Sunday in Petersburg

I talked to my friend today. She is struggling. Her mom died two years ago. They were besties as mom’s can be. The love of her life left her and was married soon after. She lost her dog, and now her father is dying. I feel her pain, and yet I don’t. My parents are alive and well, even my grandmother. My life is full with children and dogs, even a healthy 15 year old malti-poo.

My husband is the bomb. Wow, life is weird and God is complicated. I talk, I listen, I engage. I know she needs this space, and I am that room. I have experienced loss, but not so close. My loss in general seemed to fall in the right order — those who have lived long and full lives who have come to the end of their road. There was Jonathan, and that was tough and unexpected. Still, not the same. It seems different than losing a parent, on the young side, at least in modern terms.

I do feel her pain, because she is my friend and I love her, but I can never fully understand the depth of feeling that all these life changes are bringing her. I share her moment as that is what there is to do, what is needed, and where God has placed me.

My Soren sings cheerily in the background as I write. This AM, he serenaded me before school with an “I love mommy” song. I know I need to cherish these moments, and pray he will not be a teenager that hates his parents. I think for the zillionth time, we really need to get that kid in music classes. Where am I going with any of this anyway?

So I came down to let the dog in; now I am half pajama / half-blouse, and feeling too tired to deal with any of it, let alone dental hygiene. But I will get there, God willing in time, after a little writing.Tomorrow is yoga, then the State fair. My anxiety is high, teaching two classes and then singing solo Sunday. I live in a two fold trauma — a catch twenty-two, which laughs as I suffer. Stuff to do means anxiety; no stuff to do means I count the hours. What to do?

I create a routine, something physical, something spiritual, (practice) home, kids, animals, life in my midst. God says that's where it is, so that is where I go. I am preparing for a concert in February, all music theater. It’s so low; my voice is so different than in opera there. New territory, yet old hat, my roots. New and old. Hmmm, wish I felt bold.

So I finally decided to commit to posting, even if I am not sure exactly what my point is. I will post if it is too much or not enough. I will post. God has another plan — my posts won’t post, or rather, they won’t send once they are posted. We don’t know why, what happened, what changed. Something did change though, both inside me and with the mystery of computers which have a mind of their own.

Life is good — routine, predictability with the occasional unusual or new thrown in. Singing at the historic Robert E. Lee church was fun and went well. I was told by one person she was "starstruck" the minute I began to sing. I honestly think that may be one of my all time favorite compliments. Another woman took a video, and so I sang to her, because why not. I mean, she was filming. I amped up the expression and gave the fullness of the text to my heart. I sang Panis Angelicus, but an English version. Oh Lord most Merciful, Oh Lord Most Bountiful, Lord of heaven and earth. Yes, it all felt so genuine so true. This lovely lady presented me with a beautiful bouquet of flowers after the service.

Aside from all this beauty, it was truly a strange service. The congregation is dwindling. There were maybe twenty people. We were there because they lost their organist recently to another church. I know Charles well, and he was a gift beyond measure for many years. I can understand why he went to a better job, a more promising future. The interim preacher was preaching and it was actually his last day. The sermon was puzzling. It was a goodbye and an admission of being old and being tired. I guess that would be awkward enough, but he went on to basically say how he had drawers of sermons he now found useless and decided to throw away. He seemed to say he was throwing away his religiosity at this stage in the game.

Somehow it all seemed futile now, but what mattered was this moment. The magic that happens in the moment, in the space. The unpredictable energy that a moment in time brings. I like and resonate with that idea. The other part frankly seemed a bit sad. What has caused this man to lose so much faith at the end of his career that the rest no longer matters? There was not much about the gospel reading with Lazarus, except a general idea that Jesus shows us a mirror to ourselves. He mentioned that he shows us our own glory that we do not necessarily see. Almost like he shows us the potential of all that is good and he already sees that in us. I like this idea and can see his point. But Jesus also holds the mirror and some sharp words at times to the other side too, to the parts of us that are not so pretty. I wonder if some of this man's despondency has to do with a one-sided perspective. Only focusing on the love of Jesus and not the hard job of repenting of the not-so-lovely parts.

Can it be when we water something down to make it more pleasing, and ignore the complete balance, something is lost? At first, maybe it gels with our desire for empathy and compassion; but does it lack the backbone to really sustain us? The deepest parts of us can know the Christ within us and still be very much in touch with a fallen nature. It seems if we only look at one angle, we miss the fullness, and this watered-down version no longer can sustain faith when the going gets tough.

