Monday, November 12, 2018

The Eternally Persecuted Jew

Recently another horrible anti-Semitic act was perpetrated, and 11 innocent people seeking after God had their lives cut short. The hatred in the human heart is real, and even the most self-convinced charitable ones are guilty. We all need a savior, whether we know it or not, and sometimes even those who believe they are following their savior are woefully blind and lost. There is a great beauty and perfection in life. It’s a fountain and reservoir of mystery, and also a sad tragedy. The record of humanity has a scratch and sounds on a dissonant repeat that is offensive to the ear and painful to the soul.

A few months back a priest — a rector no less and a Dr. — were in a room together with a group of parishioners. No this is not the start of a joke, or is it? There was to be an informative discussion on some topic or another. The details of that topic have evaded me since, but the shock and dissonance of what to many in the room may have seemed a casual joke, still rings in my ears and unsettles my being. Somehow the conversation turned to the Middle East and in this context the notion of certain Jewish people whose sacred belief forbids them from building on certain land deemed Holy. “Ha Ha Ha!”, they laughed. “If they actually tried to build they would all fall dead, according to their own beliefs. Ha Ha Ha.” The room also joined in a perfunctory chuckle. But not me. I had a knot in my stomach, and everything within my being said something feels wrong here — very, very wrong. 

Should we really be laughing at the expense of both mocking a belief system (that clearly this priest understood as childish superstition) and people dying? And not just any people, the Jewish people. Have the atrocities committed against this particular group not made us the least bit sensitive to their plight? Does no one sense a cognizant dissonance here grating on their ears like that damn broken record that will not stop skipping?

I did not speak up and say something. I felt shocked and appalled. When I feel this way I shut down. The words do not come. I go home and machinate the complex of mixed emotions cursing through my blood. I talk to my "Dear and kind loving husband”* and eventually at three in the morning when I cannot sleep they pour on paper. I had thought sooner about writing a FB post . . . but I hesitated, not wanting to rock the boat, create more tension and discord. This same priest has mocked other people with different faith beliefs — those with whom he does not align — and considers his understandings oh so much better, smarter, more evolved. I wonder if these same Jewish people disposed of this sacred belief held for so long. Someday in the future decided to build on this Holy Land, perhaps materialism wins out and the illusion of the sacred mists into the clouds passing by and is no more. What if perchance terrible accidents began to happen, would he believe then? Would he honor those Jewish people then? He is so comfortable to get up in the pulpit and boast about how open and loving he is, how much he enjoyed a Seder dinner, and how certain lines in the Bible are not excuses for Jewish persecution, and yet . . . . Blindness is real and sometimes so easily seen.

The love of Jesus is not: I love and honor you as long as you agree with me, otherwise I am free to mock and scorn you. No, the love of Jesus says: I love you. That is all. Love your neighbor. That is all. Love me and love your neighbor. So simple and yet . . . . Will we ever cease to persecute the Jew who is love incarnate? “For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things . . . that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death” (Philippians 3:8,10).

Repent of that which does not allow you to love me more fully, he begs us, but I love you still. Seek me and you will find me. So merciful and so gentle. Can we find gentleness when dealing with that with which we disagree? Or are we in bondage to evil in all its forms? Hatred masked in so many cloaks of amor. This force has not the power to protect us, nor uplift. There are choices to be made and actions to follow. 

May the clarity of perfect truth shine a light to our mirrors and help us see, may the world know your peace. May the music of the heavens sing through humanity, and uplift us to your perfect Love. Amen.  

*An honest sentiment, but also a quote from the poem by Anne Bradstreet.


Tuesday, October 30, 2018

The Dream Vision

I had a dream the other night. I was in the car and Calvin was there. My consciousness was floating above my head in a unified field of white-yellow shimmering light. The thought in the dream that presented itself was the idea that our calling is to come to peace with seemingly opposite ideas so that they may be unified and not in conflict.

I remember once my mom in speaking about the Bible mentioned how one could find everything in there and its opposite. I am not so sure about everything — some things are pretty clear-cut, but she made a good point. There are many opposites or seemingly contrary ideas, which of course makes it important to examine context and not simply pull a verse out and call it randomly ultimate truth because it aligns with our personal cause. My friend’s mother once spoke about the Bible being the living bible. I like this thought and idea. I have had the experience where a word or a phrase literally comes to life. I know what she means. I do think there is a place and a mystery for something that resonates with our own personal story that may not do so with our neighbor in that moment in time.

All that to say, it is not difficult to thoughtfully consider perhaps Jesus' words to Martha — “You are anxious and troubled about many things” (Luke 10:41) — and understand that busy Martha is missing the subtleties in life, the sweet message and presence of Christ, because she is too busy doing, to notice. Too preoccupied, too caught up. For the naturally slothful person Christ might admonish them on the contrary to get up and do, go help their neighbor — “Go to the ant, O sluggard; consider her ways and be wise. Without having any chief, officer, or ruler, she prepares her bread in summer and gathers her food in harvest” (Proverbs 6:6-8). So opposing ideas can both be right and good and grounded in truth. This idea seems to hold a key that gets easily misplaced when trying to unlock the mysteries of those others, or ideas that somehow bother us, or we just can't quite accept as right.

I had an observation the other day while scrolling through Facebook. I pretty much know what to expect from certain people, their political perspectives, or areas of grievance. The idea that came to mind was how people tend to project into the world and feel passionate (and often very righteous) about certain subjects. They want to change these certain aspects of the world. It seemed the more I examined this, the more it seemed to make sense that the very thing they are angry about in the world and trying to change, seems to tie into an aspect of their own being that perhaps is not acting in accordance with a certain moral law, or at peace within, and so the MO is to fix it — not within their own being, but rather by fighting the world.

