Luke 24:31 At that moment, open-eyed, wide-eyed, they recognized him. And then he disappeared.
Do I recognize Jesus when he is standing right in front of me? The disciples were his closest friends, and all the way along the road to Emmaus, they talked and listened as he quoted scripture, explaining what had happened to him and why, helping them to understand. Yet they did not recognize him. It was at that moment of breaking of the bread, when Jesus blessed it as he had just a few nights before, for what they had thought was the last time, that they suddenly saw him clearly standing there. At that same moment, as soon as the realization hit, he was gone.
There is a saying in the Holy Land that "Holy places move." What one generation insisted was the place where something happened, the next generation decides was somewhere else. God, and the Spirit, can't be pinned down. As soon as I recognize the movement of Spirit in my life, as soon as I find and recognize something that I am doing that seems to invite the Spirit, it stops working and disappears. And I have to approach the issue in a fresh way. Authentic living is not something that can be done by rote, or custom or habit. I utilize practices, contemplative prayer and others, to invite spirit, but by their very nature, they are unpredictable and quixotic. God is not like a magic trick I can conjure at my will. God appears and disappears at His own behest, and my job is to follow the best way I can.
Perhaps this is why it is so hard to recognize Jesus when he is standing in front of me. The unexpected nature of the Divine shakes me out of my complacence and in a moment of clarity and power, reveals Itself to me in surprising and startling ways. I know my friends who volunteer with the homeless describe to me moments when they look into one of their client's faces and see the face of Christ. There are times when I am consulting with clients, times of wonder, or realization, or reflection when God seems fully present in the raw freshness of the moment. I try to pause at those moments, to let it sink in, to fully experience that Presence, and to thank God for being such an integral part of who I am. I never know when it is going to happen, and it disappears as soon as I become aware, but I love the God who reveals Herself to me in these precious and sacred ways.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for these moments of revelation that You bring to my life. I ask for an open and receiving heart that I may see more of Your Presence in this challenging and difficult world. Amen.
Showing posts with label Presence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Presence. Show all posts
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Simply yourself
Luke 14:11 But if you're content to be simply yourself, you will become more than yourself.
How many of us think we have to do something extraordinary to count as a human being? I know growing up I had all sorts of ideas of what I wanted to accomplish in my life, what I wanted to achieve, because then I'd really be somebody. Who I was didn't seem to be quite enough. As I've gotten older, I think I've become more comfortable with who I am, whoever that is, and feel less and less need to add or change or become anything other than what I am. What I am finding in that process is a sense of contentment and inner peace that has eluded me most of my life.
I think what happens is that if I can be just myself, but be fully present with all that that is, somehow, out of that comes something more than I would expect. If I skip along the surface of experience, not quite engaging, not fully experiencing my life, if I am always looking over the next hill for whatever it is that is going to fulfill me, or make my life meaningful, or important, or whatever it is that I think I need, that unwillingness to be present where I am, that skittering off, is the very thing that keeps me from blossoming as a human being, and from being a presence that others see and value. A skilled actor doing the simplest action on stage can draw the attention of the entire audience, and completely captivate us with their presence. Actors are skilled at developing that unity of attention. But I can do this in my life, too, and when I do, when I am able to bring all my attention to this present moment, and really inhabit it, really embody it, there's a way I transcend the ordinariness of my life, and the fullness of that experience hearkens to something more, something beyond the physical plane, something we call spirit, or God. In that moment, by being fully what I am, I become more than what I am.
Prayer: Dear God, So many things distract me from simply being present, and being aware of Your Presence with me. Help me take the time to be, to be content with who and what I am, and use all of that to share You with others. Amen.
How many of us think we have to do something extraordinary to count as a human being? I know growing up I had all sorts of ideas of what I wanted to accomplish in my life, what I wanted to achieve, because then I'd really be somebody. Who I was didn't seem to be quite enough. As I've gotten older, I think I've become more comfortable with who I am, whoever that is, and feel less and less need to add or change or become anything other than what I am. What I am finding in that process is a sense of contentment and inner peace that has eluded me most of my life.
I think what happens is that if I can be just myself, but be fully present with all that that is, somehow, out of that comes something more than I would expect. If I skip along the surface of experience, not quite engaging, not fully experiencing my life, if I am always looking over the next hill for whatever it is that is going to fulfill me, or make my life meaningful, or important, or whatever it is that I think I need, that unwillingness to be present where I am, that skittering off, is the very thing that keeps me from blossoming as a human being, and from being a presence that others see and value. A skilled actor doing the simplest action on stage can draw the attention of the entire audience, and completely captivate us with their presence. Actors are skilled at developing that unity of attention. But I can do this in my life, too, and when I do, when I am able to bring all my attention to this present moment, and really inhabit it, really embody it, there's a way I transcend the ordinariness of my life, and the fullness of that experience hearkens to something more, something beyond the physical plane, something we call spirit, or God. In that moment, by being fully what I am, I become more than what I am.
Prayer: Dear God, So many things distract me from simply being present, and being aware of Your Presence with me. Help me take the time to be, to be content with who and what I am, and use all of that to share You with others. Amen.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Without expecting
Luke 6:35 Help and give without expecting a return.
This is a lot harder than you might imagine. While I think a lot of us can give without expecting a financial tit for tat, or favors or something like that, we can still harbor expectations about our gifts. For one, we want to know that our gift is being used by someone who "deserves" it; what we call the deserving poor. That gives us a sense that we are making a contribution, not being "taken advantage of". That feeling good about ourselves is a kind of expectation, a kind of return. I also get pulled in by wanting to see some good result from my gift; I want to have an impact. This is probably hooked up with the idea of giving gifts to people who "deserve" it, or who can "benefit" from it. These expectations rule my life, determine how I feel about myself and my world, determine, in fact, just about everything! The amazing thing is that when I can get out from under expectations, when I can stop judging outcomes on the basis of what I was expecting (and a lot of the time I am totally unaware of these expectations) I am free to be present and take the experience for what it is. I can let go, trust in God, have faith in my own intentions.
I have really learned this going to MS to work on Katrina relief. If I get too fixated on the job, on finishing something --- that is really my compulsion! -- and it doesn't happen, then I'm disappointed. My desire to "accomplish something" is not satisfied. Lots of things can come up that get in the way of finishing a job. We pulled away the baseboards in a room and found termites, so we couldn't finish tiling the floor until that was dealt with. Other times i have been on a different crew, working at a different house every day. What I've learned is to arrive with no expectations. my task is to be present, be a witness to the people of the Gulf coast who are still struggling so hard, that they are remembered; we haven't forgotten them. So, once or twice a year, I journey to their neighborhood and pitch in the best I can. Just doing that, whether I get thanked or not (and people are profoundly grateful just that I showed up), whether I finish the job or not, whether I have fun or not (and usually I have a blast working hard with my body and not just my brain), is the greatest satisfaction ever.
Prayer: Dear God, Help me to let go of expectations, so that I may truly experience and enjoy the actual life you have given me. Amen
Monday, March 29, 2010
Become simple and elemental
Matthew 18:4 Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God's kingdom.
Working in MS last week, on Katrina relief, has felt just like an "elemental experience"! I even mentioned this verse to some people who were working there with me, and it connected with their experience, too. Here's why I think this was an elemental week:
1. I actually was in the elements a lot. Though we were working in homes, much of our work brought us outside, and even indoors, we had all the windows opened. We were constantly in and out; when it rained, we got wet.
