Shining Spirit

The story is remarkable. Here’s the setting: a party is given in the home of two sisters, Martha and Mary. Lots of friends are invited and that means lots of food will be required for the festivities. It’s likely that both women prep the house and get everything ready for the grand evening. But, among the guests is a young teacher named Jesus, a man of extraordinary wisdom and charismatic appeal. When all the guests have arrived, Mary sits down with the crowd, just as Jesus begins to speak. She hangs on his every word, at least until Martha comes bursting through the kitchen door, apron askew, her hands covered in flour, and a frustrated look on her face. Mary, she shouts, would you please come into the kitchen and help me prepare all this food! Then Martha turns to Jesus: Teacher, would you please tell Mary to come help me; there is still much to be done. Reasonable request. But Mary doesn’t move. It’s a standoff. And then comes the deeper meaning of this story. Jesus, instead of telling Mary to help her sister, turns to Martha: Martha, Martha! You worry about ten thousand things…but only one thing is important. And, Jesus might have added, that one thing isn’t food.

Mary chose Presence over preparation; the moment over the meal. Martha forfeited the blessing for the baking. And to Martha’s credit, she was trying to be a good hostess. This story just doesn’t make any sense. Mary gets the pat on the head; Martha gets a mild scolding because she is trying to show hospitality. But isn’t the story wonderful in its metaphor and meaning. One thing is urgently important, Jesus declared for all to hear, and it’s not meat and bread. The consciousness of Presence, participation in Presence tops all priorities. If you are present to the Presence of God you will have meat enough, plenty of bread; you will have a feast of knowing. Only one thing is so important.

Isn’t this what Christmas is all about? You and I are so busy in the kitchen of our Christmas preparation that we miss the manger. It’s not the turkey or the mashed potatoes or the green beans, or a combination of those things into the celebratory meal, that makes this story so powerful. It is the Presence of the “one thing necessary.” Don’t miss the amazing wisdom of this story, and don’t miss the moment in favor of a bowl of beans. Christmas says pay attention to what is important; one thing and one thing only. Emmanuel. God with us. Practice the Presence every day and you will have nourishment enough to satisfy your soul.

I have a headline for you. Not about a mess in the world, but about a miracle. Ready? “Jesus Prayed For You Today!” For you! You are on His prayer list! And I’m not making this up; He said it clearly. “I do not pray for these only (his immediate audience) but also for those (this is us) who believe in me through their word (what is said and what is done).” You are in His mind and heart because of all those people who spoke and lived His presence over the years and centuries, your spiritual parents. You are in His mind and heart because of the quiet love of faithful people who taught you, loved you, forgave you, spoke of Him or demonstrated His way. The line of saints goes far back in history, all the way back to that day when Jesus spoke the words. You are in His mind and heart because of your quiet faithfulness day after day.

You remember one or two of those special people in your history, don’t you. They were the ones, now recognized in hindsight, who planted seeds, nurtured them, watered them with love so that you could bloom today. “…not for these only…” but for all who believe in me because of what they do and what they say. “I pray not only for these…” but for Gary and Susan and Judy and Virgil (put your own name here). You are on His list because faith is transmitted through the lives of ordinary people, just like the ones who are walking through your memory at this moment, your spiritual mentors, miracle makers even if they didn’t know it. Transmitted to live in the life experience of folks like us.

Now, here comes the hard part. The reason you and I are in the mind and heart of Jesus through the lives of our spiritual mentors is “…that they all may be one, even as you, Father, are in me and I am in you; that they may also be in us.” I like the part about Jesus in me and me in Jesus; why didn’t He stop there. But he didn’t. His love compels us to “be one.” To take down barriers, overcome differences, unlock doors, throw open windows so that The Spirit can blow through. The Spirit: the only thing that will bind us together in spite of our humanity. The only thing.

Christmas is just a few days away. It is the annual reminder not only of a remarkable event in the village of Bethlehem, but also of an astonishing contemporary reality: Jesus prayed for you then and does even today through your friendship with the Holy Spirit. So, I offer you this thought as a Christmas present, but you can unwrap it right now. Try it on…it will fit you perfectly.

“Let there be light!” and there was light. That was a long time ago.
“Oh, I understand!” and the light came on in a human mind. More recently.
“Turn on the lamp, please.” Flip a switch and the darkness goes away. Just now.
“I am the Light of the world.” Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Eternal Light.
“Aren’t the stars beautiful tonight!” A Bethlehem sky. If only we could hear the angels sing.
Listen.