A priest the other day preached on the passage where Jesus referred to the Syrophoenecian woman as a dog (“It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs” — Mark 7:27). She was in an uproar about this. She even said something to the effect of perhaps Jesus meriting a proverbial slap from the Holy Spirit!! To say that I was shocked was an understatement. Her understanding is: here is a poor woman, and this is how Christ treats her. But the very fact that he uses the words he uses are the exact tool from which she can then show her perfect humility. She does not buck in self-righteousness, but rather persists and in a certain way agrees with Jesus' description. He follows by recognizing the state of her heart and heals her. This priest was offended. She was not OK  with this — and yet there is such a powerful and beautiful way to understand this passage. Being caught up in her modern day human understanding of right and wrong, there was no way that reference to a woman as a dog was OK — ever. And yet, if we look at the God-incarnate, sinless God-man and worship he who is the savior of the world, don't we all fall short of that kind of glory? If he is our Master it seems that men, women and children are all in some respect dogs in comparison to the One who is sinless. Masters in fact love their dogs but can recognize a proper order and relationship.

Apparently there is an aspect in Eastern religions where young devotees are given riddles to sit with. They are riddles that bother the mind in the sense that they are paradoxical, and yet there is a place with the right amount of work in wrestling with these riddles where the mind releases the struggle and is enabled to accept the paradox. Or from a Christian perspective, perhaps the Holy Spirit moves the spiritual sludge into clean flowing water, the crooked is made straight. It seems there are two ways to approach those things that prick us, make our stomachs tighten, and our minds begin to whirl. One is to lash out at the world and try to move a mountain and the other maybe to go deep inside and gaze into a reflection that is not the one we want to see — to call on a Savior to illumine the way out, and wait for the Holy Spirit to move the molehill and continue in the dance of life.



Friday, October 12, 2018

Weather to Believe

I felt encouraged the other day while listening to NPR. The subject at hand was "Climate Change". If ever there were two words to stir up a heated debate with religious proportions, these would be the two. It seems there are two schools of thought when it comes to this "oh so controversial" issue. One is that man has been careless and reckless and created destructive outcomes for the earth and planet, and we darn well better do something about it, or Armageddon is about to become real. “The earth lies defiled under its inhabitants; for they have transgressed the laws, violated the statutes, broken the everlasting covenant” (Isaiah 24:5). The other seems to be that the earth has always gone through cyclical changes over vast amounts of time, and something greater than ourselves is ultimately perfectly in charge and in control and we need not worry. So maybe those are the extreme versions, but that is my basic understanding. 

I don't always agree with my mother-in-law, but one time she said: "Everybody thinks their version of right is the right version of right". For some reason this really stuck with me, and the more I thought about it, the more I agreed. To take it a step further though, I don't think people always act in a way that even corresponds with their own version of right. Sometimes one may actually not be sure which right is most right and act in a way that is comfortable and could be right, but maybe is not. 

I do believe in grey. I think there is room for gray in climate change too. Maybe we have not been good stewards of the earth. “Let them have dominion over all the earth” (Gen. 1:26). Due to sin in the form of greed and gluttony. Maybe Mother Earth is desperately calling out to us and saying “pay attention”. Maybe God has a plan for the planet that no man, woman, or child can change despite the most heartfelt efforts. 

I was encouraged though listening to this podcast because the gentleman who was speaking was someone who works for clean energy. He in fact is a proponent of "Climate Change", but at some point he said: "It does not really matter what you believe". It rang like music to my ears. He went on to say how many "red" states are actually leading the way in clean energy, particularly wind powered in this case. He said that pretty much everyone agrees in lower pollution; healthier air to breathe, and everyone agrees with lower costs. Bam. So beautiful. I just love this because people waste so much time trying to convince the other that their right is the right version of what is right. Most people are not willing to give that up, and maybe rightly so. Who is to say that what may be right for me at a certain time might be wrong for you etc. I am not saying that I do not believe in an objective reality where no moral laws exist—clearly I do. But God works in mysterious ways and can turn hearts in ways we can not imagine or even begin to understand. “For those who love God all things work together for good” (Romans 8:28). 

As mere mortals we can not read the hearts of men nor tell the future, but we can find areas of agreement and work towards mutual goals. I realize some areas are harder than others and the road seems more fog filled when such disparate priorities are in play, but I love the idea that it does not matter what you believe. I don't know if I have completely carved out the depth of that, but it seems there is something good there. Even people with supposed same or similar beliefs can have large areas of discord. It seems there is a meeting ground for humanity that lies not in one's beliefs but rather in one's actions for a common good. I felt a glimmer of hope in this unique gentleman's approach to such a divisive subject. “For in this hope we were saved” (Romans 8:24). 

I once knew a friend who said something to the effect of: "If there are only two choices, right and wrong, black and white, then there is not God". Kind of like Bishop Curry's where there is not love, there is not God. “God is love”; “Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him” 1 John 4:8 and 4:16b). God is life. God is far more complex than mere black and white, for all the colors of the rainbow exist within white (reflects all colors). Black is an absorption, lack of its own hue. Sometimes things are not what they seem and when it comes to God, certainly how much more so.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Predicament

I am a follower of Christ, and I hate my neighbor. There, I said it out loud. How can this be, I ask myself? Is this not against all that I not only embrace but am called for? (“You shall love your neighbor as yourself”). Yet, here I am. Ok, maybe hate is the wrong word, but it kinda feels that way. I am angry, and I know that anger is hurt — hurt at another's misguided sense of purpose and hurt at my own ignoring of my inner story. This is about a woman who from day one since we moved to this neighborhood has felt free to comment on our child and parenting choices. She has not been kind, nor helpful. Usually it is about controlling the situation all the while presenting it under the pretext of caring so very much. She has been petty and made passive aggressive comments that say, "You are doing it wrong, you are a bad parent, it is not good enough". 