2. I was working with my hands, slapping mud (mortar) on the floor, cutting tile with a wet saw, laying the tile, smearing on the grout and wiping it off. Very tactile. Even though we did use a lot of machines -- power tools and such -- there's something basic about doing stuff with your hands.
3. I was in a new place, away from my home and usual connections and associations. There's a freshness, a basic experience of being in the world, when we're away from our routines and all those reminders of who we are supposed to be.
4. Our accommodations were very basic: metal bunkbeds with small foam mattresses, sleeping in sleeping bags, the bathrooms were across the compound, we ate in a big room all together. It was kind of like adult camp.
5. Because I was far away from my usual context, I was also kind of disconnected from the past, and too busy to think about the future, in a kind of "free" zone. Tasks kept me very present oriented, and being in the moment is about as elemental as it gets.
6. Basically, I was an apprentice, in a position of learning from others, most of them decades younger than me. I was doing something I don't normally do, that I am definitely not expert in.
7. I worked really hard every day, feeling quite tired by the end of it. That kept me in touch with my body and how it works, what it needs, how to take care of it.
8. The satisfactions I came away with were also elemental: a job well done; helping others. There was nothing fancy, no big accomplishments. Didn't even get to see the complete finish of the job we were on, so the successes were small, moment to moment things.
9. I wasn't responsible for anything, except showing up and working. At home, there are so many things I am involved in, there's always a list in my head; I am always juggling things that need to get done. This was simple and basic: follow the routine, show up, do your best, your time off's your own. In that way it was a real break from business as usual.
It's easy to lose touch with what is simple and elemental in our complicated lives, and last week was a great reminder of what is simple about living. Showing up, doing your best, taking care of yourself and your community. Sharing. Giving. Serving. I guess that's why I keep going back.
Prayer: Dear God, It's so easy to get caught up in the complexities of life and forget the basics. Help me remember what is simple and real, and stay connected to that when life gets complicated. Amen.
Working in MS last week, on Katrina relief, has felt just like an "elemental experience"! I even mentioned this verse to some people who were working there with me, and it connected with their experience, too. Here's why I think this was an elemental week:
1. I actually was in the elements a lot. Though we were working in homes, much of our work brought us outside, and even indoors, we had all the windows opened. We were constantly in and out; when it rained, we got wet.
2. I was working with my hands, slapping mud (mortar) on the floor, cutting tile with a wet saw, laying the tile, smearing on the grout and wiping it off. Very tactile. Even though we did use a lot of machines -- power tools and such -- there's something basic about doing stuff with your hands.
3. I was in a new place, away from my home and usual connections and associations. There's a freshness, a basic experience of being in the world, when we're away from our routines and all those reminders of who we are supposed to be.
4. Our accommodations were very basic: metal bunkbeds with small foam mattresses, sleeping in sleeping bags, the bathrooms were across the compound, we ate in a big room all together. It was kind of like adult camp.
5. Because I was far away from my usual context, I was also kind of disconnected from the past, and too busy to think about the future, in a kind of "free" zone. Tasks kept me very present oriented, and being in the moment is about as elemental as it gets.
6. Basically, I was an apprentice, in a position of learning from others, most of them decades younger than me. I was doing something I don't normally do, that I am definitely not expert in.
7. I worked really hard every day, feeling quite tired by the end of it. That kept me in touch with my body and how it works, what it needs, how to take care of it.
8. The satisfactions I came away with were also elemental: a job well done; helping others. There was nothing fancy, no big accomplishments. Didn't even get to see the complete finish of the job we were on, so the successes were small, moment to moment things.
9. I wasn't responsible for anything, except showing up and working. At home, there are so many things I am involved in, there's always a list in my head; I am always juggling things that need to get done. This was simple and basic: follow the routine, show up, do your best, your time off's your own. In that way it was a real break from business as usual.
It's easy to lose touch with what is simple and elemental in our complicated lives, and last week was a great reminder of what is simple about living. Showing up, doing your best, taking care of yourself and your community. Sharing. Giving. Serving. I guess that's why I keep going back.
Prayer: Dear God, It's so easy to get caught up in the complexities of life and forget the basics. Help me remember what is simple and real, and stay connected to that when life gets complicated. Amen.
Friday, March 19, 2010
You'll begin to sense His Grace
Matthew 6:8 Here's what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won't be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you'll begin to sense his grace.
What a lovely description, not only of how to go about praying, but also what the purpose is: to present ourselves "simply and honestly" before God and connect with Her. Mary Oliver describes it in her poem Praying:
What a lovely description, not only of how to go about praying, but also what the purpose is: to present ourselves "simply and honestly" before God and connect with Her. Mary Oliver describes it in her poem Praying:
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
In my silent prayer of contemplation, I sit with gratitude and open my heart go God's presence. I stay -- or keep returning when I get carried away by thoughts or feelings -- in the present moment, where God dwells and let go of all the stuff that wants to pull me into my head. i have glimpses of what the Buddhists call "Basic Goodness" and what I think of as the Presence of God and I find myself restored, renewed and refreshed. It's simple; it's just between me and God, and it connects me in a way nothing else does.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for all the traditions and practices that have struggled to find You, that I can reap the benefit of their wisdom. Thank you for Your Presence in my life. Amen
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for all the traditions and practices that have struggled to find You, that I can reap the benefit of their wisdom. Thank you for Your Presence in my life. Amen
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Where you are Right Now
1 Corinthians 7:17 And don't be wishing you were someplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God's place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there.
Where you are right now. Paul is talking about marriage here, and also station in life (slave or free), but this could apply to any part of our lives. We are always in a process of change -- life is a journey, not a destination -- but how much misery do I cause myself by tickling my imagination with being someplace else: someplace else in my career, or in a different career, relationship, city or community? This is idle fantasy. If I am really called to a certain change, it will come out of being exactly where I am right now. Only out of that full awareness and commitment does true change happen, that is, a real shift in my experience of my life, not just exchanging one circumstance for another one equally flawed.
When I went to Jerusalem four years ago, I gave myself the gift of believing that whoever I was with was the person I was meant to be with, that where I was was exactly where I was meant to be. It brought me to a presence with my experience that encouraged all of my interest and curiosity. It was some time after I returned that I realized I could give myself that gift all the time. It's what I try to remember when I get bored or annoyed: that there is something in this moment for me to give or receive. Then I use my mindfulness practice to be present. After all, I am here and not anywhere else; and I can only be here and not anywhere else, so I might as well fully be present with it.
Prayer: Dear God, Thank you for this reminder to live purposefully as your disciple wherever I find myself. Let me live in such a way that through my actions, others may see Your Face. Amen
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
You have need of nothing
2 Maccabees 14:35 O Lord of all though you have need of nothing, you were pleased that there should be a temple for your habitation among us.
The Supreme Lord has need of nothing. God is Presence everywhere and doesn't need a roof, a place to sleep, a place to hang out. We build our temples, our churches, our mosques, for ourselves, to set aside sacred space apart from our daily lives so that we can take the time and the space necessary to experience the Presence of God. Even though God is with us always, as close as our breath, that realization, that understanding, is hard to stay connected with in the hustle and bustle. So we set aside space and time to put away all our material cares and needs and allow ourselves to be Present with God.
