/national08/index.html

Sponsored By:

THE THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY IN AMERICA
www.theosophical.org