Whispers from a Thief

For several months now I have wanted to sit and put fingers to keyboard. Alas, modern life in 2019 with two children and busy schedules has virtually swallowed fall, and here we are just a few weeks from Christmas. Bellies are filled with Thanksgiving feasts now, and the to-do lists are never ending. The tasks are always too many for the short hours in each day that passes so quickly.

I have thought often of this mysterious man on the cross and the message he sends. It is a mysterious whisper spoken to me with the utmost beautiful message. One well worth the time to ponder and explore. The thing that I love so much about this story is the absolute hope and redemptive quality that it illustrates. It does so in such a concise and definitive manner. It is as if it lays heady arguments to rest in one exhalation and breathes life and hope into all of reality.

We may discuss and discourse till we are blue in the face, the whys and wherefore of what is moral, what are ethics, what is sin and why. Sometimes these conversations may be helpful in navigating a certain understanding of an objective reality too large to fully comprehend, but they always seem to lack a certain something one is searching to fill. There seems to be a void that remains, and the conversations may be circular or even combative. But do they ever really accomplish a longing that we seek? It is like trying to organize an overly full closet — as soon as another washcloth is pulled out to use, the refolding begins...we do and we do, we talk and we talk. The vanity is palpable. 

The thief however brings us something fresh. I believe he brings us through Christ that which we truly seek. Who is this blessed being next to Christ on the cross? We are left to our imaginations....was he a petty apple thief? Perhaps, although probably unlikely since we find him on the cross condemned to death. One might assume with a certain amount of certainty that his trespasses were a bit stronger. If they are not though, there is still an interesting message...perhaps about the harshness of the world? Perhaps a shared experience by this lowly thief and the great high Savior of mankind, strategically placed side by side.....kind of funny to think about.

What if he is the worst kind of criminal? What if fate gave this poor man what would seem a miserable lot in life? Maybe he was a fatherless child who from a young age stole to help his mother and siblings to survive? What if he was the very darkest character one could imagine ... a life of poverty, living in a constant state of fight and flight. Maybe drinking at a tavern to gain fearlessness, running off without paying his bill, finding a widow’s home to use her to satisfy his carnal urges, only to dispose of her afterward and take the cash and jewels. He would then run to the next town unknown, use up his spoils and then plot his next conquest.

It might be that when he was caught and condemned to his fate, he actually sighed a sigh of relief, knowing full well he was deserving of the worst kind of punishment and being finally able to let go of this constant fight for life. Was it a state of exhaustion and a giving up of himself that allowed him to view Christ with such clarity, that others in his midst could not?

Then Christ's most beautiful and powerful message, to the thief and to us all. "Truly I say to you today you will see me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43). Wow, how breathtaking and exhilarating. How could he be forgiven so fully and completely? It seems to me that alone could be a testament to Christ's nature, in some ways so unlike ours. No time needed to heal, to process the wrong doings, weighing his fate with circumstance, finding justifications ... no ‘yes I forgive you now, and you will have one year hereafter to prove that you have indeed changed your horrid ways’. No, this is not what is said, but rather: you have seen the Truth in an instant Mr. Thief and that is enough for eternal Paradise'.

The message I hear through this interchange is, no matter before dear child, no matter after dear child; right here, right now, I am available to ALL. Yes, All are indeed invited to the table to partake, there is no argument here, it is already a done deal. We may not even know the extent of our own before. We may well be blind by our own deceptions and the narrative we tell ourselves. The one we are able to handle at this moment. We certainly do not know the extent of our afters, but we can know without a doubt here and now what is available. This is Grace, saving grace, undeserved and unearned yet fully available.

Life in 3-D

So the other day in Paris I was walking in the Park Montsouris. I was there for my grandfather's funeral. It was a busy time. The funeral service was beautiful. The priest had a luminosity about him and spoke a message that all could hear and understand. It was full of depth and truth for the practicing believer, yet open and accessible for the person who may never have embraced religion or for that matter a spiritual practice. I loved him for his message and the potential truth he brought forth. No politics, no bias, no putting others down to make his own convictions seem more worthy. Just truth and love, and the gospel ideas illuminated for all to witness and absorb. I felt grateful walking through the park, it was a beautiful day. I had the sense of seeing the trees and their shimmering leaves with a fullness and satisfaction. The shimmer of God himself singing to me through his creation.

Then the thought occurred to me about the shift in my being in those moments after prayer and meditation. It is as though life which presents itself much of the time in 2-D, suddenly shifts to 3- D. There is a wholeness to reality. You can see it with your eyes, feel it with your body and immerse in it in the completeness of Being. Much of the time we are circling in a tornado of thoughts and ideas. We are driven by doing and accomplishing. We rush from one task to the next feeling so powerful. The more we check of our to-do's the better. Then when we have no more steam, we collapse. Our power is burned out till rest and morning coffee. Other times we are immersed in our emotions feeling the sorrow of things lost, or broken. The joy of a new acquisition or a good meal, maybe a satisfying conversation. We either want the emotion to be gone, or be prolonged. We know in our heart of hearts that that is illusion—the emotion will collapse and make way for the next desire, emotion or activity at hand.

What is that funny thing that takes place after meditation and prayer, a spiritual ritual or practice? It seems there is a cohesion of sorts, the activity is calmed and the emotions are still. "Be still and know that I am God". And there you are....no doing or feeling. Just being. Basked in Him, all is whole, all is Perfect "Be ye therefore perfect even as the Father". Life in 2-D has shifted to life in 3-D. Could it be that this is actually where life is meant to be lived? Could this be the true meaning of "Loving the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and mind"....Is this the one pointedness that Yoga aims to guide us toward? I think so.