The danger is that we begin to mistake the place that we have put aside for God, for God Himself. We start to treat the temple, the church, the mosque as the Divine Presence Itself. It is there to remind us, to support us in opening up to Presence. It can never stand in for it. Yet this is a mistake people make over and over again. In Islam, they don't allow any representations of human beings or animals in their mosques for fear of just this error. The iconoclasts of early Christianity destroyed icons because they felt the icons were themselves being worshiped. Icons are meant to be windows opening to the divine; it's not the window that is important, it's what the window allows you, or invites you, to see. The Buddhists say that their teachings are a finger pointing to the moon. We get caught up examining the finger and what it means instead of following its direction and looking at the moon it points to. So with all discussions, explanations and representations -- even this blog! None of it has value in itself, but only insofar as it draws us toward a realization of the Divine Presence that is always available.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for this forum to speak of you to others. Let me never be confused about where Truth lives and mistake the messenger for the Message. Amen
The Supreme Lord has need of nothing. God is Presence everywhere and doesn't need a roof, a place to sleep, a place to hang out. We build our temples, our churches, our mosques, for ourselves, to set aside sacred space apart from our daily lives so that we can take the time and the space necessary to experience the Presence of God. Even though God is with us always, as close as our breath, that realization, that understanding, is hard to stay connected with in the hustle and bustle. So we set aside space and time to put away all our material cares and needs and allow ourselves to be Present with God.
The danger is that we begin to mistake the place that we have put aside for God, for God Himself. We start to treat the temple, the church, the mosque as the Divine Presence Itself. It is there to remind us, to support us in opening up to Presence. It can never stand in for it. Yet this is a mistake people make over and over again. In Islam, they don't allow any representations of human beings or animals in their mosques for fear of just this error. The iconoclasts of early Christianity destroyed icons because they felt the icons were themselves being worshiped. Icons are meant to be windows opening to the divine; it's not the window that is important, it's what the window allows you, or invites you, to see. The Buddhists say that their teachings are a finger pointing to the moon. We get caught up examining the finger and what it means instead of following its direction and looking at the moon it points to. So with all discussions, explanations and representations -- even this blog! None of it has value in itself, but only insofar as it draws us toward a realization of the Divine Presence that is always available.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for this forum to speak of you to others. Let me never be confused about where Truth lives and mistake the messenger for the Message. Amen
Friday, August 28, 2009
Finding God
Wisdom 13:9 for if they had the power to know so much that they could investigate the world, how did they fail to find sooner the Lord of these things?
The author is talking about how people make gods out of the things of creation: animals, the elements, sun, wind -- and marvels that seeing the beauties and wonders of nature, they don't make the leap to worship the Inspirer of creation. He makes the point that people worship beauty because that's what they see, and since God can't be seen, they go no further. This is very much the scientific/materialist worldview: anything that I can't see, hear, feel, touch, either personally or through many of the magnificent instruments that people have made to extend their senses, like microscopes and telescopes, is not real. The problem is when these same standards are applied to the religious sphere; they just don't fit! Science can tell us so much about the world we live in, how it works, what happens when you do different things, various causes and effects, and the more science we know, the more we can marvel at what an amazingly complex and interconnected world we live in. Science cannot tell us how we should live our lives, or what actions we should take, or why there is anything at all. It can tell us about possible effects of various decisions, and perhaps that is a guide as far as it goes, but often in interpersonal relations we must make decisions in spite of their effects: think of politicians who need sometimes to stand against public opinion to do something that may be unpopular in the short run, but will be better for everyone in the long run. So there are many areas of life that science cannot touch.
So if science cannot find God, does that mean God is not "real"? Or that God doesn't "exist"? I suppose it depends on how you define those words. If real means having material form like a blanket, then God is not real. And neither is love, compassion, hatred, beauty, fear, inspiration, the power of art to move us, any number of things that would make life poor indeed if we had to do without them. On the other hand, all of these things do have effects on us. Can we see the effects of God? When I sit and meditate, I open myself to God's Presence, and that has real effects on me. Buddhist monks would not necessarily label this Presence "God"; they might use a term like Buddha nature or something. Or Awareness, the Witness, any one of a number of terms. But seekers of God, in the Christian tradition and others, have used all sorts of these kinds of practices to touch a place that is Holy and Sacred, that takes one to the core of Being, that is non-material, and yet changes bodily functions, and provides a foundation for changing a person in his/her relationship to the world. Placing God at the center of my life in this way keeps me from the folly of thinking that I am in control of the world, or even my life, reminds me of my proper, rather insignificant place in this vast universe, yet holds out for me the vision of living a life in sync with God's plans for me, so that I might find my greatest fulfillment in the use of my gifts in service of the world and its people.
So does that mean God is "real"? Through these experiences, I have come to an inner knowing, an inner reliance on this Presence, this Awareness that transcends all things and inspires me with Divine Power. It allows me to be present with others as they face life's trials, and draw strength from the Source. It renews and refreshes me when I am discouraged. It connects me to a deeper Purpose in the face of all my best laid plans which often disappoint. I think of the Marshwiggle, a character from The Silver Chair, one of the Narnia series by C.S.Lewis. The Marshwiggle and his companions are in Underworld, a world below the surface of the earth, and they are being bewitched by a Queen who derides their descriptions of a world on the surface of the earth by calling on logic and reason. The Marshwiggle declares that he doesn't care if the world on the surface is real or not, he would rather live in that vain hope than be content with such a poor world as the Queen presides over. With that declaration, the spell is broken, and they are able to break out of Underworld and find their way to the top again. I suppose it's not the first time that something that's not "real" in a scientific sense has had real effects: think of patriotism, the ideals of justice, freedom, equality, all of which have had tremendous effects in our world. I do want to say, however, that "God" in this sense, is not just an idea to me. It is a palpable reality that undergirds my every action, guides my life and in whom I find my Being. I may not be able to say what is right for other people; there certainly seem to be a lot of people who get along fine without it. But for me, it is the bedrock, the core, the foundation of my life. What do you think?
Prayer: Dear God, I offer you this meager apologetic for Theism. I ask only that it be a way to touch people with Your Presence, that they may find their way to the Joy you offer. Amen.
The author is talking about how people make gods out of the things of creation: animals, the elements, sun, wind -- and marvels that seeing the beauties and wonders of nature, they don't make the leap to worship the Inspirer of creation. He makes the point that people worship beauty because that's what they see, and since God can't be seen, they go no further. This is very much the scientific/materialist worldview: anything that I can't see, hear, feel, touch, either personally or through many of the magnificent instruments that people have made to extend their senses, like microscopes and telescopes, is not real. The problem is when these same standards are applied to the religious sphere; they just don't fit! Science can tell us so much about the world we live in, how it works, what happens when you do different things, various causes and effects, and the more science we know, the more we can marvel at what an amazingly complex and interconnected world we live in. Science cannot tell us how we should live our lives, or what actions we should take, or why there is anything at all. It can tell us about possible effects of various decisions, and perhaps that is a guide as far as it goes, but often in interpersonal relations we must make decisions in spite of their effects: think of politicians who need sometimes to stand against public opinion to do something that may be unpopular in the short run, but will be better for everyone in the long run. So there are many areas of life that science cannot touch.
