Shining Spirit

I am an underliner, a highlighter, and a marginal note maker. I rarely open a book without a pen in my hand or one of those yellow highlighters. And this is always the case when I read anything written by Mark Nepo. His words beg to be underlined.

In his book “The Fifth Season: Creativity In The Second Half of Life” the markings are obvious and many. I thought I might share a few with you this morning. Let’s focus on the short chapter titled “Living A Creative Life.” Here are some underlines: “more than what we create, we are created and shaped by how much we give of ourselves to what we are called to.” Or, “I encourage you to follow your curiosity, to give yourself to whatever detail calls you.” Picture yourself holding hands with curiosity as you walk through your day. Or, “This is the lasting purpose of art in all its forms: to reveal our interconnectedness and to help us live.” Last one: “The highest reward for a person’s toil is not what they get for it, but what they become by it.” I really like that last one. You might want to underline it and spend a little time with it. Creativity’s reward is not in obtaining something, but becoming something. And I think it is a short step to the spiritual application. In growing and developing my personal spirituality, I am not trying to gain degrees or offices or positions. Our intent is to become, which is a process and not a program to accomplish. Following Christ’s Way is a life changing, life producing process. The joy is in the becoming.

I hope today will be filled with opportunities for you to “become” more and more the person you are as you practice kindness, generosity and gratitude. Press on.

I can see light peeking into my room. It reveals itself in a thin line at the bottom of the long, slatted blinds that cover the patio window. It’s faint, but it’s there. And it grows bolder by the minute. Perhaps I will sit here and watch it capture the room, or maybe I will give it time to gather momentum and then throw the blinds open as a gesture of welcome. Even now the light line has moved farther into the darkness of the room. It is so encouraging to know that light exists and that it has the power to overcome darkness.

Encouraging, yes, because in times of deep darkness, light becomes my only hope. All else seems to succumb to shadows and darkness. Human creations crumble around the edges until they fall, but light keeps sneaking in under the long, slatted blinds until it fills the room with clarity and hope. Two things must be put on paper this morning and sent off to you: the first is my “random” encounter with a little book that has been hidden by bigger ones on the bookcase shelf. It is called “Little Pieces of Light…Darkness and Personal Growth.” The author is Joyce Rupp. And while putting another book back onto the shelf this morning, this little volume was happily revealed. It tumbled from the shelf onto the floor as if to say “read me!” It’s only seventy pages long…it is a little piece of light. I will spend some grateful moments in the last chapter, titled “The Morning Will Come.” By the way, the light line under the blinds is getting bigger and bigger.

The second thing that I must say is not my thought, only my hope. The words of one verse of Psalm 18: “You light a lamp for me. The Lord, my God, lights up my darkness.” You see, I believe that “the Lord, my God” made light in the first place, put flesh around the light and sent it walking through Galilee, spread it across the universe as a spiritual presence, and sent a little piece of it to slide under the slatted blinds into my room and into my darkness. The Morning Will Come! And it has! The line of light is growing larger and brighter moment by moment.

“I am the Light of the world.” “The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear…” “Walk in the Light…” “Live as people of light…” “Put your trust in the Light…”
Darkness won’t win. The morning will come. It’s time to open the blinds and stand in the Light. Join me, there’s enough for us both.

Years ago, while stationed at the U.S. Naval Academy, I lived very near the Severn River, a 14-mile-long tidal estuary that wanders past Annapolis, Maryland. A water-level, two-laned bridge crossed the Severn about a mile away…a rather routine little bridge that boasted no scary heights or turns. But for one friend, crossing that bridge, or any bridge, for that matter, was a traumatic event. It was so difficult for her that she called friends to drive her car across while she rode as a passenger. Even the thought of bridges in San Diego, San Francisco or New York City could cause her great anguish.