The other day at the bus stop she approached me and really caught me off guard. It just happened, of course, that I woke up late that particular day. I rushed to get dressed but was literally still in a half-dream state when she lambasted me — first with several of her typical "savior stories": “Oh, the kids were playing hide and seek, under the car, then in the car in the heat. But yes: I was there to save the day.” The reality is we live in a very kid-friendly neighborhood. Our street ends in a cul-de-sac, and kids play along the street between us and a few other houses in a row. Off hand, I count about 15 kids and they all play together all the time. All the parents take part in watching out, keeping an eye on these little ones.

One thing she probably is not even aware of is that we actually have a perfectly clear view of her yard from our window. However, nonetheless, she went on to basically say that my children were responsible for her child's anxiety, that Pierson (whose little brother Soren follows and plays with her child) is also the problem. Sometimes Soren cries (surprise he's 3!), and this is causing her son anxiety because he does not know how to handle the situation. She continued with her passive aggressive insults: "I don't know what your parenting style is...blah blah blah", and per usual, each time I tried to explain my side of the story, view, etc., she immediately shut me down and said: “No, that's not the way it is.” 

Still half asleep my head began to spin. I basically muttered something to the effect of: "Well, maybe it is better if they just play at our house" and walked away. But that was it, I was done. I went home and cried. I cried because in that moment I felt empty and broken. I felt like I don't know how to do better, there is nothing left to give. I just don't know what it is and I definitely don't have it. Then I got mad. Mad that for five years I have been gracious and compliant. There was the time her babysitter came over to our house to ask for Pierson to play with his friend. This would have made the baby sitter’s life easier to have a happily entertained little boy to watch, both boys happier — and frankly given me a break too. She immediately came over when she returned from work that day explaining how this was absolutely not feasible since she could not burden her poor babysitter with two children when she was only paying for one. Once again being oh-so-conscientious. 

There was the time we were on a family walk in the neighborhood and Pierson was playing with his other neighbor friend, and she so sweetly said: "Where is the other member of your family'?”, full well knowing that he and his little friend decided to jump the fence that day and had just been caught when his other little friend’s parents went looking for them. We subsequently—all of five to ten minutes later—found this out ourselves. There was the time at the swimming pool when I was only a few weeks postpartum and desperately made it to the pool to get Pierson out of the house. With baby Soren on my lap under the umbrella, her husband came over to me whining that Pierson had splashed him in the face and would not apologize. If I had had my wits about me, I could have responded: "Deal with it, you're a principal after all". But again, vulnerable and caught off guard, I explained our struggles with getting Pierson to listen, that we have tried the being-nice route, tried the cracking down route, and nothing seems to work. I apologized profusely and tripped over my words, my heart feeling raw and helpless. I could go on but I think the picture is clear. 

After the last incident at the bus stop that morning, I forbid my boys to be on their property, but something in me broke. I am done being compliant, gracious, trying to explain, only to be brushed off or down right shut down. I AM DONE. And yet — I can no longer look her in the face. And yet — I am called to love. Hmmm. gosh darn it. Even this morning, a father at the bus stop said goodbye to Pierson, and Pierson ignored him. Usually she sits in her car, but today she happened to come out to be social (how does she do that?). When Calvin went up to Pierson and gently corrected him about his behavior, the fellow kind of said: "Oh,  it doesn't matter", and she immediately joined him in agreement, criticizing that Calvin is being overly serious and correcting. I was standing directly on the other side and so could hear and see.

So which is it? I want to say, one minute we are not correcting and cautious enough with our child, and the other we are too much so? But I don't. I quietly tell Calvin she's at it again. I was looking forward to a nice breakfast, but am no longer hungry. I am angry, and here I am — I hate my neighbor. It's ok, it's my problem, I know it, and I own it. How do I get from here to love, I wonder? Where is my compassion for a woman who is desperately trying to feel that she has a stake in something in which she does not. Wanting to be a good and charitable being, yet stuck in controlling, critical behaviors that in her mind are out of caring, yet are hurtful and stressful to those on the receiving end. One who cannot listen but must always be the speaker. I can learn from you dear women. I am you too. 

My sadness perhaps lies in giving too much, to not be received, trying to enter into true relationship — and yet that door is not open. Where do my own secret sins lie? Do I use in other areas these same tricky tools of the devil's deception? I feel calmer now. I feel grace, and I feel peace. It was not in my time (which is the immediate, or better said, yesterday), but in the trust the time does come. “They who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength” (Isaiah 40:31). I feel grateful that she has energized me to have some fierce workouts burning off the spin of my mind (things I would like to say, but will not). I am grateful for writing and the cathartic nature of pen to paper. I will try to love you as my neighbor, but I may fail, and that is ok. Somehow your constant poking has emptied me, and from this space, the Lord can now fill me, and that is a gift. 

I don't know where to go from here, but I know I can let go of knowing, trying, explaining and justifying. Pierson is my gift from my Father above. He is my first born and my love. Certainly I have failed—sometimes too harsh, sometimes not enough so—but all I can give is what I have and somehow that must be enough. Maybe you push me to push myself to be a better parent, and maybe you teach me that enough is just right. So I sink in the gratitude and begin to feel the forgiveness. I can love you not by trying but rather by letting go. Through him all things are possible (“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”). And for now that is abundantly so, and so much more than enough.

Saturday, September 29, 2018

A Poem for a Change

Fall swept in overnight, so it seems.
At night a moon beam called and was answered into now.
Coolness propels me forward as I run through your essence.
Beware of the low branch where the spiders now play,
Weaving their tapestries and guiding our way.
Soon to be pumpkins on doorsteps.
Smiling and scaring our spirits each night,
The children are ready with costumes,
A fright to celebrate your beauty, your colors, your might.

