Shining Spirit

I invite you to spend some time with these words. I don’t mean read them and move on, but pick 30 minutes, be still and silent, and listen to the words.

“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

There is a time to speak and a time to be silent, according to ancient Hebrew scripture. What do you think? What time is it?

May the Creator of Silence meet you there, and in that silence, may you be filled with all your heart can hold.

What a wonderful gift we’ve been given! Inquisitive minds. Brains with the capacity to wonder. Where would we be without asking “why”?

I wonder why the gentle dawn
returns to signal a new day’s birth?
I wonder why stars illumine the night,
casting soft light on the sleeping earth?
Do you ever wonder about simple things?
Why a grackle even tries to sing?
The way life would be if I were King?
Why the opposite of pong is, surprisingly, ping?
I wonder.

Can you imagine no wondering minds?
Will we someday assume we know it all?
The ebb and the flow of wisdom and truth?
Why up is up and the stock market falls?
I’m sure I will never “know it all.”
My brain is too short, knowledge too tall.
Who’s the mysterious man who lives down the hall?
I wonder.

My mind, it seems, was made for the search.
To ask. To quest. To wonder “why”?
I can’t imagine the moon and the stars,
seeing the heavens, yet not willing to try
to fathom the reasons why we exist.
I don’t mean to offend, but I insist
that wondering is inherent and we must not resist
the urge to know, the need to persist.
I wonder.

Do you wonder, sometimes, about simple things?
About how many feet in that ball of string?
Or, why deep-throated bullfrogs decide to sing
just when I get to that part of my dream
where I rescue the damsel in great distress
and she pins a medal on my manly chest?
Why do those bullfrogs always ruin the best
part of my nap, my afternoon rest?
Do you ever wonder? Ever question “why”?

Me, too.

There is a place in Canada called The Butchart Gardens. Maybe you’ve been there. It is one bloom, one pruning snip away from perfection!

The 55-acre garden, founded more than 100 years ago by the Butchart family, is an explosion of color, shapes, and forms tended by 500 full-time gardeners. To say that it is neat or pristine is high on the understatement list. It is magnificent.

But the garden does serve as a reminder to those of us who like gardening perfection, or any other perfection necessity, for that matter. And the same reminder to someone who finds perfection boring, too neat, too manicured, rather artificial. Flowers, whether in Butchart Gardens or thriving in the meadow near my nephew’s farm, are beautiful and a pleasure to see. Flowers like to be flowers wherever they are. But sometimes the context determines their value, worth, or loveliness. I like the flowers in Butchart Gardens very much, but the perfect setting gets a bit tedious after awhile. I love the wild flowers in the field, even though they insist on being disorganized and random. And then I realize I’m responding more to the environment than the flowery display. If everything has to strive for perfection, then I think randomness is a blight on the earth. If everything must be absolutely free to “do its own thing” then perfection is an impossible curse.

The point (Yea!): Creation is highly varied for a reason. It was made that way so that all things could express their beauty and could contribute to the whole. We are not defined by our context: rich, poor; educated, not educated; politically this or politically that. We are fundamentally the same; flowers growing in lots of places and in lots of ways. We are all flowers.

Butchart boosters and rural wanderers are looking at the same expressions of values and worth. Let’s stop living in the land of contextual truth. Too many other things grow in that land, things like hate, prejudice and self-inflicted pain. Life’s too short. The flowers are too beautiful to be trampled under angry boots on the feet of people who can’t see beyond themselves.

At age 25, writing about death was academic and impersonal. I had met death but rarely and at some distance. One week from now I will hear the 83rd version of Happy Birthday and blow out the cumulative total of 3,486 candles. Figuratively. I can’t certify that there was a cake with one candle on it long ago, and I certainly hope I don’t see a cake with 83 candles on it next week. The fire alarm system in our apartment couldn’t handle it.

“and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.” So writes St. Francis. Several things give me hope flowing from those words. Francis was a holy man who knew God intimately. I trust his certainty. Also, I believe that the opposite of death is not life, but birth. Death and birth are two moments of time set in the context of life. Life that was, life that is, life that will be. And I think that’s what Francis is affirming. I have met death many times over the years, face to face, up close and personal. Fifty-six years of pastoral ministry guarantees the acquaintance. Slowly and naturally, we have become friends. A third thing I believe: when dying happens, so does birth. “to eternal life” Francis writes as he concludes this amazing prayer. To speculate, for me, about the where and the when and the how and the why is a waste of my spiritual energy. That wresting match took place long ago when I wrote academic papers for my seminary professor to satisfy requirements for graduation.

I believe Francis because we share the same source of information. To paraphrase: if you live for me you will never die. You will be “born” to eternal life. I stake my life and my death own those words.

I was. I am. I will be. That’s enough.

May the eternal Francis hear our voices of gratitude for the gift of this beautiful prayer. May the eternal Christ hear our heart songs of joy for making it all a reality. Amen.

“for it is in giving that we receive…”. Doesn’t require a lot of explanation, does it? “What goes around comes around.”. Same idea. “Do unto others as you wish them to do unto you.”. Makes a lot of sense.

Francis, the author of this moving prayer, was so practical. You want to have anger in your life? Be angry with others and you’ll get it right back. Need love in your life? Take down the wall that surrounds you, step out into the Light of transformation, See other people in their need, and respond to that need.

One basic principle of our faith, a foundational truth emphasized by Jesus was: others first; self second. Their needs above my needs. Lose your “self” in order to find soul.

The only way to validate this principle is to do it, test it.

So…? I pray that each of us will have a conscious opportunity to test Francis’ idea and to experience the truth that Jesus taught.