But…it’s just a bridge, someone might say. If you want to get from here to there, you have to go over it. True, but “what if…” and that’s the problem. Many of us live “what if…” lives. Bridges can bring out an attack of the “what ifs…”

New subject. I recently acquired a copy of a beautiful prayer attributed to the Dalai Lama, a gentle prayer titled “Prayer of Peace.” It begins: “May I become…” and then lists several things one might become in order to find and to be peace in the world. “May I become…a protector…a guide for the lost…a sanctuary for all in danger…” And there it is: a bridge for those with rivers to cross. And who among us has not had “rivers to cross” in our lives?

I remind us today that moving from doubt to trust, from despair to hope, from brokenness to wholeness, an old way to a new way oftentimes means that we have to cross a bridge…leave one place to arrive at a new place, an old way of thinking to a new way. Is it any wonder that Jesus described himself as The Way? Perhaps he could have said “I am the bridge that links you to life.” In another place and time, Jesus called it being “born again.” Don’t let the institutional baggage attached to those words turn you away…it just means that He is my doorway, my portal, my bridge to a full, meaningful life. He is the bridge to the fullness of life right now, only in some distant, eternal future.

The next time you cross a bridge…big one or small one…tranquil or terrifying…think of the One who connects the pieces of life and shapes them, in love, into completeness. May you have many rivers yet to cross and may your crossing remind you of the One who is at your side. The Bridge.

Press on!

“…unless you become like a child…” Matthew 18:3

And how shall I know the secrets of life?
How detect the things that might
prove to be friend, challenge as foe?
Is there a way by which to know
where danger lurks, joy resides?
Places of shelter in which to hide
when storms appear in the distant sky,
when the prize is worth the effort to try?

A college degree? A master plan?
Help me think of things that can
reveal the best and the worst of life,
the peaceful path without danger or strife.
I respect your opinion; I seek your advice.
Otherwise life’s just a roll of the dice.

And he sat me down on the side of the road
where bright blue flowers seemed to explode
from the rich, moist earth, and the country air,
crisp and clean, tossed my hair.
I felt like a child, free as the wind;
O, that this would never end.
And then came the word, his gentle voice:
my friend, he said, you are faced with a choice:
continue to walk as you have before;
surprises await, much is in store,
but if you desire the depths of joy,
then become once again that little boy
who chased after butterflies, danced in the rain;
who wept tears of joy, cried tears of pain.
Become who you are deep down inside;
tomorrow is yours with nothing to hide.
Take off your shoes; let your feet touch the earth,
sense the currents of pulsing birth;
feel the stones, the wet green grass,
wade in the stream, all that is past
will fade away like a distant dream
and you can run and shout and laugh and sing,
all from the joy of this one thing:
take off your shoes and touch the earth,
the ancient soil of your spirit’s birth.
From the earth you came; to the earth you belong,
so skip, turn cartwheels, sing a song.
With the heart of a child, barefoot and bold,
walk this good earth, reclaim your soul.

In a delightful essay about creativity, author Ray Bradbury makes this comment: “When people ask me where I get my ideas, I laugh. How strange–we are so busy looking out to find ways and means, we forget to look in.” I’ve lost count of the mornings when I climb out of bed, eventually end up in front of the coffee maker, then slowly sip the hot wake-up mixture. And while sipping, I ask myself the same question: What shall I write today? A subject. A topic. Something I can write about with at least a vague acquaintance.

At this intersection of waking and wondering, I often turn to my bookshelf, the repository of other minds and pens. Sometimes a book opens itself, setting free an idea which agrees to be expanded or embellished. I write. But the well of almost-creativity runs dry in time, and with the third cup of coffee I am staring at all those colorful book covers that refuse to contribute a creative thought. The muse has moved away and I am left alone with an empty coffee cup and an equally empty mind. Muse. Now there’s an interesting word. Not used often but ancient in meaning and in thought-making. The Spirit of Creativity. That inner mystery that when fed and tended whispers ideas and intrigue, the food of creativity. I shall visit the muse, I tell myself, as I turn away from my bookshelf filled with sullen acquaintances and knock on the Muse’s door within my experience, memory, being. Thus, Bradbury’s quotation “…so busy looking out, to find ways and means, we forget to look in.”