So if science cannot find God, does that mean God is not "real"? Or that God doesn't "exist"? I suppose it depends on how you define those words. If real means having material form like a blanket, then God is not real. And neither is love, compassion, hatred, beauty, fear, inspiration, the power of art to move us, any number of things that would make life poor indeed if we had to do without them. On the other hand, all of these things do have effects on us. Can we see the effects of God? When I sit and meditate, I open myself to God's Presence, and that has real effects on me. Buddhist monks would not necessarily label this Presence "God"; they might use a term like Buddha nature or something. Or Awareness, the Witness, any one of a number of terms. But seekers of God, in the Christian tradition and others, have used all sorts of these kinds of practices to touch a place that is Holy and Sacred, that takes one to the core of Being, that is non-material, and yet changes bodily functions, and provides a foundation for changing a person in his/her relationship to the world. Placing God at the center of my life in this way keeps me from the folly of thinking that I am in control of the world, or even my life, reminds me of my proper, rather insignificant place in this vast universe, yet holds out for me the vision of living a life in sync with God's plans for me, so that I might find my greatest fulfillment in the use of my gifts in service of the world and its people.
So does that mean God is "real"? Through these experiences, I have come to an inner knowing, an inner reliance on this Presence, this Awareness that transcends all things and inspires me with Divine Power. It allows me to be present with others as they face life's trials, and draw strength from the Source. It renews and refreshes me when I am discouraged. It connects me to a deeper Purpose in the face of all my best laid plans which often disappoint. I think of the Marshwiggle, a character from The Silver Chair, one of the Narnia series by C.S.Lewis. The Marshwiggle and his companions are in Underworld, a world below the surface of the earth, and they are being bewitched by a Queen who derides their descriptions of a world on the surface of the earth by calling on logic and reason. The Marshwiggle declares that he doesn't care if the world on the surface is real or not, he would rather live in that vain hope than be content with such a poor world as the Queen presides over. With that declaration, the spell is broken, and they are able to break out of Underworld and find their way to the top again. I suppose it's not the first time that something that's not "real" in a scientific sense has had real effects: think of patriotism, the ideals of justice, freedom, equality, all of which have had tremendous effects in our world. I do want to say, however, that "God" in this sense, is not just an idea to me. It is a palpable reality that undergirds my every action, guides my life and in whom I find my Being. I may not be able to say what is right for other people; there certainly seem to be a lot of people who get along fine without it. But for me, it is the bedrock, the core, the foundation of my life. What do you think?
Prayer: Dear God, I offer you this meager apologetic for Theism. I ask only that it be a way to touch people with Your Presence, that they may find their way to the Joy you offer. Amen.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
The Way of Insight
Proverbs 9:6 Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight.
This was read in church last Sunday and it really hit me: all the things I love to do, that call to me, that fill me and sustain me involve insight. As both a therapist and a consumer of therapy, insight is central to the process, discovering who I am in all the various situations I find myself in, and addressing the choices I make. In the arts, I discover insight into the human condition, into the life we live now, into the effects of cultural ideas on how we see ourselves. My spiritual practices, the prayer and contemplation, the writing (which for me is both creative and spiritual) get me to slow down and reflect, create space through silence and stillness that allows the truth to emerge from the chaos of my mind. What is confession, after all, but sharing acts of estrangement, the ways I behave that are counter to my intentions, the clarity of all my shortcomings and misdirections? Insight is seeing clearly the truth of who I am, and my place in the world of creation, and of people. It's a pulling together, an integration of all the different parts of me, the conflicting emotions, the contradictory desires and garbled intentions. It's a unification and focus of my spirit, light poured out on the path in front of me, and a making sense of all of that, a certain kind of understanding. It's a recognition that the things I think aren't necessarily the truth, that my mind lies to me; emotions are fleeting, and even a day which feels satisfying, filled and productive can be followed by one that makes me feel that my life is falling apart, I can't do anything right and I'm a totally lost soul. Even this attempt to tap into the order, to make my way back to that path, to come up out of the inchoate wilderness I seem to be caught up in, has tested me -- I had written the whole thing out, lost my internet connection, and came back on line to find all of it gone! So I am starting over. This is exactly what my life has felt like lately: all my efforts coming to naught. So I am attempting to retrieve the flashes of, yes, insight into what is going on with me right now by painstakingly reminding myself of the process I just went through and what I learned.
A little further on from this verse, we come upon a more famous one, "The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight." (9:10) This suggested to me that insight also had something to do with perspective, with seeing myself rightly within the whole expanse of what is. Not all religions talk about God, but they all address our place in the created universe and in our relationships with ourselves, with other human beings and whatever it is that gives us life. Seeing that perspective rightly requires that we come to terms with our human limitations, as well as the limitations of those around us. Sometimes we don't know what to do, we don't know where to turn. Confusion results, which can quickly spiral into fear and the conviction that something is wrong, and pretty soon I can't see anything good in my life or my horizon, all is lost. When I come to my spiritual director in this state of mind, he is fond of saying that I am one of those who really needs contemplation to sustain me. When I was in college, there was a particular creative process that I realized I couldn't live without; it filled me and sustained me and gave me life. Though the creative expression has shifted, I am continually reminded that it's still true that I need some sort of creative expression to help me make sense of it all; these days, I most often express that in writing of various kinds, like this. The quiet and stillness of contemplative prayer (meditation) is also surprisingly sustaining, and seems to clear away all the clutter in my mind that gets in the way of clarity of thinking. And let us not ignore the rest that comes this way. I know one of the things that I am struggling with (always do, it seems) is overscheduling, and not always getting my full Sabbath rest. To really give myself over to rest for one day a week, to recognize that life will go on without me, even those who look to me for support and guidance can do fine on their own for one day, relieves me of such a burden that I have in the past wakened the next morning raring to go. Slowly, but insidiously, however, activity and meetings and social life intrude; even reading can become an attempt to accomplish something! Then I have to remind myself what Sabbath is for, what it is all about, so that I can use it as a process of restoration.
The thing is, this process here, and others like it in my life, are always available, yet I don't always utilize them. I get stuck in the feelings, or the convictions, that sense of hopelessness and uselessness, and to counteract that get caught up in notions of achievement, accomplishment, as if that will provide what I am lacking. I am a tired child who keeps yelling, "I'm not tired!!!" and wanting to do that one more thing which will make me complete, not realizing that the one thing is no-thing but a cessation from doing, true rest. When I access the process, when I engage in my practices of spirituality, creativity and psychotherapeutic understanding, it all comes together and the light goes on. Spirituality connects me to that larger Self I call God, and gives me perspective on my true place of humility and flawedness; creativity integrates all the pieces into one flow of focus and clarity, shining the light on whatever that next step is; psychotherapeutic understanding helps me look at my choices and their effects, so that I can make the choices that really support me in my life. Yes, it takes time, and it doesn't always look like much, but the fruit is that I come back to the human being I am, find myself able to meet the challenges ahead of me, and experience myself more and more as the fullness of all that God intends for my life.
I think I need a vacation.
Prayer: Dear God, I know that you are always there, waiting, and that the practices I treasure lead me unfailingly to some sense of your Presence. Despite that knowing, I persist in doing things that don't work, trying to fill in the holes in my spirit with bread that does not satisfy. Forgive me my stubbornness, help me correct these faults of inattention and misattention, and remind me that You are the core of all I do and who I am. Amen.
