Shining Spirit

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.

I leave the reading of Psalm 121 to you. It’s short, so take a moment and read it. Yes, now. I’ll wait.

Some random reflections. It was thought, long ago, that powerful spirits lived on mountains; spiritual power on the mountain. So our Psalm writer does what anybody in trouble would do…look up to the mountain, the source of help. Instead, though, the Psalmist declares that help really comes from the One who made the mountain. That’s where the healing resides. It is the relationship with The One who made heaven and earth that makes a difference. Also, “he will not let you stumble…the Lord watches over you.” Well, truth be told, you and I stumble all the time. And, it’s getting harder and harder to get up! So, what about this stumbling? Maybe we ought to read the lines like this: The Lord doesn’t have a magic blanket to cover me. And, if I renounce or ignore my relationship with The One…move away from God and strike out on my own, then I am going to treat God like a lucky charm. God is not a rabbit’s foot in your pocket; God is a relationship in your heart. So, I really can’t blame God for the stumbling, nor complain that God has abandoned me. Who moved away?

I wish I could tell you that trusting God in a deep relationship will prevent all slips and stumblings and crash landings. Prevention? No. But I can remind you that staying in the presence of God, intentionally maintaining the relationship, will pull you through. It’s all about relationship.

Consider yourself reminded.

If life is a journey from A to B,
beginning to end, it occurs to me
that what’s in the middle is of little concern;
the goal is to move from stem to stern,
start to finish, womb to tomb,
all in between just takes up room.

A poem starts and a poem ends;
who cares what message the poem sends?
The words in between just get in the way;
perhaps they had meaning another day,
but the goal is to start with an eye to the end;
get there the quickest…Voila! You’ve win.

When the first note is struck, sing the song;
belt it out, move along.
You can ponder the message another day,
don’t let a feeling get in the way.
The same for a novel, an essay, op-eds;
no one remembers or cares what was said.
Content should never be on your mind;
the goal is to leave all others behind.
“I’ve read 14 books in this single day;
can’t remember what they had to say.
Doesn’t matter, anyway.
Meaning and message just get in the way.
It matters not how you think or feel:
adventure’s allure or meaning’s appeal;
what matters is that you’ve reached the end,
forget the meaning the story sends.

So, if these examples apply to you,
if there’s a chance they really do,
then I’m glad to announce, to publically say
we are fools to live this distorted way.
All things begin and all things end,
it’s what’s in the middle, the meaning each sends
that enriches, informs, touches the heart,
so consider this before you start:
Read with your heart, not just your mind,
feel the power of each wonderful line;
don’t rush through life like a race to run;
don’t miss the joy, the simple fun
of being alive, the taste of sweet wine,
love’s embrace, how it feels to be kind.
For in between the start and the end
is the fertile soil where life begins.

Pity the man who has lost his heart,
even before the symphony starts,
who considers that when the music begins
his goal is merely to get to the end.
What a way to live! To die!
Never to touch the feelings inside.

In his fine book, Water From A Deep Well, scholar Gerald Sittser explains why followers of Jesus in the first century were vilified, hated, and abused. And it’s not because they were on the street corners proclaiming the Lordship of Jesus. Here’s what Sittser writes: basically three things got the early Christians into serious trouble in the Roman Empire. First, they had an adverse affect on the economy of the Empire. Economics. Because they followed the Way of Jesus, early converts drifted away from temple worship and their absence, or the absence of their financial support, had a dramatic impact on the treasury. Isn’t it nice to know that their behaviors were in line with their beliefs.

Second, Christians were accused of forming “political clubs.” They spoke a different message. It was about hospitality, caring for the poor, creating social events to share fellowship. These topics, among others, led Empire leaders to believe that a new political system was forming, one very different from their own. Isn’t it nice to know that they were accused of caring and sharing.

Third, they were accused of departing from “the cultural norm.” Now, there’s a dangerous outfit! Addressing “cultural norms” meant rocking the boat. Dangerous! That can’t be tolerated.

Economics. Politics. Cultural norms. How dare these people address real life issues when they should have been concerned only about things “religious!” We could take a lesson from those first century folks. The truth is, they did have a huge influence in those three areas. They changed the world by how they lived. Times have changed and times haven’t changed. What might we be accused of these days? I wonder.

“You don’t love someone because they are perfect; you love them in spite of the fact that they’re not.” Perfection is elusive. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it. Have you? I’ve met a lot of good, thoughtful, loving, kind people. I’d put you on that list. But perfect? You and I have a way to go yet.

Think of that line in one of Gregory Alan Isakov’s songs. The line says: “if it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be alone.” Give me a second chance, please! And Love says “yes,” I forgive you. Learn something about life and about yourself. Forgiving is not a game to play; it is a gift to give and a gift to receive. My faith teaches me to forgive without limit, but it also addresses behaviors consistent with truth and integrity. Bottom line: forgiveness is not cheap. But without it…we’d all be alone.

Who do you need to forgive? Who waits for a second chance? We don’t love people because they are perfect; we love them in spite of the fact that they’re not. Takes courage, doesn’t it, to be forgiving. And it takes commitment to receive it. And in spite of our imperfections, we press on…the forgiven and the forgiving…walking in the footsteps of Limitless Mercy and Abundant Grace.

Which statement is more appealing to you?

1. The desert will lead you to your heart where I will speak.
2. The dessert will lead you to your heart where I will speak.
   

The words are a restatement of Hosea 2:14. That’s in the Bible. Since I live in the desert, the first option is an encouragement. The simplicity, the austerity of this landscape promotes an encounter with God. I’m all in favor of that. The second statement is appealing, too. That slice of carrot cake that required two hands to carry…the strawberry cake I enjoyed recently when another birthday rolled around…donuts, cookies. To use another famous phrase, this time slightly modified: it was the comic figure Pogo who said…”We have met the enemy and he is (dessert)!” I forgot to mention ice cream and assorted pies. If statement number two proved to be true, imagine how big church pews would have to be.

Anyway…my point is this: little things matter. That one little, squiggly line, shaped into the letter “s”, made a big difference between the two lines. So today, take care with your language. Little words are often just as important as puffed-up, pompous ones. Little thoughts can turn into big plans. Little rattlers are as lethal as big ones. (Rattler=snake) And “three little words” put into action can change the whole world. I love you.

Just a little something for you to think about. Press on into the day with the knowledge that a little faith, a little hope, a little love…better than none. From little acorns.

I don’t expect this to be a perfect day.
I have learned to set my sights a little lower.
Memorable would be nice.
Meaningful would be good.
Average is acceptable.
However and whatever it turns out to be,
I hope:
*that it begins and ends with two words:
Thank You
*that the man standing on the corner trying to
sell newspapers to passing motortists
will be acknowledged as a person
*that the people who have the power
to make decisions for me will
actually think of me
*that when I make decisions, I
think beyond myself
*that my encounter with the sacred
Spirit of Life is not because it
is “prayer time” but because
I have engaged life with integrity
and compassion
*that my conscience will connect
with my brain
*that I may respond to at least one
opportunity to smile at a stranger
instead of looking away
*admire some element of the
landscape around me
*do one generous thing for another
person without expecting a
“thank you”
*put my finger to my wrist to
feel my pulse and acknowledge
that I didn’t make it happen
*feel something so deeply that
I gasp or weep or laugh or sigh
*stop beating myself up or living
for somebody else’s admiration.

And when the day is done, may
I fall, exhausted, into the arms of
the Mystery that I know exists
but cannot explain
and may my last thought that
escorts me into sleep be:
it wasn’t a perfect day
but it’s what I had
and I tried.