The source of human creativity. The table of memory and meaning from which I feast. The well that cannot run dry. Is this anything other than The Spirit that made the muse, shaped the memory, tickled the imagination, urged the thought? There is a sacred Spirit that waits patiently while I rummage the books and brains of external sources, waits until I finally turn and embrace the eternal gift of Grace. “…we forget to look in,” he wrote. Ah, it is inside, sometimes deep, where the Muse of Creativity takes off her mask, revealing the flickering Light of Meaning, a torch held by The Eternal Presence.

It is here, not out there, where I am gifted with a word, and another, and another until the page glistens from the glow deep inside. Rare the moment? Maybe. But only because the doorway to the deep is often behind and beyond the experience, the usual, the ordinary. The sacred Muse of Light and Meaning, the perpetual Presence, responds to inquires and entreaties…responds…to a knock on the door. “Knock and it shall be opened unto you.” And that’s not Bradbury.

Some thoughts for your reflection. The topic is “reverence,” a word that might save us from ourselves. Consider this from Spiritual Literacy: Reading the Sacred In Everyday Life. “The challenge of the saints in the twenty-first century is to begin to comprehend the sacred in the ten thousand things of our world, to reverence what we have come to view as ordinary and devoid of spirit.” (Edward Hayes)

Look around. There is so much that is deserving of our respect and honor. The sacred is in, with, and under the ten thousand things of the world. Or, from The Book of Rites, Confucius says: “Always and in everything, let there be reverence.” Philosopher Thomas Berry: “Every being has its own interior; its self, its mystery.” Add to that the thought of German dramatist von Goethe: “the soul of the Christian religion is reverence.” Then the voice of Jesus: look at the birds of the air, the flowers in the field, the hairs on your head, the bread we break, the one who is outcast and helpless, mountains and molecules that make up the human body…all living things possess the spirit of God, which means that all things should be held in compassionate reverence.

Albert Schweitzer and his concept of “reverence for life” as the foundation of his ethics: “Profound love demands a deep conception and out of this develops reverence for the mystery of life. It brings us close to all beings.” It brings us to the place where God resides: deep within all living things.

To walk through this day and all it demands with a deliberate reverence, an intentional awareness of the sacred in life around us is to bless, to be blessed, and to follow the footsteps of Jesus. An attitude of reverence and actions of reverent compassion might get us out of the world mess we have created. It will certainly make your day brighter and your heart tender. Walk today in reverence. Keep your eye on the One who leads creation towards Light. Press on.

Football is a combination of running, throwing, blocking, falling down, getting up, and hurting. It’s a team sport, so we could think working together, cooperation. Or, the necessitty of being strong, physically fit. Or, following rules. Or…any number of life-application topics. How about the ability to let go? I watched college football the other day and I saw the quarterback orchestrate like a symphony conductor. Quarterbacks are field generals. Everything happens on their command. The troops engage the opposition when the quarterback barks out the order. At the half-time break, I picked up my copy of “There Is Never Anything But The Present,” a little collection of thoughts and quotes from Alan Watts, and I stopped on the page containing these words: “I cannot throw a ball so long as I am holding on to it–so as to maintain perfect control of its movement.” And that led me to imagine a football quarterback who takes the snap, fades back as receivers race down the field, sees the wide-receiver all alone in the end zone, and then says to himself: The perfect moment! In a split-second, he sees in his mind the arch of the football and the WR snatching it out of the sky. Touchdown!

But…in order to put points on the scoreboard, the QB has to throw the ball, let it go, watch it wobble into a spiral and drop into the uncertain arms of the lonely WR. What if he drops the perfect pass? What if I don’t throw it just right and it falls 10 yards short? What if…oh, no…it’s intercepted? The next thing the QB knows, he’s flat on his back, still clutching the football, still holding on. He wouldn’t or couldn’t let it go. He feared losing control, and his hesitancy cost him…and the team…dearly.

Sometimes it is hard to let something go, isn’t it? Grudges, remorse, shame…it’s hard to let healing take place if you turn your back on a possibility of wholeness. “What if my releasing is not received well? What if she or he ignores my timid trust?” When the QB refuses to release the ball into the uncertainity of a good outcome, it’s called a “sack.” When I refuse to let go of my fears or frustrations, it’s called intensified pain.