This was read in church last Sunday and it really hit me: all the things I love to do, that call to me, that fill me and sustain me involve insight. As both a therapist and a consumer of therapy, insight is central to the process, discovering who I am in all the various situations I find myself in, and addressing the choices I make. In the arts, I discover insight into the human condition, into the life we live now, into the effects of cultural ideas on how we see ourselves. My spiritual practices, the prayer and contemplation, the writing (which for me is both creative and spiritual) get me to slow down and reflect, create space through silence and stillness that allows the truth to emerge from the chaos of my mind. What is confession, after all, but sharing acts of estrangement, the ways I behave that are counter to my intentions, the clarity of all my shortcomings and misdirections? Insight is seeing clearly the truth of who I am, and my place in the world of creation, and of people. It's a pulling together, an integration of all the different parts of me, the conflicting emotions, the contradictory desires and garbled intentions. It's a unification and focus of my spirit, light poured out on the path in front of me, and a making sense of all of that, a certain kind of understanding. It's a recognition that the things I think aren't necessarily the truth, that my mind lies to me; emotions are fleeting, and even a day which feels satisfying, filled and productive can be followed by one that makes me feel that my life is falling apart, I can't do anything right and I'm a totally lost soul. Even this attempt to tap into the order, to make my way back to that path, to come up out of the inchoate wilderness I seem to be caught up in, has tested me -- I had written the whole thing out, lost my internet connection, and came back on line to find all of it gone! So I am starting over. This is exactly what my life has felt like lately: all my efforts coming to naught. So I am attempting to retrieve the flashes of, yes, insight into what is going on with me right now by painstakingly reminding myself of the process I just went through and what I learned.
A little further on from this verse, we come upon a more famous one, "The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight." (9:10) This suggested to me that insight also had something to do with perspective, with seeing myself rightly within the whole expanse of what is. Not all religions talk about God, but they all address our place in the created universe and in our relationships with ourselves, with other human beings and whatever it is that gives us life. Seeing that perspective rightly requires that we come to terms with our human limitations, as well as the limitations of those around us. Sometimes we don't know what to do, we don't know where to turn. Confusion results, which can quickly spiral into fear and the conviction that something is wrong, and pretty soon I can't see anything good in my life or my horizon, all is lost. When I come to my spiritual director in this state of mind, he is fond of saying that I am one of those who really needs contemplation to sustain me. When I was in college, there was a particular creative process that I realized I couldn't live without; it filled me and sustained me and gave me life. Though the creative expression has shifted, I am continually reminded that it's still true that I need some sort of creative expression to help me make sense of it all; these days, I most often express that in writing of various kinds, like this. The quiet and stillness of contemplative prayer (meditation) is also surprisingly sustaining, and seems to clear away all the clutter in my mind that gets in the way of clarity of thinking. And let us not ignore the rest that comes this way. I know one of the things that I am struggling with (always do, it seems) is overscheduling, and not always getting my full Sabbath rest. To really give myself over to rest for one day a week, to recognize that life will go on without me, even those who look to me for support and guidance can do fine on their own for one day, relieves me of such a burden that I have in the past wakened the next morning raring to go. Slowly, but insidiously, however, activity and meetings and social life intrude; even reading can become an attempt to accomplish something! Then I have to remind myself what Sabbath is for, what it is all about, so that I can use it as a process of restoration.
The thing is, this process here, and others like it in my life, are always available, yet I don't always utilize them. I get stuck in the feelings, or the convictions, that sense of hopelessness and uselessness, and to counteract that get caught up in notions of achievement, accomplishment, as if that will provide what I am lacking. I am a tired child who keeps yelling, "I'm not tired!!!" and wanting to do that one more thing which will make me complete, not realizing that the one thing is no-thing but a cessation from doing, true rest. When I access the process, when I engage in my practices of spirituality, creativity and psychotherapeutic understanding, it all comes together and the light goes on. Spirituality connects me to that larger Self I call God, and gives me perspective on my true place of humility and flawedness; creativity integrates all the pieces into one flow of focus and clarity, shining the light on whatever that next step is; psychotherapeutic understanding helps me look at my choices and their effects, so that I can make the choices that really support me in my life. Yes, it takes time, and it doesn't always look like much, but the fruit is that I come back to the human being I am, find myself able to meet the challenges ahead of me, and experience myself more and more as the fullness of all that God intends for my life.
I think I need a vacation.
Prayer: Dear God, I know that you are always there, waiting, and that the practices I treasure lead me unfailingly to some sense of your Presence. Despite that knowing, I persist in doing things that don't work, trying to fill in the holes in my spirit with bread that does not satisfy. Forgive me my stubbornness, help me correct these faults of inattention and misattention, and remind me that You are the core of all I do and who I am. Amen.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Have it firsthand
Job 42:5 I admit I once lived by rumors of you, now I have it firsthand -- from my own eyes and ears.
What answers all of Job's complaints, dissipates his anger and finally shuts him up is the direct experience of the Presence of God. All the time that he had lived before his trials as a good man, a righteous man, he was following the rules, but he never experienced God's presence,so it was all at some remove, all as if by rote. Now he sees and hears, he knows God, doesn't just know about God. And that makes all the difference. In Getting Involoved With God, Old Testament scholar Ellen Davis points out the transformation that Job has gone through by noting the differences in how he is presented as a father. In the last paragraph of the book, which one could easily skim past without taking much notice, she points out two unusual things. One, though none of Job's sons are named, his three daughters are, and the names are wild and fanciful. Two, he leaves his daughters an inheritance along with his sons. These are acts almost of recklessness in a highly patriarchal culture, certainly against the norm and against the grain for the "respectable" culture of his day. Just the fact of having children, having lost all his previous children in one terrible accident, demonstrates Job's new willingness to live with risk. As Professor Davis puts it, "Job, this man of integrity who was once so careful, fearful of God and of the posssible sins of his children, becomes at the last freewheeling, breaking with custom to honor daughters alongside sons, bestowing inheritances and snappy names. The inspiration and model for this wild style of parenting is, of course, God the Creator. Job learned about it when God spoke out of the whirlwind." Only the transformative experience of meeting the Presence, the Ultimate Mystery can account for this change in Job.
What about you? Do you live by rumors of God or by direct knowledge? Do you know about God, or do you know God? Prayer and other contemplative practices are all about being in the Presence of God, of experiencing firsthand something of God's power in our lives. This is what has made a difference in my life, has given me the experience of carrying God's peace within me, sometimes at the most difficult of times in my life. This is what transforms, gives me power to endure, even to thrive, in the face of difficulty, which inspires me to write this blog so that others might get some sense of what God's Presence might do in their lives. It's not about being perfect, or being protected from every danger, like some superstitious amulet that's supposed to ward off evil. No, it's about having the power and the presence and the fortitude to wade through the most difficult times we face without being taken over by them; it's about finding our own definition of who we are through God's grace, rather than as the victim of our circumstances; it's about resilience in the face of calamity, like the resilience of Job, who is able to start again after all he had been through, to have more children in the face of terrible loss, to risk it all for love. It is loving in the face of risk, enduring in the face of disaster, thriving in the midst of destruction that are the fruits of an active, yearned for connection with God, the true God, the Creator, the Whatever It Is that sustains us in the face of all we go through, that brought us into being and draws us to Itself through all of our days, our Alpha and Omega, our beginning and end, our Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, our God, our loving, merciful God.
Prayer: Dear God, I am awed by Your Presence and Majesty. Help me to risk it all as I follow Your path, to offer it all to You that You may lead me to the deepest fulfillment of my soul. Amen.
