Shining Spirit

Perhaps the highest compliment one person can give to another is the willingness and trust to share a thought, a dream, a hope. The act of sharing one’s self with another human being, opening my mind and my heart to you, is a blessing to the receiver and to the giver. At one level, sharing simply means talking about the weather or who’s going to win the Super Bowl game. But, deep sharing is to open the door and invite someone to walk into your heart or your mind. The deep interior of one’s self is a sacred place and only the trusted are invited to come in. And I think this same idea of deep sharing with a friend applies to prayer, also. Prayer is more than chit-chat, more than asking God to make the lottery numbers work this time. The power of prayer is felt when I share my most profound sorrow or hope or joy with The One whose love, acceptance or forgiveness invite me to come in, sit down for awhile, and lay the burden down. So often we think of God as being remote, inaccessible when in reality God is as near as my next thought or emotion. God’s hand is always extended to me and, like the couple walking along the beach holding hands, to take God’s extended hand into mine means our Creator and Friend is just that close. In another sense, Jesus, the Christ of God, is God’s hand reaching out to take mine. So, the next time you take a walk for exercise or refreshment, to ponder something or to pray, know that there is Someone beside you whose hand is extended to yours. Take it.

If you can enlarge the photograph, and you have nothing better to do, you can count the tree rings and calculate the age of this huge driftwood now resting on the Manzanita beach. No, I didn’t do it. But even at a casual glance, you can tell that this once elegant tree witnessed a lot of history in its time. That’s part of the wonder of nature for me. That beautiful old tree you pass every day without really noticing, or the rugged mountain cliffs that become commonplace, or the churning ocean that sings day after day — these are repositories of remarkable history. Think what the Rockies have witnessed over the centuries or those great Redwoods. When I stop to wonder about this, I come away with at least two conclusions: my few years on this earth aren’t as big as a grain of sand, so I dare not take myself too seriously. I’m passing through. And, all living things, even those we think insignificant, are the keepers of history. Maybe a third thing, too: I am grateful for a few years of walking through history in the company of forests and oceans and creatures of all sizes and shapes. And that includes my crusty neighbor, people in places to which I will never go–people I will never know, and this splendid earth-ball that floats through a living universe. I may not be blessed with wealth or prominence or position, but I am rich. And so are you. Let your gratitude be as strong as the Redwood, as powerful as the oceans, and as humble as the wide-eyes of a little child. You are blessed. Return it today in some tangible way. Press on.

He flew low,
it was his choice,
safer, he thought,
in case of emergency.
A fall from the heights
can be painful, even fatal.
But over time and miles,
conditioned, then captured
by a shallow hope,
he mistook reflection for
reality. The watery shadow
beneath him beckoned, invited,
enticed. Come and fly
with me, it said, until one
day, still thinking the
shadow substance, he flew
down and down
slowly, moving closer
and closer to the
image now growing
larger and larger until
it was too late and he was
consumed by an Illusion.

If only he had dared to
soar, to risk the heights,
to rise with courage
above the shadowy mist,
to glide effortlessly in
the embrace of Light,
free of deception and restraint.

Light does not deceive.
Light will not. It cannot.
Light is the breath of the Sacred,
the place where angels play
in the smile of God.
See, Light comes with the morning.
Come, we shall fly today
in The Light.

I discovered this lovely little bridge quite by chance. It’s tucked away along one of the many curves in Highway 101. You can’t see it unless you take your eyes off the road, look down into a low area adjacent to the highway, tilt your head a little to the left and close one eye. Just kidding. Almost.

From the first moment I saw the bridge, I knew I had to find a pull-off spot, walk along a dirt road that leads right up the bridge, and snap a few pictures. And, on one of our rare days when it was not pouring down rain, I did just that. To my surprise, I discovered that the bridge was built over a very pretty bubbling stream that was a delight to see. Maybe those pictures another time. What you don’t see in the photograph is a red sign at the near end of the bridge. The sign says: This bridge is certified for all emergency vehicles. Even big, heavy fire trucks can make the crossing safely. Good news for anyone who lives across the bridge and around the bend in the road. It’s a strong bridge that can be trusted.