Today.

I like to watch mystery series or movies on TV. It’s fun to see if I can figure out the identity of the villain before the detective solves the crime. And one of the things we TV crime solvers look for is motive, what was the reason for the crime. Money? Notoriety? Ego boost? What caused the crime to happen? There’s always a reason, a motive. Then there’s the thing called an ulterior motive, a second level reason, if you like. For instance, someone does something for what appears to be a good reason…generosity, kindness etc…but that’s a smoke-screen. The ulterior motive is hidden and is almost always self-serving.

Francis, in this prayer petition, makes it clear that doing good things for people, caring for someone, must be done for the benefit and blessing of the other not for serf-serving reasons. People of The Way, disciples of Jesus, love others genuinely, honestly, not in order to obtain love themselves.

“O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be loved as to love.” No ulterior motives, no hidden agendas. We give away what we have been given. We love because we have been and are loved by God, in great abundance. Might be as good idea to have a regularly scheduled motive check-up…you think?

“O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be understood as to understand…”

On page 37 of the How To Raise Children parents’ manual, it says: When dealing with an obstinate child, position yourself directly in front of the offender, appear to squint your eyes, thus furrowing your brow, and while shaking your finger in his or her face, say: “Do you UNDERSTAND me?”

Funny thing. I bump into people all the time who think I’m their child…big people, grown up people who tore page 37 out of the manual and carry it in their pockets. Their goal in life, it seems, is to convince the rest of us that they are right, informed, authoritative and commissioned to correct to their way of thinking or behaving. “I” “Me” and “My” are their favorite words.

Not so with Francis in his prayer. Lord, he prays, help me understand before being understood; help me listen before lecturing. It’s not that what Francis had to say was unimportant; it was that his love and concern for his neighbor caused him to think of neighbor first, self second. Sound familiar? Francis learned that from a man named Jesus.

Today, no matter who crosses your path: listen first, speak second. Listen with your heart. Hear the other person before you correct or set him straight. That’s the way of Jesus. It’s called loving your neighbor as yourself. Do you UNDERSTAND me?

Afterthought: Some people think page 37 works with spouses. Not recommended. But you didn’t hear it from me.

The prayer of St. Francis shifts midway through from “Lord, help me do these things” to “Master, help me do them for the right reason; not for self-serving reasons.” Here is the transition wording: “O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek…..” and then follows the specific issue: “to be consoled as to console.” Francis is quite clear: Lord, don’t let me do these good things for my own benefit, but for the benefit of others.

“to be consoled as to console…” People who follow the Way of Jesus console, comfort, care for a sister or brother because they hurt, not because I hurt. My comforting is directed toward your pain, not my own. In the manner of Jesus, I give myself to your need, not my need. It’s called Selflessness, a hallmark of the life of Jesus and a challenge to 21st century disciples.

By all means, take care of yourself; your personal needs are important. But when you reach out today to encourage, renew, comfort your neighbor, do it because they need it, not because you need it. Give the consolation away freely, no strings attached.

“that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console.”

Sadness is a state of being for many people. They live in it, see life through it, and assume that this is the way it’s going to be from now on. And when this happens, sadness takes over, takes control, always whispering in your ear: times are bad and they won’t get better. And then one day, while out for a lonely, sad walk, you crest the hill, look down into the valley and gasp at what you see. The whole valley floor is covered in bright yellow flowers; not a few, but hundreds and hundreds. And without thinking, you run down the hill into the sea of yellow and dive into the beauty like you would a swimming pool. The aroma of the good earth, the fragrance of the shimmering flowers, the shock of it all…something creates a feeling of deep joy. You lay on your back, looking at a bright blue sky, surrounded by yellow flowers dancing in the gentle breeze. The whole valley seems to sing out its welcome. And you think to yourself: the cause of my sadness still exists, but I choose to live with it instead of in it. I can live with sadness if I must because now I have felt the touch of joy, the embrace of a gift. Sadness will finally give up and slip away, but joy lasts. Joy endures.

I wonder where all these beautiful flowers came from? you wonder to yourself. How was this valley transformed into a place of healing and joy. Here’s the answer: not long ago a man came through the barren valley with large bags carried on a wagon. And as he walked back and forth in the valley, he threw seeds into the air, and the air carried them all over the land and dropped them like a blanket. And rain came as the man left the valley, almost as if timed, and covered the seeds in nourishing water. And the earth opened her arms and welcomed the moist seeds, embraced them until they could contain themselves no longer and burst into joyful yellow flowers.

And then they waited. Waited for you to come along. How grateful we are to the One who creates the seeds and to the one who scatters them.

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace…where there is sadness, let me sow joy…”

When I was misinformed, mistaken, my friend said: “Let me throw some light on this subject…” and he spoke truth. His words were honest and filled with concern for me in the darkness of my confusion. He set me free. Light does that.

When Francis wrote this line in his amazing prayer, surely in the back of his mind was he sentence: “I am the Light of the world…” It’s this Light that Francis wants to sow in all corners of darkness. But how? I know the answer; the real question is: do I really want to do it? In the face of intentional or accidental darkness do I want to speak truth. In the deep darkness, do I really want to be light. Speak light. Be light. Weak knees and frightened minds are strengthened by The Spirit to carry Light into darkness. The darkness of untruth, fear, guilt or shame can become so comfortable that it becomes our “normal”, the way things are supposed to be. Thank God for someone like Francis who comes along with a seed bag full of Light. Thank God for you. Here’s your seed bag. Plant some Light today.

Lord…where there is darkness, let me spread Light so that you can cause the earth to blossom in radiant life. Amen