Did I miss the moment? Have I waited too long?
The words sound flat and the melody’s wrong.
Have I squandered the moment to sing my song,
to hold you close where you belong?
Tell me I haven’t missed the chance
to take your hand for the final dance.

It’s always so hard to say goodbye.
Time doesn’t wait; with a tear and a sigh
the last rays of sunlight vanish from sight;
the music stops; all becomes night.

But darkness does not control the light,
for in an instant, when all is right,
the song begins and then the sight,
transforming the darkness, soft then bright
to show the way to Love’s embrace,
seen now in every beautiful face
of those you blessed along life’s way,
all you befriended in former days,
when, in their need, they turned to you,
and in Christ’s Way, you saw them through.
And now they’ve come to welcome you
in the name of Him whose words are true:
“See, beloved; I make all things new.”

I wish for a waking when I can spring from my bed with refreshed energy to embrace the new day and dance into the morning, mind snappy, muscles alert, movement fluid. This is what I wish for, Maker of Mornings, Designer of All Days.

But, my alarm this morning was not the hum of my old alarm clock. It was the echo of a little voice heard yesterday on the playground at the elementary school where I volunteer. The little guy, a kindergartner, ran past me, bounding and leaping like an excited puppy out for his first romp, when he stopped abruptly, spun around and with a loud and amazed voice called back to me: “You’re old!” Then off he went to tumble in the grass and find delight in the fresh morning.

Later, when recess was done and all the little ones were herded back to the classrooms, there he was again, this time laughing with a friend as he galloped past me. “Goodbye, old man!” he called out with a wave and a smile. I waved back but he was already gone into another adventure, another moment of wonder and discovery. The little boy in my charge, standing next to me, heard the words and saw the wave, then with a puzzled look on his face, asked me: “How old are you?” I replied: “Well, how old do you think I am?” He paused. I waited. He smiled one of those beautiful, innocent smiles as he looked me over and made his mental calculations. “Twenty-three” he said with just a little sound of uncertainty in his voice. “You’re close” I told him as he spun around and darted toward his classroom.

That, I thought to myself, was the upper limit of his age scale; old in his kindergarten eyes. Had I told him eighty-four it would not have registered. I’m beyond his calculations. Upon reflection, I am so grateful for those moments because I had the privilege of being embraced by pure, innocent inquiry, by wonder. Both little guys were so genuine in ways that only a little child can be. “Goodbye, old man.” “Twenty-three.”

Lord, I wish for a morning when I can spring from my bed, dance my way into the day, turn cartwheels in the joy of my body’s strength, see beyond all limitations real and imagined. But we both know that won’t happen. So, Morning Maker, Giver of Grace, Source of Precious Life, thank you for waves and smiles and laughter and innocence, for exuberant joy and for amazing moments. And thank you that my heart can still see better than my trifocaled eyes. I am blessed, no matter what the calendar says.

Let me tell you a story. I won’t hold it against you if you don’t believe it. I don’t believe it, either. Last Monday night I met with a wonderful group of people to talk about the season of Advent. The specific topic was the word “Peace.” I led the group discussion which seemed to center around the question: “How do we find peace in this crazy world? What do we do to make it and keep it?” All nine of us wrestled with the question for a couple of hours, and concluded that “it’s not easy.” For reasons I cannot explain, I felt it important to say: We have within us the capacities to make peace right now. There is no need to ask God to bring peace, even to show us how to do it. The Spirit, the Christ, lives within us and we can choose to “be” peace in all our relationships and circumstances. We have what we need: Christ in us. Let’s let God off the hook.

When I got home Monday night after the meeting, that thought kept a place in my mind. A little later I picked a book off my shelf, one of those “I’ll read a minute to get sleepy” moments. I chose a book at random, one that seemed to be sticking out a little from the others, one that didn’t register in my memory. I didn’t even recognize the title or the author. When I opened the book, it was heavily underlined, indicating that I had, indeed, read it sometime. And the underlines led me right back into the conversation earlier in the evening. No, I didn’t just forget that I had read it recently. No, it had no role in my preparation for the discussion. It was a stunning confirmation of this basic idea: Life is a journey from separation to connection, from individuality to commonality, from “me” to “us”. The purpose of life is to “come home”…to come back to completeness. Jesus meant it when he said “I am in you and you are in me.” If I dare to believe that, and dare to act on that belief, guess what happens. Peace. Contentment. Joy. A new sense of Hope. These wonderful things are the result of one fundamental reality. I have what I ask for…and more…in me. What I must do is accept that reality and live it. If I want peace, I must be peace. And “being peace” is one more step in the fulfillment of my life…coming home, living each moment in the conscious presence of the spiritual reality I call God.