Winter bear will soon embrace me,
Coaxing gently with soft moans.
At first will I resist,
Only to be succumbed by your soft pillow chest.
I lay my head upon you,
And with claws protecting and rocking
In your hammock I doze.
The dream is fully formed.
Now wandering through the mind,
There is music, and chocolate and babies who croon.
There are whispers and hushes as the pictures change.
There are crowds and then loneliness in a sullen pond.

Stop poking, persisting, your beak is too sharp, I am not ready yet.
My slumber is warming, my heart is closed shut.
Your chirps are disturbing, your buzzes so strong,
Please let me sleep just one more moment long.
Oh butterfly you conquer, your beauty too great,
You tempt me and pull me to flight oh so light.
My eyes are now open, the bees lead the way,
Your fragrance dear flowers intoxicates my day.

Oh day you grew longer,
Your nights are more bright.
I jump and I swim in pure summer's delight.
Pure bliss is my state,
Not a chill or a burden, no cares in my mind.
The voyage begins as it ends once more,
We navigate our paths until safely ashore.

The Miracle of Faith

Faith is a funny concept. I believe I wrote before about faith and how we make leaps of faith every day. We act in faith when we set the alarm to wake us in the morning or when we buy food for the week. Yet, when we are called to make a leap of faith outside the realm of our normal activities, somehow it seems absurd. I see faith as a kind of riddle. Once we know the answer to the riddle, it is so simple and straightforward. What was shrouded in darkness and mystery is fully illuminated and has become obvious. It is hard to conceive of how it could not have always been so. It seems to me that somehow miracles and faith are intimately connected. Once we take the leap of faith—the trusting of something larger than our limited view—the panorama shifts, and it is larger and more beautiful than we could have imagined. But if we stay safe within the castle walls, we can never really know what lies on the other side. 


Recently Calvin was engaged in a conversation with his sister about God, the Bible and various teachings and stories. She seemed to conclude that she could not believe in God because she could not agree with certain biblical stories that did not make logical sense to her. It seemed that unless she could fully understand and accept or agree with, on a basic level, all of it, that she must reject the whole thing. What a funny approach, I thought, what subject of any vastness does one approach from the get-go with the idea that I must understand everything about the subject and be in agreement with it before I enter into exploring it? It seems a bit crazy really, but I don't think her reasoning is at all uncommon when it comes to a belief in God. 


With almost anything that pursues, there is a great deal of unknowing, yet still a willingness to enter into the subject or activity with the understanding that you learn as you go. If the Bible really is a book in some sense designed or even inspired by God to teach about all of life and spirit, then perhaps its vastness and depth are never fully understood? I think if we are able to embrace the idea of something greater than our current knowing, it lies within that very willingness to actually make it a possibility. 


Faith—A few miracles come to mind, one where Jesus turned the water into wine at the marriage of Cana (John 2:1-11), and another, the feeding of the 5,000 (Mark 6:30-44). It is interesting to me in both of these miracles there is something very tangible to our current understanding. However, the call is to take that understanding just a little bit further than our logical left-brain comfort zone. One can certainly conceive of the rain from the heavens nourishing and watering the vine, to produce the grape, to fall to the ground and ferment then voila: "beaujolais nouveau au nature". We can look at a piece of fish in our plate whole and solid, and begin to flake it into pieces—it seems to multiply before our eyes, what was one solid fish is now 1,000 fish flakes ready to feed the masses. 


If Christ is in Divine alignment, constant communion, able to carry out his Father's perfect will, it makes it not such a huge leap of faith to conceive of the space time continuum being mastered, functioning outside of the "normal." Even science has concluded that after a road long travelled in aiming to unravel the origins and function of reality, there is a place that arrives at a great mystery—cause and effects changed by the observed. These examples of miracles are concrete enough to grasp, yet demand just a bit more. If one is willing to go the extra mile, the fruit is produced of its own accord. The riddle is answered. Christ calls us to be like children — “Whoever humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 18:4). These little ones can sometimes illuminate the magical freedom to be found when the logic is not so fully formed as to build a closed cage. We have heard the expression "free your mind" in song and memes, but therein does lie a true thing. The link between mind and reality are perhaps more fluid that we care to embrace. Can we walk on the unsteady waters, yet know we are held and loved by something so much larger and more perfect than we could ever imagine? Only way to know is to dive in with a leap of faith...then let the miracles begin.

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Love Is Not the Answer

A few months ago at the Royal wedding Bishop Curry preached a sermon. The world was in awe at the beauty and power of his sermon. I met Bishop Curry about 11 years ago in Raleigh at Church of the Nativity which I was attending at the time. We sang for him several times, and he was always grateful and made a point to thank the musicians. Whenever he was at church, he always brought with him a ray of sunshine that seemed to be bursting forth with Christ's love. It just naturally poured forth from his being. He has said "if there is not Love, there is not God." I loved Bishop Curry the first moment I met him. When the world responded to Bishop Curry's "charisma" (as one atheistic/agnostic friend remarked and named it) I thought to myself: that is not "charisma", that is Truth. 

When Truth speaks, people feel it, respond to it, react to it. I am often disappointed after church. Maybe my expectations are too high. I want to hear a preacher, not one who tells me his or her political view and then tries haphazardly to glue it to the scripture of the day. Not one who mockingly describes beliefs different than his or her own with an air of superior righteousness “None is righteous, no, not one” (Romans 3:10). Rather, I want to hear the Truth, plain and simple. Give me the scripture, perhaps illuminate the historical or scenario context and then get out of the way and let Truth speak. It will work its way into the depth of each being’s individual needs and illuminate and transform of its own accord. That is the power of the living, breathing word of God. 