What is it about 3's? Obviously an important number in understanding our Father, through his son and the Holy Spirit, three in ONE. They say the physical body likes things in threes, and as a therapist once said, "the body does not lie". This whole thought process brought me to another place. We are mind, body and spirit. Also three in one. Why then do people so readily dismiss the spirit aspect of the equation? It is a mystery, really, and a rather strange phenomenon. Here is the key which unlocks the mystery of being, the last clue to experience life in 3-D, and yet it takes the backseat, or no seat, when perhaps it is actually meant to be the driver. 

We take pains for the physical body. We are told it needs nourishment to survive, and so we take from creation and give to our bodies. The body likes activity, so we do activity, sport, dance. The world rejoices in a beautifully sculpted body bearing the fruits of many moons of training. We ooh and ahh at a dancer’s form and physique or the strength of a marathoner. We recognize the importance of the care that was put in, and admire those who have done so diligently and well. Great minds like to think, to discover, to invent and create. We admire those who have high degrees and big accomplishments. We encourage education, thoughtful thinking and reasoning. And yet....so many who care deeply about the former two, seem to let the third aspect of our being go by the wayside, or have no care whatsoever. My father once told me he learned in college about the metaphysical aspects of our being, that there is an inherent desire in human beings for the metaphysical—hence the creation of religion, spiritual practices, etc. That is all well and good. One can come to an intellectual understanding that man has a metaphysical desire, and therefore creations and activities which help to satisfy that desire. Why then does the logic follow in this particular realm of our being that because we understand, we can now dismiss as irrelevant and unimportant?

We understand that man needs nourishment, so we nourish, we understand that the mind needs stimulation so we stimulate. And yet here we are once —we have a metaphysical need, we understand, so we ignore and discard. Strange isn't it? It seems people are ready to dismiss spirit so easily, maybe for a logical incoherence, perhaps, an aspect of an idea that isn't immediately pleasant or doesn't gel with one's feelings. Many people dismiss spirit because as a child it seemed appealing but as an adult no longer. As though education and life experience has made them too wise for the infinite wisdom that passes all understanding. We are asked to become like children, not to stay as a child, but rather become like children. What does this mean? “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways” (1. Cor. 13: 11). 

Maybe there is something in adulthood and becoming wise to the world that risks stopping the evolution of a person's spirit, and the call is to surmount these pitfalls in order to once again become like children. We are called to be in the world but not of the world—a call not to stop because of intellectual pride or childish emotions that one clings to, but a call to die to what was before in order to be reborn into infinite intelligence that goes beyond logic, beyond emotion. That which illumines something more, something unexplainable and incomprehensible, but real and tangible nonetheless. We are called not to remain stagnant in emotion or to become brittle in cold hard logic but rather fuse these 2-D's of life into a harmonious whole 3-d experience? ft5ygMaybe, just maybe life in 3-D, unity with the three in one is what it is actually all about.

The Diversity Division

So the other morning Calvin and I were talking over coffee. He began to tell me about a colleague of his who has a daughter getting ready to head off to college. Calvin's colleague is a white woman who is married to a black man, so their daughter is biracial but identifies as African American. This woman proceeded to tell Calvin that her daughter had decided to go into an all black dormitory. Apparently this is now a fairly common thing on campuses. As well as all black cafes or other "safe spaces".

Calvin mentioned how strange this seems in 2020. I had to admit, I agreed and actually thought it is a bit sad. After all the civil rights fights—the deaths and martyrs for the cause of eliminating segregation and esteeming equality—here we are back to segregation, albeit by choice. I wonder what MLK would think? I wonder what Jesus would think... Paul says in Christ there is no male or female, no Gentile or Jew. All are one in Christ Jesus.

The other day at church the sermon started out like this: "I am a white, female, cisgendered, heterosexual, educated, upper white class person..." Wow, I thought to myself, that certainly is a lot of labels!! She went on to preach on her white privilege soapbox, and of the necessity and responsibility of those like her to help those less fortunate. While no one would argue that those with more fortune should incline themselves as Christians to help others with less, I think the key word here is Christians.

Paul says in Christ there is no male or female, no Gentile or Jew. All are one in Christ Jesus. Why then so many separating labels? Christ's own message seems to be doing just the opposite. Tearing down labels in order to unify. I thought to myself, white people are broken too, some are victims of sexual abuse, stuck in addiction, from broken homes, abused—the list goes on.

All beings suffer the human condition, white or not. All human beings are sinners, yet in Him our guilt is lifted, he has died for our sins that we may be born in Him. So why are we being told to feel guilty and obliged because of the color of our skin, stature of our birth, or other above-named details? 

It all just seems so counterintuitive and counter Christian. It also seems to me almost proud, as if somehow by acknowledging some categorical privilege I may have been born into, I can alleviate my natural sense of guilt and become for those of lesser social stature (in any given category) their surrogate savior on earth—all the while convincing myself of some sort of moral superiority because I acknowledge my privilege and take personal responsibility.

It seems to me these false notions are the very thing we are called to die to. A sense of our own righteousness, or power even to do things of our own accord. Should we not meet another, any other as our equal brother or sister in Christ Jesus? Might any one of these not-so-pristine categories have something of equal or greater value to offer than we may have to offer them?

What if we approached the other, any other, not with a sense of alleviating guilt and doing our moral duty, but rather with love from one human being to another. Would that not be more gratifying, satisfying and pure for all involved rather that approaching the other with a man made preordained duty?

I am not convinced that forced diversity creates unity. It seems by the choice of the young college-student-to-be, that perhaps it does the very opposite. The more labels, the more separation. And then we look to be with those whose labels match ours. Christ's message is not of diversity but rather of our unity in Him—a true equality I believe creates equanimity. I honor you because you are a child of God made in his image, I see us as one in him, no better no worse, just one in him. Period, the end.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!