The world I live in could use some bridges that span chasms of misunderstanding, misinformation, and missing values. We need bridges that can be trusted to bear the weight, carry the load. And we could use a few bridge builders, too. In many ways, Jesus was a bridge from one world to another, one reality to a different reality. He linked things and people. He brought together people of various stations in life, differing viewpoints, different priorities. He was a bridge to a new place in thinking and acting. Not only that, he taught people how to build bridges. He called it loving your neighbor, forgiving, sacrificing. Then he told them to go out into the world and build. To carry the metaphor to its extreme, the church I attend is a school for bridge building. We call it redemption and reconciliation.  As He was and is the bridge, so we, his disciples, are certified bridge builders. Lots of gaping chasms out there. Lots of bridges needed. So, pick up your toolkit of determined faith and press on. Time to build some bridges in his name.

A little bit of irony never hurt anybody. The company sign is on the back of a pickup truck. I couldn’t resist. Have a blessed day. 

A couple of nights ago, we had a sleep-over at our house. The rain had stopped and as darkness began to descend, I walked out onto the backyard deck, just to make sure everything was ready for a good night’s sleep. The trees are very thick just beyond the deck, except for a small clearing off to my right behind the tool shed. And when I looked that way, I thought I saw movement, slight but still something other than branches moving in the wind. And then I saw the big ears atop that graceful, gentle face. A young deer had found a nice spot next to a yellow wheelbarrow and apparently decided to bed down for the night. He looked at me very carefully, probably wondering if I might come too close and force him out of his comfort. I think our eyes locked for a minute or two before he glanced away, maybe deciding that I wasn’t a threat after all. By now darkness had chased away the light, and I wished the visitor a good night before heading back into the warm house. 

Then a thought passed through my mind, one that almost sent me back out with a flashlight. Was the beautiful animal injured? Is that why he didn’t move away when I looked his way? Why was he on his own at this point in his young life? Should I go back out and walk closer just to see if he could get up and move easily? After a few minutes of debating with myself, I decided to let him rest in that spot he had chosen, and to check on him early in the morning. My real wish was to walk up to him, sit down on the ground and tell him how grateful I was that he chose to camp out in the little clearing. Imagine how wonderful it would have been to let him know that he was safe, admired, and valued as a creature of sacred design. But that’s not the way life works, is it. Early yesterday morning, just as light began to filter into the trees, I slipped quietly out onto the deck and looked for my friend, our guest. But he was gone. I take that to mean he is healthy, out foraging for his early meal.  In any case, I wished him well in my thoughts and gave thanks for his company. Hospitality blesses the giver and the receiver. Maybe he will choose to come back to the clearing and bring a friend next time. Always glad to have a party.

Highway 101 runs along the west coast and it’s known for sharp curves, stunning views of the ocean and falling rocks from steep, shear cliffs. Recently, my wife and I drove to Astoria to do some shopping and some exploring. As we worked our way through a series of switch-back curves, we met a new friend. He had already stopped traffic coming the other way. Now, as he casually walked across the busy highway, quite unconcerned about cars flashing headlights and honking horns, I stood on the brakes and pulled to the shoulder of the roadway. The next thing we knew, he was strolling up behind our car, then walking slowly beside us on the passenger side. Thus, the picture above. What a magnificent creature. I think Sue could have reached out an touched him he was so close, but she had second thoughts. Smart woman.

This has been a remarkable week because of sightings and encounters with wonderful examples of beauty in God’s good creation. Two days ago it was the brilliant rainbow in our neighborhood, then yesterday the Elk walking beside the car, and today my unplanned visit with two deer eating grass along a roadway in our State Park. The pair looked up, gave me a wink, and kept right on eating. Since there were no other cars on this backroad, I stopped, rolled down the window, said hello and asked them to pose for a few photographs. Apparently the sweet grass was more interesting than my invitation, but I got a few pictures anyway. Wonderful memories were made this week. Wonderful blessings came our way. In all three episodes, I turned a corner and ran right into examples of the artistry and gifts of The Presence. I can’t wait to get in the car tomorrow!

You’ve heard the old tale about the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? There’s not one. I know. I was there yesterday. I was driving home from the Post Office, the rain had stopped and the sun decided to pop out for a few minutes, I turned the corner, jammed on the brakes, jumped out of the car and ran into the end of the rainbow. The colors were so vivid in this full arch above the houses. And, yes, the end of the rainbow seemed to come down behind the house in the photo above. So, I slipped between the houses and into the general area when the strips of color disappeared into the moist air. Honestly, for having stood in the end of the rainbow, I don’t think I look any more like Tom Cruise than I used to, but my spirit got a huge boost and I felt a sense of gratitude. Genesis 9:13 all over again! ”The sign of the covenant…” As I think I have mentioned before, there are signs of Presence everywhere; signals that a promise is a promise. Maybe you won’t see a full rainbow today, but if you pay attention, you will get reminders that we are not alone in this amazing experience called life. Stunning or subtle, they are there. 