I can't say for sure why this priest seemed so disillusioned at this stage in his life. However, I can say this is not the first time I witnessed something like this. Another priest comes to mind who every week sounded as though his faith was more confused and more in question than the last week. He too held to what I would call a watered-down, lovely version of Jesus, without any of the hard commands. We are called to die to our former selves and be reborn — Not to just accept the warm fuzzy love without giving anything up. So that is my two cents on that.

On an up-note, I convinced Soren to join a boys choir where he will learn to read music and proper singing (OK, so I bribed him three dollars each time he goes, but he agreed). So I feel like I conquered. Finally I am getting this lovely little singer into some music lessons. A little bribery never hurts when it is for a good outcome. That is what I am telling myself anyway.

Breaking the Chains

I have not written for ages. Okay, not true — I have written a lot. But none of it worthy, finished, edited.

Follow-through? Not only, lacking enough, being too something and not enough of something else. Mundane with the spiritual, only the spiritual is split for the moment, then back again, from the mundane. Finding a new voice, a second chance (in spiritual terms — repentance), a do-over. So sweet. I start afresh.

What am I saying? To whom am I speaking? What matters most? The Holy, the Truth, so bold and so true. Poetry in motion. Yet, today meditation was a chore, when I got to prayer, thanks to meditation, I was grateful for the practice, for the tradition, wisdom in tradition. Brought about Grace, my prayers are routine, yet faithful and effective, sometimes repetitive, and maybe that's the point. I close with the Lord's Prayer,  in the middle comes repentance. I ask for the Lord's mercy, and then envision a white light moving from the crown of my head to the base of my spine, down to my toes. I literally bathe myself in the Lord's perfect, white-blue light. His mercy, His forgiveness. 

So that works for me. Sometimes I open with chanting Himalayan prayers, then mala, but not always. Sometimes I prefer to be in the presence of God's Creation, practicing outside in nature. Hearing his creatures chirp and sing. I sit on the rocking chair on the front porch, and think, it's true: I am officially old, in my rocking chair on the porch!  Then I do just the mala, since the prayers I play with the phone. The truth is, practice is work, yet it is a daily reminder of that which by our nature, without effort on our part, escapes us, although it is actually our deepest longing. So ironic.

I am teaching yoga again. It is good, very challenging and rewarding. I was asked to step in. I see the things that we are asked to do in our lives as God's will in action. So I responded yes, and am so enjoying it in a new way. Particularly being in the studio again, hands-on and with dedicated students that I have known for years. I tear as I write this because it is just so beautiful. And different. Something inside has been transformed by the Holy Spirit in this process. These little changes that bring joy and gratification in this season of life. I have a true teenager, taller than me and a seven year old. Two blessings beyond measure. A beautiful Christian husband and father, a home, food, lovely life. I do not attribute my good fortune to merit, and I am so blessed, and humbled, for the poor, the needy.

But we are called to act where we are with the people in our midst. So I try to live this out in the ways I can. One of my students, David, told me about a food shelter where he volunteers. I may look into that too. I did that at our old church downtown. Feeding and spending time with the truly needy I found rewarding. I enjoyed the people I met, and hearing their perspectives. I enjoyed seeing their familiar faces and getting to know their spirits. We went back to our home church during Covid, and have stayed. I sing there again, so that is nice, although this week Calvin is playing for a historic church in Petersburg (Robert E. Lee's old church), and I will sing Panis Angelicus. 

So practice, sung prayers, mala, Christian traditional prayers, ending with Lord's Prayer, and one Ohm Shanti (Peace) to all. Sometimes it flows, sometimes it's easy, sometimes its work, labor, effort, grit. But it's worth it, and reminds me what it all is worth.

So this post will be posted, edited, and finished. It may be too much, or not enough, but I accept it is what it is. This is my season now; do it anyway and so be it.

The Lord's Prayer

The Lord’s prayer is such a complete and yet mysterious prayer. I feel trepidation even approaching such a lofty prayer, the sacred of sacred, personally handed to us by our Savior. Yet, billions of Christians feel drawn, rightly so, to this prayer that Christ gave us.I end my meditations and daily prayers with the Lord’s prayer. It feels complete and the perfect closing to end with each day. 

