Openness

Taken Altogether…

Stepping out and looking up, the night time sky awakens me. Alongside the darkness, the clouds, visible above and behind the tree tops, create a contrast that draws me in. Between them and the sky that is speckled with the light of stars from far away, the scene is even more compelling. There are so many dimensions, and on this night, as opposed to one where the clouds leave no room for the stars, all seem to bring something to the picture in a way that works together and makes it whole.

So much of what’s good and honorable in the world, is not unlike this scene. That is, the parts not only brought together, but also taking care to make room at the table, and in our hearts, for each other. Coming back to the night time sky on this evening, taking in its different parts once more, I imagine each of them embodying, “Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will” (Psalm 40). For although we are different, we are very much the same. And, our well-being and the picture that we make is collective—always tied together.

As Martin Luther King, Jr. Day approaches, thank you Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. for standing up and speaking out, for your words and the actions that flowed with them, and most of all, for the spirit with which you shared them with the world.

“In a real sense all life is inter-related. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be… This is the inter-related structure of reality.” – Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Hidden in a Catalog…

Each year as Christmas approaches, I fondly recall a childhood ritual of time spent with a couple of my siblings, huddled around a department store’s holiday edition catalog. The three of us would look at what seemed like endless pages of different games and toys, dreaming of what it would be like to call them our own. At the same time though, we knew that was not going to happen.

Still, each year, we would come together, at the kitchen table or lying on our stomachs on the rug in the family room, captivated by the pictures and descriptions. We were all on, or around, the same page, and not a page was turned until all three of us were ready to move on. Of course, sometimes, we would negotiate and come back to particular page or skip ahead to a different section, but always, we stayed together.

It’s interesting what sharing, can bring to a situation. Although my older sister, younger brother, and I were frequently drawn to different games or toys, we were consistently drawn together. Over the years, the experience of sharing our time with each other as well as our excitement and interest… hopes and dreams, made it seem like anything was possible in the sacred space we shared. 

This year, in a pandemic ridden world, where space is better not shared, perhaps another kind of invitation lies in waiting—a bridge of sorts. Maybe a chance to find that which has been overlooked, or what might otherwise be lost. An opportunity to remember or to see more than what we think we know. 

As a child looking at those pages of games and toys, I thought it was the catalog that brought such great excitement. However, while it was intriguing back then, now I understand it differently. So often, time and distance can bring perspective in a way that reveals truth or deeper understanding of any matter.      

On the 3rd Sunday of Advent, a time of waiting and reflecting, we read in the Gospel according to John that John the Baptist said, “…there is one among you whom you do not recognize…” (John 1:26-27), to the priests and Levites sent to question him. He was speaking of Jesus. Yet, we know that even today, there are moments where each of us can say to ourselves, “there is one among you whom you do not recognize.” Whether it is a person, place, or thing, when we think of it, how do we speak of, and to, Jesus?

A man named John was sent from God.
He came for testimony, to testify to the light,
so that all might believe through him.
He was not the light,
but came to testify to the light.

And this is the testimony of John.
When the Jews from Jerusalem sent priests
and Levites to him
to ask him, “Who are you?”
He admitted and did not deny it,
but admitted, “I am not the Christ.”
So they asked him,
“What are you then? Are you Elijah?”
And he said, “I am not.”
“Are you the Prophet?”
He answered, “No.”
So they said to him,
“Who are you, so we can give an answer to those who sent us?
What do you have to say for yourself?”
He said:
“I am the voice of one crying out in the desert,
‘make straight the way of the Lord,’”
as Isaiah the prophet said.”
Some Pharisees were also sent.
They asked him,
“Why then do you baptize
if you are not the Christ or Elijah or the Prophet?”
John answered them,
“I baptize with water;
but there is one among you whom you do not recognize,
the one who is coming after me,
whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie.”
This happened in Bethany across the Jordan,
where John was baptizing. – John 1:6-8, 19-28          

The Hardest Part…

Feeling hopeful, I am lifted up by the soothing breeze, and welcomed by the warmth of the sun. I am drawn to the light stretching out from it, as if reaching out to everyone and all around the globe. Still, I wait, as many do. So much of life these days seems to be more about waiting, and then waiting even more. I can’t help but think, this much waiting is such a tall order, compared to the short and quick of yesteryear.

Yet, day in and day out, I wait. We all wait. Maybe we’ve been waiting all along. Maybe we wait because we’ve gotten it all wrong.

Then there’s also the companion of waiting. As each moment in waiting silently builds upon the next, some grow closer together and others drift further apart. Yet, despite the weight of waiting, and the rush against the quiet, when willing, the Light above connects us to the Breath that’s deep within.

One with one another. Created in God’s image. One with one and all. The cry of God is deafening, when will we heed the call?

“Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.” – John 15:4

In the Leaves…

On a beautiful November day, unexpected warmth saturates the air alongside the noise of rustling leaves, as they are gathered and removed from around the yard. While it is far more idyllic to sit in a much quieter way, with an image… a nearby scene that captures fall inching its way to winter, there is work to be done. 

Taking a breath and looking at the leaves, they spread across the lawn, front, side, and back. Another breath, then, at last, the process begins a mess. Making something out of what appears to be nothing or perhaps better said, gathering what is separate and bringing it together. What starts as commotion with each swing of the rake, gradually, slowly turns around. Still leaves… still motion… but nestled now in the stillness of devotion.

A great reminder, the dreams for which one hopes do not fade away. Though the pursuit of them may be on pause, it is often in our patient seeking, Wisdom makes her way, work increases, and True desires deepen.

“Respect your ideals. Dare to dream, but be not an idle dreamer.
Dare to do what you dream. Search your heart to know what you most desire to do; then do it, for you can become, by your perseverance, what you long to be.” – Samuel Silas Curry

More than the Frame…

Walking along a path in a local town forest, I stop as I approach a swampy stretch and see a beautiful mix of colors on the land across the way. The trees and brush on either side in front of me seem to provide a frame. Depending on the angle, or perhaps the time of day, or maybe even, the mood drifting through the air, they are a welcome addition gradually drawing me in to the beauty just beyond. Or, are they a distraction… a tangled mess standing in the way?

It’s interesting the way that so much in life seems to do with frames. Thinking literally of frames, I recall the first time I had to pick a frame for a pair of eyeglasses. I was 12 at the time, and desperately not wanting to need eyeglasses. But the fact was that I did need them.

So, after an eye exam and trying on a number of frames, different styles, colors, and types, I came upon “the one.” It was unmistakable within seconds of placing them on my face. From there, the transition was smooth; I could see clearly. Since that time, I have gone through a number of frames, of different styles, colors, and types, throughout the years. And, in all that time, the single most important thing about my glasses has been, not the frame, but the lenses. Without them, everything is blurry.

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees,
they gathered together, and one of them,
a scholar of the law tested him by asking,
“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”
He said to him,
“You shall love the Lord, your God,
with all your heart,
with all your soul,
and with all your mind.
This is the greatest and the first commandment.
The second is like it:
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.”

– Matthew 22:34-40

Guesting…

Entering the wooded path to explore a new place, it seems easy to regard myself as a guest. As such, I am perhaps more mindful (or respectful), and probably more open to appreciating in some way, what lies before me. So often in nature, whether the outdoor or indoor (human kind), the tendency is to see or to remember with greater ease, the extremes. However, in actuality, the majority of what transpires is in between. And in those rare times, when it isn’t, still, nothing is lost, or without value, for the faithful guest who travels with an honest, open heart.

“If God created shadows it was to better emphasise the light.” ― Pope Saint John XXIII

When it comes down to it, although it may be preferred to be the host, across the board and back, the greater good is most often served in the moments of realizing, that we are indeed, the guest.

I shall live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life. – Psalm 23

From “the greater good” search results of some fellow guests during my lifetime, Presidents 37 through 45…

Remember, always give your best. Never get discouraged. Never be petty. Always remember, others may hate you. But those who hate you don’t win unless you hate them. And then you destroy yourself. – Richard Nixon

I have always believed that most people are mostly good, most of the time. I have never mistaken moderation for weakness, nor civility for surrender. As far as I’m concerned, there are no enemies in politics – just temporary opponents who might vote with you on the next Roll Call. – Gerald Ford

We have a tendency to condemn people who are different from us, to define their sins as paramount and our own sinfulness as being insignificant. – Jimmy Carter

Peace is not absence of conflict, it is the ability to handle conflict by peaceful means. – Ronald Reagan                                       

I take as my guide the hope of a saint: In crucial things, unity; in important things, diversity; in all things, generosity. – George H.W. Bush

We all do better when we work together. Our differences do matter, but our common humanity matters more. – Bill Clinton

Use power to help people. For we are given power not to advance our own purposes nor to make a great show in the world, nor a name. There is but one just use of power and it is to serve people. – George W. Bush

All of us share this world for but a brief moment in time. The question is whether we spend that time focused on what pushes us apart, or whether we commit ourselves to an effort — a sustained effort — to find common ground, to focus on the future we seek for our children, and to respect the dignity of all human beings.  – Barack Obama

When you open your heart to patriotism, there is no room for prejudice. The Bible tells us, ‘How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity.’ – Donald Trump

“If God created shadows it was to better emphasise the light.” ― Pope Saint John XXIII

Play it again…

Here and there throughout the years, a woodpecker or two take a liking to the backyard, and then the shed, or even sometimes the house. At that point, paths tangled, it becomes CD time. And so, with fishing line, one by one, the ornaments are hung in hopes of protecting the outside of the shed and house.