The Bible tells us the heart is evil. “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?” (Jeremiah 17:9). I have to admit, I always find that pill a bit hard to swallow. It seems there is something pure and good in the heart. Something that informs, perhaps informs even that deepest innate knowing of God. “For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them” (Romans 1:19). There is though the heart’s deception, and maybe this is what that scripture points us to. We often hear “love is love”, “love is good”. In fact the scripture says "God is Love". Christ tells us the sum of the law and prophets is to first love God with all your soul, heart and mind, and the second is like unto it: love your neighbor as yourself. John 3:16 tells us God sent his only begotten son out of love to save the world. Such a powerful and touching scripture, not sent out of the will to judge and condemn but rather out of love. We feel Christ's pure love when he goes to the lost in mercy and even in his darkest moments pleads with his Father, in love: "forgive them, Father, for they know not". It seems in all this, love rules supreme. 

And yet, what is this about the evil heart? My aunt Suzanne once said, "I often pray to have made known my secret sins", and this is my light bulb moment. I think this illumines the difference, one kind of love is small, self-driven love, and the other is Agape love—the fountain that never stops flowing, the pure source that is the beginning and the end—The Alpha and Omega. The other is small love masked in all kinds of subtle self-serving needs. This love can feel like the real deal, and therein lies its own deceptive nature. Take Dante's Inferno and his infamous adulterous lovers Francesca and Paulo: the question remains for them, how can something that feels so ecstatic, so pure, so wonderful be bad? And yet...modern day psychology tells us that betrayal is one of the most difficult hardships a human being can bear, one from which many never recover.

I have a friend at church and I remember telling him about a story of a sister who was to be artificially inseminated, and he immediately in a very PC way said, "Yes I have no problem with that, good for her", but later I thought to myself: “but what about the child?” What about the child never knowing or having a father? We have our loves, our drives and ambitions....but what about the other? We are not islands. I believe we are connected perhaps more profoundly than we realize, our thoughts and actions affect others, often in ways we could not imagine.

Maybe this is the difference between a small self-driven love, albeit pleasurable and perhaps seemingly good, and the other enduring and constant, unchanging love of the Father. The difference of the sometimes love in our hearts, which can quickly turn to despising when our self-driven needs are not met. The classic love-hate relationship! Christ illuminates the core of the Agape love when he sacrifices his very being for the other, all the others. Even in his last breath, asking his Father for this cup to be taken from him and yet drinking it willingly, knowing fully the effect it would and could have for the other. 

Agape love, ever calling us and challenging us to find the subtle shades of small love and to expand its horizons beyond....beyond pleasure, beyond comfort, but eventually to rest in a peace much larger and more enduring than that which we can even conceive of if we continue to cling to the other. Love is not the answer, Agape love is!

Thursday, April 19, 2018

The Way, the Truth, and the Life

One of the joys I have found in writing a blog, is a cathartic effect. Taking the ever active thoughts that circle in the monkey mind, streamlining them, and bringing them out into the world. Sometimes the mere act of writing encourages clarity and perspective to enter in. It sorts through the cobwebs and untangles the knots. I feel at least for the moment a little lighter and more free than the moment before. Another sweetness added to the pot is the exchanges they foster with others. Sometimes my husband, Calvin, and often my aunt Suzanne.

My aunt Suzanne is actually not my aunt at all, but somehow that is how I have called her and that is what stuck. She is a brilliant being, actually my mother's first cousin. My grandmother and her mother are sisters. Suzanne literally and figuratively dances through life with joy and positivity. She, like me, comes from an atheistic French mother, but somehow we have both landed in Jesus and Christianity. I love the feedback she shares, and her perspective always makes me think a bit harder and probe a little deeper. It is a cherished gift. She is that "other" that I have spoken of, that other that uplifts and inspires. That other that makes the difference that we cannot make on our own—the continued and ever present need for the other, that completes our lives, and the cycle goes on, round and round.

Recently she sent me this from "Joseph Campbell's The Power of Myth :

Getting back into that Garden (of Eden) is the aim of many. When Yahweh threw man out of the Garden, he put two cherubim at the gate, with a flaming sword between them. Now, when you approach a Buddhist shrine, with the Buddha seated under the tree of immortal life, you will find at the gate two guardians—those are the cherubim, and you're going between them to the tree of immortal life. In the Christian tradition, Jesus on the cross is on a tree, the tree of immortal life, and he is the fruit of the tree. Jesus on the cross, the Buddha under the tree—these are the same figures. And the cherubim at the gate—who are they? At the Buddhist shrines you'll see one has his mouth open, the other has his mouth closed—fear and desire, a pair of opposites. If you're approaching a garden like that, and those two figures there are real to you and threaten you, if you have fear for your life, you are still outside the garden. But if you are no longer attached to your ego existence, but see the ego existence as a function of a larger, eternal totality, and you favor the larger against the smaller, then you won't be afraid of those two figures, and you will go through. We are kept out of the Garden by our own fear and desire in relation to what we think to be the goods of our life.

I found this to be such a profound and interesting paragraph and it sparked so many thoughts. On the one hand I agree with the writer that we can draw parallels and find the common ground in religious figures and stories. I definitely agree with the sentiment that inspired the sharing of the text in the first place, the ego's role in our lives, and it being a part of the function of the larger whole, and not the center of what is. But in another sense when I think of Buddha and I think of Christ, I see so many distinct differences.

It seems there are a couple of schools of thought when it comes to religion and their practices. Aside from those who reject religion altogether as some kind of man-made evil, or merely as system designed for power, control and manipulation (which I think is disingenuous, unexamined and overly simplistic), it seems for those, that at least in part embrace religion on some level, there are those that believe all religions are essentially the same. They believe that all religions are saying the same things and using different methods towards the end goal (to know God). I do agree there is some truth to this, and I think that a while ago I would have fit squarely in this camp. Then you have some people that are convicted that their religion is the true religion and all others are sorely misguided. There is also another area, where one can see the similarities and unified goals, but also recognize the unique subtleties and what those shades of color may or may not produce.