One thing I personally love about this prayer is that it speaks to so many levels and parts of our own being. Sometimes, I have envisioned it as going through the chakras, starting with the basic invitation to Our Father, who is so much greater than we are, and to whom we can express our reverence in His hallowed name.Then there is the giving up or emptying of our own being, handing our finite wisdom over to infinite wisdom — “Thy will be done”. 

There is the foundational place, or first chakra, of asking simply for our basic material needs, our daily bread. I feel the prayer moving into my mid section as I say “forgive us our tresspasses”. I liken this to the second chakra and third chakra, where action begins to come forth from our being. The mid center where when someone does trespass against us it is almost as “punch to the gut”. In these words we release that space in our being, to not hold onto our own volition, nor that which may confront us. 

Next I feel the prayer move to the heart — “Lead us not into temptation”. This feels like a heart examination: the heart can inform, and be pure in intention, and yet the same heart can twist, turn, and deceive when discernment is not carefully examined. Asking for aid here seems a good thing to do. Perhaps it is reassuring to know that we have help in this area that can be a trickster if we are not careful.

The next phrase “deliver us from evil” for me moves into my throat. I proclaim this powerful idea, and yet don’t know exactly what it means. What exactly is this evil? Is it different evils for different people, or one big category of evil to be avoided at all costs?

Next, the  prayer moves to my head, my mind, closer to the heavens as I declare boldly, “Thine is the power, the kingdom and glory forever and ever.” 

The prayer seems to move through the body, going from the earthly realms to the heavenly realms. What remains though is still a mystery. Trying to understand exactly how this deliverance takes place and what exactly happens in the realm of the unseen is beyond our reason, and yet we come back to this prayer in confidence, knowing its power even if understanding it fully remains hidden, as it were, in a veil. 

The Lord’s prayer almost contains the Christian experience within it. We ask in confidence knowing we will receive; we pray knowing we are heard. Still, exactly how these things happen remains unclear. Is it really that simple that we do the practice and we know the fruits? As with faith, this seems to be the formula: do now, understand later, not through the intellect but through the held experience. It is a beautiful and mysterious power this prayer holds. 

I know that different people have a different relationship to this prayer, but there is no doubt that people do have both a desire towards and a relationship with this prayer. Even the children rejoice in it as a prayer they can memorize fairly easily and recite in fellowship with other practitioners.

Just another perfect mystery from our Savior leading the way in perfection and speaking to the many through this one prayer — this prayer that unites in our beliefs and yet can be so deeply personal to the individual.

The Day After

Sitting outside, the day after. Nelly’s service was beautiful. Powerful and perfect. People were spiritually touched and moved. 

Remembering and celebrating  someone so special and all their myriad talents and facets brings us all into a communion of fellowship. As we celebrate one life, we are guided to Life itself.

We connect to Source, God, One. Reflecting on life and death and how it all flows continuously. The seasons change and return. We recognize the signs of the imminent changes. The feeling of snow right before it falls. The first crisp energizing energy of fall. The lazy summer days and the first signs of spring.

The indescribable essence we know and learn to call by name in order to understand more deeply.

The Perfect knowledge lies in the mystery and acceptance of the unknown. The surrender. The logical, rational mind will analyze, name and categorize so the greatness can be broken into bite-sized pieces to be digested. The food of the spirit which begins to fill and transform the profound, subtle aspects which guide and dictate so much of our lives.

The breath that leads to the center where no words lie.

The stillness where He resides and we meet him.

  

Religion Gone Awry

It seems my religious instinct was operating from an early age. I remember being curious and inquisitive about these things, asking my Christian grandmother her perspective. I befriended another little girl in the complex where my grandparents resided. Her name was Tammy, and she stayed with her auntie Ruth. They used to invite me to church with them and then we would go out for pancake breakfasts. I cherished those times and was a more-than willing participant. 

Jordan Peterson, Canadian  psychiatrist and scholar, says, "The religious instinct, not properly channeled, goes awry." This can happen to even the sincerest seekers, but I feel now in the world I see this happening in an unprecedented way. People who have outright rejected God and religion with a vengeance, have taken to moral high grounds and authoritarianism with the harshest of terms. Agree and adopt our value system, obey, or you are cancelled. We will go to extremes to publicly shame you, take away your vocation, and harass your family. 