What answers all of Job's complaints, dissipates his anger and finally shuts him up is the direct experience of the Presence of God. All the time that he had lived before his trials as a good man, a righteous man, he was following the rules, but he never experienced God's presence,so it was all at some remove, all as if by rote. Now he sees and hears, he knows God, doesn't just know about God. And that makes all the difference. In Getting Involoved With God, Old Testament scholar Ellen Davis points out the transformation that Job has gone through by noting the differences in how he is presented as a father. In the last paragraph of the book, which one could easily skim past without taking much notice, she points out two unusual things. One, though none of Job's sons are named, his three daughters are, and the names are wild and fanciful. Two, he leaves his daughters an inheritance along with his sons. These are acts almost of recklessness in a highly patriarchal culture, certainly against the norm and against the grain for the "respectable" culture of his day. Just the fact of having children, having lost all his previous children in one terrible accident, demonstrates Job's new willingness to live with risk. As Professor Davis puts it, "Job, this man of integrity who was once so careful, fearful of God and of the posssible sins of his children, becomes at the last freewheeling, breaking with custom to honor daughters alongside sons, bestowing inheritances and snappy names. The inspiration and model for this wild style of parenting is, of course, God the Creator. Job learned about it when God spoke out of the whirlwind." Only the transformative experience of meeting the Presence, the Ultimate Mystery can account for this change in Job.
What about you? Do you live by rumors of God or by direct knowledge? Do you know about God, or do you know God? Prayer and other contemplative practices are all about being in the Presence of God, of experiencing firsthand something of God's power in our lives. This is what has made a difference in my life, has given me the experience of carrying God's peace within me, sometimes at the most difficult of times in my life. This is what transforms, gives me power to endure, even to thrive, in the face of difficulty, which inspires me to write this blog so that others might get some sense of what God's Presence might do in their lives. It's not about being perfect, or being protected from every danger, like some superstitious amulet that's supposed to ward off evil. No, it's about having the power and the presence and the fortitude to wade through the most difficult times we face without being taken over by them; it's about finding our own definition of who we are through God's grace, rather than as the victim of our circumstances; it's about resilience in the face of calamity, like the resilience of Job, who is able to start again after all he had been through, to have more children in the face of terrible loss, to risk it all for love. It is loving in the face of risk, enduring in the face of disaster, thriving in the midst of destruction that are the fruits of an active, yearned for connection with God, the true God, the Creator, the Whatever It Is that sustains us in the face of all we go through, that brought us into being and draws us to Itself through all of our days, our Alpha and Omega, our beginning and end, our Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, our God, our loving, merciful God.
Prayer: Dear God, I am awed by Your Presence and Majesty. Help me to risk it all as I follow Your path, to offer it all to You that You may lead me to the deepest fulfillment of my soul. Amen.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The less you speak the better
Ecclesiastes 5:2 Don't be too quick to tell God what you think he wants to hear. God's in charge, not you -- the less you speak the better.
This was the reading for my Sabbath rest last Sunday, and it really struck me how often my prayer life consists of a lot of jabbering away at God: praying intercessions for friends who are ill or in distress, petitioning for my own needs, even counting my blessings and praising God can be about a lot of words and chatter in my head. It's not that it's wrong to do those things, it's just that all those words and stories, the incessant stream of verbiage, can become a wall that serves to keep God out. I think that is the place of contemplative practices, like writing sacred icons. I worked on mine yesterday, and I entered into such a space of deep peace. As I prayerfully work with my hands, my mind empties and becomes open to God's indwelling. It helps me drop the wall, let go of it, and allow space, time, silence and emptiness. Then God has room to enter in.
It reminded me of a poem, which is framed on my wall. Mary Oliver expresses it much better than I can:
This was the reading for my Sabbath rest last Sunday, and it really struck me how often my prayer life consists of a lot of jabbering away at God: praying intercessions for friends who are ill or in distress, petitioning for my own needs, even counting my blessings and praising God can be about a lot of words and chatter in my head. It's not that it's wrong to do those things, it's just that all those words and stories, the incessant stream of verbiage, can become a wall that serves to keep God out. I think that is the place of contemplative practices, like writing sacred icons. I worked on mine yesterday, and I entered into such a space of deep peace. As I prayerfully work with my hands, my mind empties and becomes open to God's indwelling. It helps me drop the wall, let go of it, and allow space, time, silence and emptiness. Then God has room to enter in.
It reminded me of a poem, which is framed on my wall. Mary Oliver expresses it much better than I can:
Praying
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks and, a silence in which
another voice may speak.
Prayer: Dear God, Remind me that my purpose today is to listen and be open to You so that I may dwell in Your Presence. Amen.
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks and, a silence in which
another voice may speak.
Prayer: Dear God, Remind me that my purpose today is to listen and be open to You so that I may dwell in Your Presence. Amen.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Coming Home
Ezra 3:12-13 Many of the older priests, Levites and family heads who had seen the first Temple, when they saw the foundations of this Temple laid wept loudly for joy. People couldn't distinguish the shouting from the weeping.
What does it mean to come home? These Israelites had been in exile in Babylon for over 100 years, and here they were back in Jerusalem, watching the Temple be rebuilt, seeing their life restored. I love that the author notes you couldn't tell the weeping from the shouting. It's all emotional tumult: the joy of return, the pain of all that time away, pain which maybe couldn't even be fully acknowledged until this moment, because to acknowledge it fully would have been to recognize the utter defeat, the despair of being carried off into captivity.
Do we "modern" people have the same sense of home these ancient peoples did? A Jewish friend of mine described a powerful sense of homecoming when she went to Israel -- and I can only imagine what it felt like to Jews emigrating to newly born Israel after the Holocaust, the power of that homecoming. I felt some sense of that when I went to Scotland where my ancestors are from. But I think for me, my sense of my physical home is more malleable, perhaps where I happen to be at any particular time. That powerful sense of belonging which some call home, I experience through my faith, through my relationship with God, who is not confined to any one place.
Still, these days I am experiencing a taste of that physical homecoming. I am clearing my house out of years of accumulated stuff. The backyard, which was inundated and unapproachable for years, is under construction. I can see my walls and walk in my rooms without bumping into things. Relationship changes have led to this new openness, this reclamation project, and since change is fraught I am excited and anxious, joyful and weeping as I find myself coming home.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for all the pain and challenges that have led me to this point, and for the new and spacious home that is opening before me. Let it be a place where You dwell in serenity and peace. Amen
What does it mean to come home? These Israelites had been in exile in Babylon for over 100 years, and here they were back in Jerusalem, watching the Temple be rebuilt, seeing their life restored. I love that the author notes you couldn't tell the weeping from the shouting. It's all emotional tumult: the joy of return, the pain of all that time away, pain which maybe couldn't even be fully acknowledged until this moment, because to acknowledge it fully would have been to recognize the utter defeat, the despair of being carried off into captivity.
Do we "modern" people have the same sense of home these ancient peoples did? A Jewish friend of mine described a powerful sense of homecoming when she went to Israel -- and I can only imagine what it felt like to Jews emigrating to newly born Israel after the Holocaust, the power of that homecoming. I felt some sense of that when I went to Scotland where my ancestors are from. But I think for me, my sense of my physical home is more malleable, perhaps where I happen to be at any particular time. That powerful sense of belonging which some call home, I experience through my faith, through my relationship with God, who is not confined to any one place.