I used to feel frustrated when Calvin would dig his heels in on a passage or a point. Often after a sermon I would come out with a broad understanding of a spiritual implication that spoke to my understanding of truth. Calvin would focus in on the passage in a much more scrutinizing way, really insisting on the relevance of a certain turn of phrase, or often the context in which the passage was written and how that context subsequently would not allow for such a broad and sometimes simplistic over-arching truth. Rather it would point to a very specific application. Over time after many a heated discussion and back and forth, and often after letting go of my version of truth, I would not only see his understanding, but really appreciate the largeness in the subtlety of the detail. Sometimes the drops in the bucket add up and overflow, and each drop is it's own pearl of wisdom leading to the water of life.

When it comes to the specific writing example above, I can see a through-line in the idea that we are all made in God's image, the Buddha nature, the yogi's saying The Divinity in me salutes the Divinity in you. Buddhism to me seems like a very practical approach to life. How to master the mind, so the mind is not the master of you. How to live by it's simple straightforward, yet profound and noble truths, how these truths perhaps clear the individual consciousness from its own neurotic, self-sabotaging tendencies and make a path to experience something larger. Christ says "I am the way, the truth and the life, no man cometh unto to the father but by me" (John 14V6). Now one can understand this in a very limited way, and it still be rooted in perfect truth, but there is a way to understand this in its broader context too.

Who was Jesus the God-Man; what did he teach; what was his essence; how does his very being show us what God is and help us in our humanness to understand with such subtlety, yet clarity? When we read his words, the parables, study his lessons, that which is so much greater
is illumined through him. It is that illumination which leads us to the Father. And yet.... there are those that proclaim his name, without any of that understanding and their lives begin to change. Those that claim that Jesus came to them in a dream. The mystery, the miraculous.

There is an openness and expansiveness in seeing the connected synergies of all things. While there is a mutual goal in seeking through one of the varying paths and ways, for me there seems to be something unique about this self-proclaimed "son of man". I personally cannot put Jesus Christ in the same category of every other teacher, healer, and enlightened guru as many do. Maybe I am biased because of my personal Bhakti devotional nature and my own experience of the Risen Christ, but to me he stands out. There is something supremely unique in his way that touches people of so many different paths. Something very personal.

Buddhism does not believe in a personal God, but Christ calls his Father Abba (Mark 14:36) and encourages us to do the same. Not to merely bask in God's divine presence, but to be in conscious relationship with ultimate consciousness, perfection, the creator, the I-am-that-I-am, the alpha and the omega (Rev. 1:8). To me there is something unique and special there.

I was in a period of darkness in my life some years ago. I think I had been seeking a long time, my whole life, in a way. Always had a firm faith in God and spirit. On my trip to Peru with a missionary friend she kept talking about a prayer to ask Jesus Christ into your heart. So I did, what did I have to lose? My life changed dramatically (not eventually), although there were some changes that took time to manifest and continue to deepen and grow to this day. But in Peru after that day—literally, immediately in the days that followed—my life was forever altered. Truth was revealed in a clarity that was unparalleled. My eyes that were blind could see and I was given ears to hear (Matt. 13:16) . Why? Years later some new-age type friends mentioned the energetic component to Peru, and maybe that plays into things too. Maybe all those years of seeking found the ripe moment to bear fruit? “Seek and you will find, knock, and it will be opened to you” (Matt. 7:7). But maybe that is just another facet of God's greater plan when synchronicity is beyond logic. I can not explain it, but I experienced it, so the mystery can remain, and I am fine with that. Maybe that too is part of what it is all about, being OK with knowing and not knowing so much in simultaneous harmony.

Thursday, April 12, 2018

The Power of the Word

Of late I have been pondering the Word. God literally spoke existence into being. “He spoke and it came to be.” (Psalm 33:9) In thinking about order there seems to be a process that goes something like this: our being knows, our mind organizes, and then lastly (before manifestation into the physical plane comes the word), the speaking into existence that somehow makes things that were abstract become real. We can think something in our mind forever but once it is said, for better or for worse, the ripple is concretely in the cosmos of existence. We can have a sense of something, but when someone else says it, somehow it has power. 

Mantra practice, the repetitions of a word or phrase, is considered an ancient science, involving the study of the power of the word, the sound vibration and its consequent manifestation. There is a wise woman counselor I see occasionally whose name is Charlene. She is a life coach, a mystic, a psychic, a black belt in Taekwondo, a yoga teacher, a grandmother, and has also worked high profile jobs in the corporate world. She is spiritual, yet grounded and always says things that I find helpful and also that make me think. She talked before how every time a word is spoken it has a new energy, so is different than the time before (this was in reference to being subjected to information you already know). More recently in the context of a conversation about action verses humility, we spoke about the concept of being fully engaged, in other words doing the best you can do and doing it fully. 

We are here on this plane, in these bodies for a reason, and that means action, not inertia. But then there is the question of the ego and humility. She says it is inevitable that any action we take the ego is indeed involved, it is attached, part of the process. Then she said, "how could it be otherwise". In the moment it struck me, it seemed like a resignation. Sure the ego can catapult action, maybe its motives are not always pure (competitiveness, or to impress the other), but true: the results can sometimes be positive. We push ourselves, test our limits, and although the ego may be driving for the purpose of the other, that other is ultimately what is making us better, and the ego is just doing its job. 