One of the great ironies is that one of the complaints commonly voiced in regards to the rejection of God or religion is this perceived list of rules to which man must adhere and the judgements that follow. Of course, when understood properly, God's commands are not for Him. God needs nothing from us, and remains in a state of loving forgiveness, ready to receive us when we turn to Him. He truly desires our good. Our innate knowledge of those goods play out in our own conscience: when we follow God's commands, our best interest is at heart, and our highest potential can be achieved. We do not have to run and hide from our own being. Conversely, when we follow merely our own desires and emotions, things will inevitably turn out less than stellar. 

The mind is capable of justifying just about anything. It is almost astounding the level of self-deception a mind can create in order to maintain a sense of its own righteousness. The deeper parts of our being always knows the Truth and sees the lie. You can run, but you can never really hide. God knows and sees the deepest aspects of our heart and mind, and we know it too, even when we deny that very knowing.

We cherish our free will, and rightly so, but we have to aim to guide our freewill for our good. God's commands lead us to that place. Being fallen, we will fail, and fall. That is when we humble ourselves in repentance and aim once again to follow his will. We can have the assurance that even as we fail, we are loved, and worthy of love. We are asked to give up our lives, not for something worse, a prison of rules and judgements, rather for something better — the best version of ourselves, with a conscience that is not in hiding but in resting, resting in humble submission to that which is truly right and good. 

As I reflect on my journey I realize a pitfall in which I fell and see many Christians fall. Jesus was compassion and mercy, humble in all things. He was not too proud to fall to his knees and wash his disciples feet, the same disciples who often misunderstood his teachings and ultimately betrayed him.

One thing Jesus was not, was overly passive or fearful. As he was perfect Love, fear was cast out. He was  indeed the Prince of Peace, but not in exchange for the forsaking of Truth. I think for a long time I sought to be peaceful at all costs, to always try to choose the path of love, mercy and forgiveness. Of course, I failed time and again. More recently, I realized my aim was awry. In the end these behaviors often led to feelings of being under appreciated, misunderstood, or downright used and abused. In my mind I couched these behaviors as somehow being the moral/spiritual high ground. The truth is more complex, as is usually the case. Yes, these are good things in and of themselves, absolutely things we are called to aim for, but not only. These ideas were safe and comforting, did not ruffle any feathers....until they did, usually after the fact, when I dealt with the backlash of undesirable feelings. Then I would wrestle with the feelings, trying to eradicate them with forgiveness for the other. Anyone who has tried to forgive knows it is a process, sometimes a very long one. We think we have forgiven, only to be brutally reminded in a moment of triggering how little we have actually forgiven.

The world is not a peaceful place. It is filled with the worst manner of sin — lies, deceptions, jealousy, anger, hatred, greed...the list goes on. What I was not exercising by facing the world in these holier-than-thou approaches of peace-at-all-costs, was my own fear. Fear of rejection, fear of not being liked, fear of "stirring the pot", fear of sitting in uncomfortable emotions, my own or another's. I was not able to trust the process of being honest in truth and knowing that was enough. The end result was I was denying Jesus in his fullness and denying myself.

The Truth hurts. The Truth pierces like a two edged sword. Sometimes not speaking in truth to avoid conflict or an unpleasant situation can cause much greater harm and demise in the long run. Jesus did not needlessly rebel against society or hierarchal structures to gain attention or tear something down. He did not act this way in an addictive adrenaline rush from the exhilaration of conflict. He did so in Truth. He was not afraid to show the Pharisees their hypocrisy or to overturn the money changers in the temple for making the house of the Lord a den of thieves. He spoke and acted both in Truth and courage as well as mercy and compassion. Ultimately his Truth was too much for people to handle, and it sealed  his fate. Even so, he was not afraid to live out his purpose. Every action in his life was in submission to God's sovereign plan and will. His Truth in action led to influence and saved untold numbers of people and continues to do so two thousand plus years later. 

All of our daily interactions and decisions take discernment, but now I feel a new sense of resolve in 2022. I will no longer walk in fear. I will speak the Truth where I am able and walk simultaneously in Love and mercy. I will no longer sacrifice one for the other. The price to pay is too high, it is sacrificing  the fullness of ones own soul.

The culture in the world right now is a testament to its own circular demise. The modern social fabric based outside of God's laws are rooted in a house divided. A house divided can not stand.