Still, these days I am experiencing a taste of that physical homecoming. I am clearing my house out of years of accumulated stuff. The backyard, which was inundated and unapproachable for years, is under construction. I can see my walls and walk in my rooms without bumping into things. Relationship changes have led to this new openness, this reclamation project, and since change is fraught I am excited and anxious, joyful and weeping as I find myself coming home.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for all the pain and challenges that have led me to this point, and for the new and spacious home that is opening before me. Let it be a place where You dwell in serenity and peace. Amen
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
The Incomparable
Isaiah 46:5 So to whom will you compare me, the Incomparable? Can you picture me without reducing me?
Here is the central paradox and difficultly about God: any way we come up with to try to describe God, whether simile, metaphor, allegory or image is inadequate to the task, falls far short of describing who/what God actually is. This is why Muslims and some Christians (and possibly some Jews, if memory serves) don't allow any pictures of God (for Muslims, it's any image of any creature, so their mosques are beautifully decorated with abstract art) in their houses of worship. Humans want to know, want to have some understanding of God, but the danger is that as soon as one aspect is described -- say, rock or fortress -- it's easy to get caught up in the image and forget that it's just a hint of God, one idea, one aspect of the Unfathomable Mystery. That is idolatry. Hinduism is often seen to be a polytheistic religion, but according to Huston Smith, in his wonderful series of talks with Bill Moyers, the various "gods" of the Hindu pantheon represent all the various aspects of the Divine Mystery, and so are not really separate gods at all. By having a multiplicity of gods, it reminds them that God is no one thing, but all things.
But how do we deal with this as Christians? Does it mean we must jettison all these ideas, the beautiful images given to us in the scriptures? I don't believe so. These images can be important sources of understanding about God and how we are to relate to him. What is important is to remember that they are only images, not the whole thing. What we are called into is engaging directly with the mystery through not knowing. Isaiah also tells us that I am to God as the pot is to the potter. How can the pot understand the potter? The pot is without understanding, without consciousness, without life. How can it understand the living being that creates it? So, what are the capabilities that God possesses that are as far above me as my consciousness, my mind and my life are beyond that of a pile of clay? This is the challenge. This is also the recognition of futility, in that my understanding can never even approach encompassing the whole of what God is. It is enough to bow down and honor the Presence that is the source of life.
Prayer: Dear God, You have endowed me with understanding and the desire to know. Help me accept my limitations with grace, and understand when to abandon intellectual striving and rest gratefully in Your Presence. Amen.
Here is the central paradox and difficultly about God: any way we come up with to try to describe God, whether simile, metaphor, allegory or image is inadequate to the task, falls far short of describing who/what God actually is. This is why Muslims and some Christians (and possibly some Jews, if memory serves) don't allow any pictures of God (for Muslims, it's any image of any creature, so their mosques are beautifully decorated with abstract art) in their houses of worship. Humans want to know, want to have some understanding of God, but the danger is that as soon as one aspect is described -- say, rock or fortress -- it's easy to get caught up in the image and forget that it's just a hint of God, one idea, one aspect of the Unfathomable Mystery. That is idolatry. Hinduism is often seen to be a polytheistic religion, but according to Huston Smith, in his wonderful series of talks with Bill Moyers, the various "gods" of the Hindu pantheon represent all the various aspects of the Divine Mystery, and so are not really separate gods at all. By having a multiplicity of gods, it reminds them that God is no one thing, but all things.
But how do we deal with this as Christians? Does it mean we must jettison all these ideas, the beautiful images given to us in the scriptures? I don't believe so. These images can be important sources of understanding about God and how we are to relate to him. What is important is to remember that they are only images, not the whole thing. What we are called into is engaging directly with the mystery through not knowing. Isaiah also tells us that I am to God as the pot is to the potter. How can the pot understand the potter? The pot is without understanding, without consciousness, without life. How can it understand the living being that creates it? So, what are the capabilities that God possesses that are as far above me as my consciousness, my mind and my life are beyond that of a pile of clay? This is the challenge. This is also the recognition of futility, in that my understanding can never even approach encompassing the whole of what God is. It is enough to bow down and honor the Presence that is the source of life.
Prayer: Dear God, You have endowed me with understanding and the desire to know. Help me accept my limitations with grace, and understand when to abandon intellectual striving and rest gratefully in Your Presence. Amen.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
God lasts
Isaiah 40:28 God doesn't come and go. God lasts.
I came back to faith when it became clear that nothing that I was putting my trust in was worthy of it because none of it lasted: not love, not work, not happiness, not even misery; none of it lasted. So I came back seeking a faith, a belief in what does last.
The Buddhists would say that nothing lasts, and that is what God is: no thing. God is immaterial: God cannot be touched with the fingers, or seen with the eyes or heard with the ears; the reality of God lies beyond all the material world. And yet the Christian tradition teaches this paradox: we cannot touch, see or hear God, but we can know God, we can experience God. It requires stillness and patience and openness of heart. It requires letting go of our own agenda and surrendering to whatever is in the present moment. It calls us to open our senses and really see, hear and taste what is here with us and then, in a moment, if we are lucky and grace comes upon us, then, in the words of Blanche DuBois, "sometimes there's God, so quickly." For me, God often shows up in tears or laughter, or an overpowering sense of awe. Such moments are a glimpse into the Divine, and they have created such a hunger and thirst in me to know God more closely and intimately, to read and learn about and try to understand the teachings of the mystics about God, as well as the Bible and leaders of the past and present. And so, I came to faith when everything else disappointed me, and thus discovered my passion, my vocation, my true calling, my spiritual path, my life in faith.
Prayer: Dear God, I am so grateful for the hunger and thirst which you have stirred in me, and that drives me to know you more. I am grateful for the path you have brought me to, with all its challenges, and the transformation of the heart which you are working within me. Help me stay focused on what is essential and leave behind all the rest, so that my life may become increasingly devoted to living in Your Presence, and sharing Your Light with the world. Amen.
I came back to faith when it became clear that nothing that I was putting my trust in was worthy of it because none of it lasted: not love, not work, not happiness, not even misery; none of it lasted. So I came back seeking a faith, a belief in what does last.
The Buddhists would say that nothing lasts, and that is what God is: no thing. God is immaterial: God cannot be touched with the fingers, or seen with the eyes or heard with the ears; the reality of God lies beyond all the material world. And yet the Christian tradition teaches this paradox: we cannot touch, see or hear God, but we can know God, we can experience God. It requires stillness and patience and openness of heart. It requires letting go of our own agenda and surrendering to whatever is in the present moment. It calls us to open our senses and really see, hear and taste what is here with us and then, in a moment, if we are lucky and grace comes upon us, then, in the words of Blanche DuBois, "sometimes there's God, so quickly." For me, God often shows up in tears or laughter, or an overpowering sense of awe. Such moments are a glimpse into the Divine, and they have created such a hunger and thirst in me to know God more closely and intimately, to read and learn about and try to understand the teachings of the mystics about God, as well as the Bible and leaders of the past and present. And so, I came to faith when everything else disappointed me, and thus discovered my passion, my vocation, my true calling, my spiritual path, my life in faith.
Prayer: Dear God, I am so grateful for the hunger and thirst which you have stirred in me, and that drives me to know you more. I am grateful for the path you have brought me to, with all its challenges, and the transformation of the heart which you are working within me. Help me stay focused on what is essential and leave behind all the rest, so that my life may become increasingly devoted to living in Your Presence, and sharing Your Light with the world. Amen.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Enter the silence
Lamentations 3:28 When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence.