Initially, as the CDs inflect, reflect, and deflect the rays of light that shine their way throughout the day, they deter not only the woodpeckers, but also the cardinals, robins, and blue jays that are normally here. However, after a week or so, thankfully, the others seem to remember, or become aware of what is going on, and they return home. Then, looking out from the inside, the backyard is back to the more typical flutter of more inspiring activity.  

It is interesting how, whether inside or out, day or night, there is the shimmering of Light, sometimes brighter or more noticeable. Always present though. And, while it drives away some, it draws in others.

Inflecting… reflecting… deflecting… resonating life. Calling to one, calling to all, trust… believe… stay the Path.

The LORD is near to all who call upon him,
to all who call upon him in truth. – Psalm 145:18

Wag This Way…

A couple of summers ago, while visiting family, we decided to go out for ice cream. As we opened the back door of the mini-van, immediately, and with great enthusiasm, the dog jumped in, and was ready to go. Unfortunately, the dog could not come with us, and needed to be escorted back out of the vehicle. As disappointed as he seemed though, when we got back to the house, his excitement upon our reuniting was as if his disappointment or hopes dashed prior to our departure, had never occurred.   

It is interesting how dogs, act and react, especially when they are excited. Perhaps, jumping and bouncing, running back and forth, and/or wagging their tails furiously at the approach of a favorite treat or as a loved one returns home. Then there are the other times, when they might plant their paws and growl, preparing to resist, attack, or defend against something non-preferred, or a threat perceived. Regardless of the situation though, what is often most striking is the capacity of dogs to love without abandon.

Moving from wagging tails to wagging fingers, there is the human frailty that causes hearts to bruise, egos to rouse, and hurt to linger. This, all the while, the silent plea, “Come now. Come down off your high horse,” echoes deep within. But, which will win?

Sometimes, it’s time to stop stopping. Stop standing still. When stubborn, yet again, the wagging, it begins. There it is. Getting in the way, determined to carry on, refusing to give in.

At what cost?

So many things, taking up space, too tightly held. How can the space between us do anything, but swell? Wider it becomes… bigger… stronger… bolder it grows. Drifting… fading… falling, tell me, what is so appalling?

One can’t help but wonder, when will this nonsense stop? When will we heed the warning that echoes deep within, “Come now. Come down off your high horse.”?

I give you a new commandment, says the Lord: love one another as I have loved you. – John 13:34  

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
                        — Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

Awash…

As each wave comes ashore, along the way it covers all that is lower lying. Sometimes stacking up, it covers higher ground too. Then as it recedes, it pulls back toward the ocean all that is loose or unanchored, leaving a murky mixture of unsettled sand and water behind.

The movement is constant, the intensity waxing and waning, turning motion into commotion at times. Yet, standing in the water, witnessing and experiencing the ebb and flow, toes, then feet and more, under water, swaying… sometimes shifting for better footing, sometimes falling over, but ultimately finding the way, and keeping balance amid conditions of low visibility.  So much like the days we are in, so much tossed about, up in the air, or sinking.

Still though, in between the waves, and even within, there is Hope. There are always moments of clarity where despite murky water all around, the anchor, tried and true, still holds, and the floor of sand with its assorted pebbles, rocks, and shells can be seen. For water that moves always comes clean. Always, always, refreshing the soul… renewing the heart.

May God enlighten the eyes of our hearts,
that we may know what is the hope
that belongs to our call. – Ephesians 1:18

Awash

Leaning into Peace…

A couple of years ago, I came across this large rock while at a retreat house.

Peace

While the word “Peace” is noticeably engraved toward the top of the stone, not so easily seen are the words engraved toward the bottom left side of it. “In verdant pastures He gives one rest.” These words are reminiscent of Psalm 23, which begins, “The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I lack.”

At first glance the rock appears to suggest that peace is an uphill battle. However, despite the fact that it may seem that way, both on this rock and at times in life, perhaps more than anything, it is an invitation. One must remember that Peace is not a destination, but rather a companion on the journey.

As we climb the mountain, the Lord is by our side, solid like a rock, firmly in place, and the peace we find depends upon all that we hold in our hearts and to Whom we lean into, as well as in Whom we rest.

The Lord is my shepherd;
there is nothing I lack.
In green pastures he makes me lie down;
to still waters he leads me;
he restores my soul.
He guides me along right paths
for the sake of his name.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff comfort me.
You set a table before me
in front of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Indeed, goodness and mercy will pursue me
all the days of my life;
I will dwell in the house of the Lord
for endless days. – Psalm 23