What initially struck me as disappointing, as time passed actually became a real comfort. I would say the phrase to myself at times:  "How could it be otherwise?". And the physical reaction was palpable. Low in my abdomen I would feel a release, a letting go. Almost a sigh that said, you are human and that is enough. It was such a freeing feeling that it kind of became a mantra. 

The mind is so funny. If I were to say, "just let go, it does not matter any way", I hold on tighter. But when I say, "how could it be otherwise"—release. I started combining this very earthly idea, with the other idea that I adopted from my sister-in-law. She is a warm-hearted, open-spirited Indian woman. She frequently says "All glory be to God". This to me seemed to be the second part of the equation. We are thinking and trying and acting like the doer. We do this and do that, and carry our actions, but when I combined how could it be otherwise followed by All glory be to God, something magical happened. The power of these words seems to release me (the doer) to become me (the channel), and I feel his Presence. It may be a fleeting moment, but the moment is real. The mantra has the effect, and the manifestation is manifest.

Friday, March 30, 2018

Faith: A Bad Rap


It seems to me faith is something that is mistreated. Faith is mocked, scorned, and ridiculed. One who has a firm, unshakable faith can also be referred to as someone with "a blind faith". It is a funny misnomer in my opinion, because the one with this kind of faith, in fact sees plenty. They see the world of the unseen and acknowledge its truth and its power. They see more, not less. The Bible says, "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed" (John 20:29). Why? What exactly is faith and why are we called to it? It is interesting that those most critical of faith act in faith all the time. We act in faith when we go to bed at night and set our alarm clock. We act in faith when we buy groceries for the week, and we act in faith when we start a college fund. We don't mock these behaviors as childish or superstitious. On the contrary, we exalt these acts as being good and responsible, preparing for that which is ahead—sacrificing in the now in order to assure at least in part, comfort, and stability in the unknown.

There is a world that may not be linear, but it is real and reveals truth—a world that informs us in ways we know, but perhaps cannot yet dance or articulate. We know this to be true when we have an awkward exchange with someone, when we perceive something "off color". Sometimes we just can't quite put our finger on it, but we know with a fullness of our being that it is real. We may try to recite the account to another, telling what the person said, the words that were used, the intonation, their body language, but even all that information might not hold the ultimate key. "I don't know, I can't explain exactly what, but it was off". It is real, it was perceived, yet unexplainable.

There is also the other kind of perception that can be created, maybe not grounded in truth, and yet is real. For example, the woman who is convicted in her own mind that a certain dress is unflattering to her bloated tummy, she is self-conscious and perhaps overly concerned. Perhaps an observer knowing nothing of her personal issue and dissatisfaction, looks at her dress and finds it very pretty. In noticing a lingering glance, she immediately is reaffirmed in her own convictions that the dress is unflattering and that the person who is in actuality admiring, is looking on critically. This is that strange reality, that is not based in truth but yet very real to the person experiencing it. Even if their own perception of the reality or event is false, there is a reality that exists and is real. It is real to that person experiencing it, and therefore it exists.

Faith is a belief and a commitment to a reality that exists, that is perhaps unseen but grounded in truth. Ultimate Truth. It is the objective reality that whether you believe in it or not, it exists, and stands steady. It is a vibrant living reality unchanging in its nature. Whether you perceive it or not, it is there. It is not subjective perception, but ultimate truth, and remaining faithful and convicted in faith is not Pollyanna, it is no easy task. It is not something to be mocked and scorned but rather it is something to be admired. It demands courage and strength. It would be easy to say nothing means anything, there really is no such thing as right and wrong, good and evil, and live life with no responsibility or commitment to something higher than our own selfish desires. That does not mean it will be a joyous, fulfilled life. Most likely it will not be. When God calls us to observe his commandments. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt 11:28). It is ultimately for our own good, although sometimes in our darkened state we do not see it or feel it that way.

We all have a sense of right and wrong, good and evil. Sure, the perimeters around what that means, and what those lines are differ greatly, but the basic intuitive understanding exists, and it is real. Our whole being shouts out at gross injustice and says it is wrong, our soul cries for the wrong to be made right. It does not matter what social mores or governmental pressure is in place, killing millions of Jews for the mere sake of their Jewishness is wrong. It is not a question of what works best for a flourishing society or getting along. Something in us says, wrong. Not because I think it is wrong or because I just don't like it, but because there is an objective truth that is operating and dictating this wrong. It is larger than me or you, it exists and speaks and we know.

Conversely on a beautiful spring day, a clear blue sky, pink flowers blooming, birds chirping, a child laughing and joyfully drinking up the essence of all this beauty, our souls smile and something says this is good, this is right. We know fully there is something good here, not a thought or an opinion, but pure unadulterated good. “God saw that it was good” (Gen. 1:10). Sometimes the voice of truth is clear as a bell, and other times it is subtle and yearning. It is like a sound in the far-off distance that beckons. You cannot fully make out the story, but it is there waiting to unfold. I choose to believe that that deepest part of our being is being informed by something great, something true and ultimately good.

Faith is not just the belief though, it is ultimately the relationship. It is a long-term commitment, and like most long-term commitments requires a lot of nurturing. Spending time, coming back to, having patience, hope, trust, and ultimately love. A love of that which is good, right and true. A love of that which is love itself: “God is love” (I John 4:8). It is the Agape love relationship, walking together day to day, coming back to, drifting slightly. We are the tide to his ocean. Faith is beautiful but not for the faint of heart. It is not blind, but rather all seeing. When nurtured accordingly the garden of faith will bear the most beautiful fruit, and you will be full.

Sunday, March 18, 2018

Absence and Being


I have missed writing. At first, we returned from summer vacation, hectic with life's many demands. Getting readjusted to life at home, and prepared for another school year to begin. Then when I went to write my keyboard went crazy, it had a mind of its own. Adding spaces, capitals at will, changing letters for other letters randomly. There was the trial period, new chargers, different iPad, which would work for a moment and then back to its own double personality. I gave up. It took a short while to purchase another and then it was holiday season. Christmas shopping, travels, family...the clock kept ticking and the time quickly passed.