What a surprise, in reading Jeremiah’s poetic ode to the suffering of his people in exile in
I began meditating in 1971, just after graduating from college, because I thought I needed a stronger emotional grounding in my life. I began with Transcendental Meditation, which is from the Hindu tradition and involves the use of a mantra. When I returned to church some years later, and began reading about the contemplative tradition in Christianity, I began doing Centering Prayer, which relies on a sacred word to recall the mind from its meanderings into thought. More recently, I have practiced contemplative prayer in the Thomas Merton tradition, which has many similarities to Buddhist mindfulness practice. Each tradition has its own methodologies, but the common thread is letting go of the incessant thinking that dominates our awareness and becoming aware of the unhurried nature of being in the present moment.
Each day, for 20 or 30 minutes twice a day, I sit in silence. This is the commitment that I have been faithful to for over 35 years, my primary spiritual practice out of which all the others flow. It forms the foundation for my spiritual journey, the fertile ground out of which my faith has grown. I close my eyes and sit comfortably. I may use a sacred word, follow my breath or simply do my best to stay present with what is, gently calling my mind back when it inevitably wanders off into thinking. I abandon any responsibility for doing, for accomplishing, for being in charge, and allow myself simply to be here, in the present moment. I surrender all that I am and all that I have, in that moment, into God’s Hands, and there I find my delight in Her Presence, deep rest and full acceptance of what is.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for calling me to you through the practice of sacred silence. Meet me there. Amen.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Recognizing God
Hosea 5:4b They wouldn’t recognize God if they saw me.
Do I recognize God in my life? Can I see the Hand of the Divine at work in my world? If God is everywhere, then God is always here with me now. What does it take to open my senses to God’s presence? Huston Smith, a religious scholar who has been interviewed frequently by Bill Moyers, wrote in one of his books that: Atheists believe there is no God, polytheists believe there are many gods, monotheists believe there is one God and mystics believe there is only God. Ever since I read that I’ve known that mysticism called to me. Einstein said that either nothing is a miracle, or everything is a miracle. It’s a choice, and I choose the wonder and curiosity of the miraculous every time. But choosing and living are not the same. How do I live the awareness of the Presence of the Holy One?
Karen Armstrong points out that the God of the mystics is approached primarily through the organ of the creative imagination, the image-making, non-linear side of the brain. In the book My Stroke of Insight, its author describes her experience of oceanic transcendence as a stroke put her linear, left brain out of commission. And what is the benefit? A sense of deep peace and connection with all that is, the life all around us: other people, other species and all of creation.
So today, my intention is to see God everywhere I look, in ugliness as well as beauty, in struggle as well as peace, in raucous activity as well as quietness. I can only do that by slowing down, breathing and taking each moment as it comes, encouraging myself to notice the silence between the words, the ineffable in everything I touch, and to behold it all with the heart of compassion.
Prayer: Dear God, I long to see Your presence and beauty every moment of my life. Open the eyes of my heart to better apprehend Your Divine Being all around me in the people and things of the every day. Amen.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Known by God
Genesis 16:13 She answered God by name, praying to the God who spoke to her, “You’re the God who sees me! Yes! He saw me; and then I saw him.”
God sees us, each of us, deep into our innermost being. God witnesses us and everything we do.
When my mother died suddenly several years ago, I was unprepared for the onslaught of grief. I loved my mother, of course, but she was a difficult person to get close to, stoic, independent and private. On my birthday, especially, I felt her loss, and I realized she had always been there, from the beginning, even before the beginning. What is my birthday if not homage to her and what she did for me? She was the one I performed for – Mommy, see, look at me, look what I did! – who had walked with me from my very first steps through all that life brought: marriage, the birth of my child, the death of my husband and then a new marriage. She stood as a witness to everything I had ever been. Did I actually even exist if she wasn’t there to see me?
Here, Hagar is discovering that God is also the witness to our lives. God sees and understands more truly than any human being possibly can. So even though my mother is gone, God is with me to witness all I have done and all I will ever do. God sees me. God is my witness. Now I perform my life for the delight of God.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for your witnessing presence in my life, for knowing me better than I know myself, for inviting me on your path, guiding me when I lose my way, picking me up when I stumble, rejoicing in my victories, consoling me in my defeats. Let all that I am and all that I do be for your delight and honor. Amen.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
If you live in my presence
1Kings 9:4 As for you, if you live in my presence as your father David lived, pure in heart and action, living the life I’ve set out for you, attentively obedient to my guidance and judgements…
Okay, first God appeared to Solomon a second time. Wow! Twice! I can’t say God has appeared to me even once, so that in itself is just remarkable, blows me away. What is it like to have God appear to you? It must be terribly frightening, as well as so exciting and affirming, definitely a peak experience. That of course is something God does in your life, and you have no control over it, who he appears to and who not. It’s not something I expect to happen to me.
But this idea of living in God’s presence, that is something I do try to do. It is the focus of these devotions, of my reading and meditation, and various other activities which I would call “contemplative”. It is the process and intent of the contemplative life, to live in God’s presence. Brother Lawrence calls it “Practicing the Presence of God” and its possibilities are available to me every moment of every day. And what does that require of me? A slowing down. An intentional awareness. I need to stop, breathe and pay attention. Step out of the mind’s incessant chatter to feel the air on my cheek, notice what is around me, right within my grasp. In those moments of stopping and noticing, of stillness and paying attention, I can see God’s presence in the wonder and beauty of creation, experience it in the simplest things, my breath. In those moments, God is my breath, moving in and out of me, sustaining me, giving me life. When I pray, when I meditate, when I read the Bible and reflect on its meaning for my life, when I call on the Holy Spirit to speak to me through scripture, or writing an icon, or through interactions with groups I belong to at my church, I also feel this connection. Something shifts in me. I move from anxiety to calm, from agitation to peace, from worry to equanimity. That I guess is the surest proof I have of God’s presence in my life.
Prayer: Dear God, Remind me to take the time to be still for your presence. Help me to resist distractions, so that I may rest intentionally, unapologetically and wholeheartedly in your peace. Amen
Friday, February 15, 2008
Give me a God-listening heart
1Kings 3:9 “Here’s what I want: Give me a God-listening heart so I can lead your people well, discerning the difference between good and evil. For who on their own is capable of leading your glorious people?”
God has appeared to Solomon, now King of Israel after David’s death, and asked him what he wants. Most translations of the Bible use the word “wisdom” for what Solomon asks for, but I loved this description: “a God-listening heart”. Isn’t that what we all need -- a direct line to the divine? But of course it’s not that simple. The key here I think is listening. How do I listen for God’s “voice”? First I need quiet, silence, space and separation from the chatter of everyday life—of our culture, the media, phones and cell phones and pagers and ipods, other people, and of course, the chatter in my own mind. That last is probably the hardest. Then I need some way to tune in to the Presence. Jim Finley, a teacher and former monk under Thomas Merton, talks about being “present, open and awake”. Eckhart Tolle, author of The Power of Now, talks about being in the Now. Each of us hears and understands what that means differently, but it does mean something about being in the present moment, distracted neither by the past or the future, “neither clinging to nor rejecting anything”, as Jim Finley elaborates. Lent is a good time to spend time in quiet, listening to God. In the next verse, it says, “God…was delighted with Solomon’s response.” God is delighted with us, too, when we choose to spend time in God’s presence.
Prayer: Dear Lord, Life is so full of distractions, it’s easy to get pulled away from my focus on You. Help me say no to distractions, take the time and the space to sit in Your Presence that I may listen with all my heart. Amen
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