The voyage of the USS Manzanita is about done. The Captain gave the order yesterday: Navigator, plot a course for Arizona. I said: Aye, aye, Captain. When the Captain’s on the bridge, everybody pays attention. We don’t get underway for a couple of weeks, but it takes planning and organization to stock supplies, haul out the footlockers, make sure that everything is shipshape so that the voyage to homeport is successful. It’s only about 1,500 miles, and we’re hoping for fair winds and following seas. Our sturdy ship was fully loaded on the voyage here and that’s the case sailing home, too. One extra souvenir T-shirt will sink us. So, in a short time, when all is ready, the Captain will give the order to haul in all lines, call upon the Chaplain to bless our days underway, and stand on the bridge wing as the crew “mans the rails”. With one long blast on the ship’s horn, we are off, leaving behind the wonderful experience of this coastal port, pointing the bow toward home. I will keep you posted as I mark off each day on our “short timer’s calendar”. By the way, I advise standing aside if you encounter the Captain in a passageway. She has a lot to do. 

I share with you the traditional words of the Midshipman Prayer offered weekly in the chapel at the U.S. Naval Academy. While distinctly Christian in wording, this beautiful prayer has also been set in Interfaith language. 

Almighty Father, whose way is in the sea, whose paths are in the great waters, whose command is over all and whose love never fails; let me be aware of Thy presence and obedient to Thy will. Keep me true to my best self, guarding me against dishonesty in purpose and in deed, and helping me so to live that I can stand unashamed and unafraid before my shipmates, my loved ones, and Thee. Protect those in whose love I live. Give me the will to do my best and to accept my share of responsibilities with a strong heart and a cheerful mind. Make me considerate of those entrusted to my leadership and faithful to the duties my country has entrusted to me. Let my uniform remind me daily of the traditions of the service of which I am a part. If I am inclined to doubt, steady my faith; if I am tempted, make me strong to resist; if I should miss the mark, give me courage to try again. Guide me with the light of truth and keep before me the life of Him by whose example and help I trust to obtain the answer to my prayer, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

In this reading this morning, let me tell you about another reading that I’m reading every morning. No, it is not about clarity in sentence structure. It’s about people who are picky and demanding, always expecting perfection. The ones who are not satisfied after the steak has gone back to the kitchen four times. They somehow believe that being very particular is an indicator of good taste and that not being satisfied unless their preferences are met is a sign of sophistication. The point that Mark Nepo wants to make is “one key to knowing joy is being easily pleased,” and that demanding impossible perfection will always leave us disappointed. Quote: ”The further I wake into this life, the more I realize that God is everywhere and the extraordinary is waiting quietly beneath the skin of all that is ordinary. Light is in both the broken bottle and the diamond, and music is in both the flowing violin and the water dripping from the drainage pipe. Yes, God is under the porch as well as on top of the mountain, and joy is in both the front row and the bleachers…” if we are generous in our acceptance of life in the moment.

Acceptance of life as gift doesn’t mean liking everything that comes along, but it is quite different from demanding perfection, seeing life as never quite good enough, and living in perpetual disappointment. One more quote: ”the devastating truth is that excellence (perfection) can’t hold you in the night… A person dying of thirst doesn’t ask if the water has chlorine or if it was gathered in the foothills of France.” My point in sharing Nepo’s point of view: Life is a gift put into the hands of imperfect people who rarely experience perfection. An attitude of demanding is not a good way to say “thank you” to the gift giver. My wife has told me more than once that the words inscribed on my headstone will be: ”It’ll do.” So, that’s my gift to you this morning. Please don’t be demanding of perfection in grammar, choice of words, punctuation or writing style. This is not about literary perfection. It’s about spiritual awareness. Don’t miss the jewel contained in Nepo’s idea. Give it some thought. 

I am grateful for Mark Nepo’s The Book of Awakening. The subtitle tells it all: ”Having the life you want by being present to the life you have.” May you find blessing and joy in this extraordinarily ordinary day.