When the opportunity shows up, even if there is some measure of risk, throw the ball. Let it go. Who knows if the moment will ever come again?

In my meditation early this morning, I decided to explore a beautiful prayer attributed to the 14th Dalai Lama from the Buddhist tradition. The similarities between this prayer and the message of Jesus are striking. So, as a start, I wrote the title of the prayer at the top of my blank sheet of paper: “Prayer For Peace.” Then, a few minutes into the reflection, I noticed that I had inadvertently put the word “For” in place of the correct word: “Of” Everything changed. The whole thrust of the prayer shifted when I mistakenly wrote “For.” I had turned the prayer toward a petition, a request that God might bring peace to our time. But what the original prayer was designed to do was celebrate that you and I can become living peace. This is a Prayer OF Peace. This is an acknowledgement that what God offers is living peace embodied in people like you and me.

Now my mind went to the lovely words of St. Francis: “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace…” Make me! I am a voice, a song, a hand of peace in the “becoming.” Living peace.

Then the words of Jesus surfaced: My peace I leave with you. My peace I give you…
His parting gift to the faithful was the robe of peace. Put it on, he might have said. Wear it everyday. This is who you are now…become who are are. Along with telling people about peace, be peace.

A little word can make a big difference. Not “For” but “Of.” All of this reminds me once again that the joy of following Christ is in the becoming…becoming the fullness of who we really are. In gratitude, press on into this good day…as Peace.

There’s a song running through my mind, an old song that suggests a basic philosophy about life. Not that I’m proposing this worldview. It’s just cluttering up my limited mind space. You will recognize people who have adopted this way of looking at life by a particular gesture they use very naturally. The shoulder shrug. You’ll remember the song: “…I asked my father, what will I be? Will I be handsome? Will I be rich? Here’s what he said to me: Whatever will be, will be…” Shrug.

Now, that shrug can mean several things, like “how would I know?” Or, “it’s not for us to know.” Or, “life is out of our control.” Or, “just roll with the punches.” It sounds an awful lot like resignation to a perceived reality. But turn the page and let me remind us about some other old words that come from a different mind and heart The man I’m thinking of said, basically, align your life with God so that when hard times come along you will have strength to carry on; choose to act humbly with all life around you; seek out justice instead of hoping that somebody else will; show mercy to everyone; make life choices on the basis of thoughtful ethics and morality; work for peace…work, don’t shrug your shoulders and sigh: “What will be, will be.”

But then, to align your life with the God of Jesus is not an invitation to inertia; it is a call to shape life by turning principles into practices. The day is upon us when the answer to our children’s and grandchildren’s question: “What will the future be like? What will I be?” cannot be a shrug of the shoulders and the vacant comment: “Sorry, love, but what will be, will be.”

Jesus did not call people to sign up and sit down. Sometimes the docile lamb following the shepherd needs to be a daring disciple who declares and does the right, the just, and the merciful. Without counting the cost.

I can’t think of a better time than now. Can you?

The late Anglican Bishop, John Shelby Spong, left us with many fertile thoughts that prompt serious consideration. Here are a few of those thoughts for our reflection and meditation.

“I believe that God is very real. I believe that I live my life every day inside the reality of this God. I call this God by different words. I describe God as the source of life and the source of love and the ground of being.”

“Christianity is not about the divine becoming human as much as it is about the human becoming divine.”

“God is a presence I can never define but never deny.”

“I do assert that one prepares for eternity, not by being religious and keeping the rules, but by living fully, loving wastefully and daring to be all that each of us has the capacity to be.”

(A favor please: It is important that I determine the current level of readership for Shining Spirit. The site has about 100 subscribers but actual readership seems far below that number. So, how about this: after reading today’s posting, would you mark it “Liked” (whether you did nor not). Maybe this is a way to determine more precisely how many people have visited and read the post. Thank you very much.)

Blessing and peace to you in this good day.