I started to do a post in January but got cut off. Then more time passed, I was ready to write—dead battery. Sometimes it is our will that drives our actions, and sometimes we become painfully aware of a greater will that has a direction and a purpose, and nothing in our power or will, will change that. Finally, I am back. I have had thoughts come and go. At times they almost made it to paper, and alas the moment was gone. It seems in life there are these precipices, tight ropes, that we need to seize and take action on just at the right moment, find our balance and act. Too much forcing and the joy and spontaneity is gone, too much resting and the impetus vanishes and is lost, like a cloud that forms and passes and is no more.

I thought last summer about the funny incident in our neighborhood to install a little library. How the neighborhood became an uproarious flurry of emails. Did we need it, or not? Was it worth the money? Where to put it? It was strange how this little glorified birdhouse for books became such a contentious issue. It seemed to tie into people’s deepest selves and attachments. It became about education, home, property and money. One woman even likened it to the recent Trump/Clinton election when some decisions were made without a fair vote, but rather a few emails back and forth. Really? The election? People became exasperated, and one particular email that was accidentally sent ended up being my favorite, it said "I have the $250. I am a hero, stop the F%@#@ing! "

It was quickly met with an offense at the offense, and then a response from the original sender explaining a joke. It was a mishap gone wrong—his wife grabbing the phone to stop him from sending did just that. He in fact, never intended on actually sending it. All of this to say, it revealed for me again the complexity of human beings. How something so trite is connected to such deep areas for so many people and created a whole chain of events.

I have been listening to Dr. Jordan Peterson lately, and I like him a lot. He is a professor in Canada who recently became very controversial. I am enjoying a lecture series on the stories of the Bible and their psychological significance. It is fascinating and inspiring. One girl wrote to him and said she did an ayahuasca ceremony, and he came into her vision. When she asked the plants what his purpose was, the response she received was that he was here to share the Divine Masculine with the world, for which there was a need at this time. Interesting. He speaks a lot about this balance between order and chaos, and this resonates with me a lot.

There seems to be this interwoven theme in existence of creativity and unordered consciousness, calling for order and structure in order to become creatively free, but truly free because now it is being sustained by the ordered structure. Christ says: Truly, I say unto you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdome of heaven” (Matt. 18:3). And yet Christ did not come to abolish the law, but rather to fulfill the law (Matt. 5:17). As he came into the world without sin, he was indeed the fulfillment of the law already and from there he turns the status quo upside down and goes beyond the law. However never does he just abolish the law or disregard its necessity. There are times when he shows clear authority of the law. He goes among the sinners and calls them to repentance. He does not just say, “keep doing what you are doing, none of it matters”.

In his call for us to become like children, I think about what this means. There is a difference between childlike—which is rather endearing—and childish which is mostly annoying. But why? Why is a child's innocence and charm grating and frustrating when a certain age is passed and perhaps expectation is not met? Why is an older person who can look at life with a child's joy and curiosity endearing and infectious? It seems there is a subtle and not so subtle distinction at play. It seems to be something like the difference between joy and happiness. A child who gets candy becomes very happy, or a puppy who greets you demonstrates bouncing-off-the-wall happiness. Yet that same child shortly will throw a tantrum at the crash, and the puppy will destroy your newest leather shoes. Joy is different. Joy is more profound. It entails more within it and perhaps more importantly has an enduring quality, not a mercurial spontaneity. Mercurial spontaneity may not lack in charm, but the rollercoaster ride is unlivable, untenable. There seems to be an inevitable price to pay. When I think of an analogy for joy, I think of Bach. Somehow he seems to capture all of life in his pieces. Even the most joyful piece has an element of melancholy, there is a sense of the mundane turning of the day-to-day, and a penetrating unexplainable simultaneous complexity and simplicity. It is essence captured in sound. It is full, and it is Joy.

What is this process that calls us to dive into chaos, pure creativity, the dream, the vision. Then to come out and carefully and meticulously order it, only to set it free, like a kite tethered to our hand yet freely flying in the wind. These small deaths and rebirths creating something new, something of depth, and something enduring. Christ dies the ultimate death on the cross and calls for us to do the same time and time again, the sacrifice, the death, the rebirth to something more—the giving up and away of our lives in order to actually have a life worth living—“Whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 10:39).

I think about beautiful glass work, how even a child could form a melted shape with color that would have allure, but the expert will come, take that charming trinket, rekindle the fire, melt a bit here, reshape a bit there, and out will come the masterpiece. The changes are subtle and yet not so subtle, something of charm becomes something of glory. The light reflects now in just the right places, its brilliance penetrates something unexplainable in words and logic, yet perhaps more real than that which can be explained. It is felt in our being and no explanations are needed.

There seems to be these two planes in life at times, one where nothing matters because it is all futile in a sense. What the material world offers will fade and perish. Our own physical bodies will become dust. The flip side, or other plane is this idea that it all matters and not just a little bit, but greatly. Our actions, our words and down to our very thoughts matters (Matt. 5: 21 ff.). He knows the number of hairs on our heads (Matt. 10:30) and we are here for a purpose.

I am back to the tightrope walking that line between order and chaos. It matters greatly, and not at all. It is out of our hands, yet we are partners with that which is greater, the cosmic dance. I am on a precipice on pointe, yet my toe through the rocks is tethered to the mountain. My hair flies in the wind reaching to the sky. My being is rocked by the breeze and cradled in his wisdom. There is a moment of freedom and bliss, until the chaos and order call, for the next death and rebirth.