I’m still delightfully puzzled by this experience, and I regard it as a gift, which I now “re-gift” to you. You have what you need to be who you are. We are all trying to figure out how to reconnect with that deep, deep internal hint of The Holy, for the re-connection is the fullness of life. Maybe Nike was right: Just do it!

On this first Sunday of Advent, let me suggest a few questions for your consideration. First, though, a reminder: Advent is a four week spiritual preparation time leading up to the celebration of Christmas and the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. It is a particularly important time in the life of the church and of all Christians as we recognize the enormity of a mystery: God became a human being in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. The fullness of God is known in the life of Jesus. So, to encourage you to meditate and reflect in this four-week period, I pose these “simple” questions:

1. How will this season of Advent be the same and/or different from previous years?
2. What will you do to turn Advent from a word or thought into a specific reality?
3. How will you find ways to observe Advent, not only as an individual Christian, but also in community. In other words, how will you move Advent from a “me” experience to a “we” experience?

I think that last question is very important. While we usually put the message and teachings of Jesus into rather personal terms, I believe a close reading of the Gospels reveals the mind and message of Jesus to be much more collective, inclusive and universal that we traditionally think. But the point is this: don’t skim over Advent waiting for the joy of Christmas. If you do, you will have missed four weeks of deeply moving messages that never age. Let Advent speak to you…and through you. Look for the blessing; rejoice in the finding; and then give it away.

In spite of headlines and heartaches,
I will be thankful.

Facing uncertainties with my
friends and neighbors, yet I
will remain thankful.

I will look deeply into the moment,
I will focus on things that add
beauty to life, and I will be
grateful.

And yet…there will remain a
cavern in my soul, a place that
no feast can fill, where no table
is set, a place where human
suffering gnaws the flesh of
my bones.

I will sit at the Thanksgiving table today and
I will swallow the morsel of the merry, truly
grateful, but anguished and angered at the
suffering of those who look over my shoulder
and wish for a taste of kindness and a place
at our feasts of abundance.

Yesterday was an unusual day in the Sonoran Desert. Rain fell almost all day long. Rain! That wonderful experience that everyone dreams about, prays for in July and August. The skies even thundered in the late evening. Car headlights came on automatically, water filled the potholes in the street, and Thanksgiving Day shoppers ran from their cars into the grocery store as if they might melt in the downpour. One dripping customer was overheard to say: “That lousy rain. Why didn’t it come down on a day when I didn’t have to shop!” You’re right…the same guy who sat in church in August and said: “Lord, Lord…”

Two observations. First, be careful what you pray for. You might get it. And, second, life doesn’t always seem to take my convenience into account. Obviously, the rain did not know that I was planning to shop yesterday. Bad timing. So, from those of us who feel entitled and exasperated, this announcement: I plan to drive over to San Diego soon, and when I do, I would appreciate a nice sunny day, minimal traffic, lowered gas prices (it is California!) and no radar traps on the Interstate. I will restate my requirements (requests) this morning in church when we all pray together. There you have it. That’s that. Amen.

What if every bird in every sky in every country was a Robin? No exceptions. Boring. Or, every flower in every meadow a bluebonnet? We would get tired of blue. Or the only sandwich you could order at every sandwich shop was ham and cheese? Uniformity has its place, but diversity adds so much richness to life. In my adolescent days, sameness saved me in most social circles. Just blend in. Hang out with people who wore the same styles, spoke the same lingo, shared my likes and dislikes. But one day, post-adolescence, I tasted Hawaiian Pineapple ice cream instead of vanilla, and I had to rethink my life. The road to diversity can be bumpy at first, and a little scary, but there were benefits to knowing that the ice cream shop sold 31 different flavors.

This wonderful creation, presented in enormous diversity, ought to be a clue about living. Difference was designed into the fabric of life. On purpose. Intentionally. And so when I sit with a circle of friends, I fill my plate with diversity and most often I come away from the feast of friendship quite satisfied, or challenged, or wiser. I continue to be pleasantly amazed that Jesus regarded everyone as a potential friend, regardless of social position, personal wealth, or human accomplishments. So, maybe there is a benefit or two for us in looking at human diversity as a gift rather than a problem.

Dr. Suzanne Degges-White, in an article in Psychology Today (July 2020), makes the point. The benefits of diverse friendships, she writes are:

1. Exposure to valuable new perspectives on life; examples of how one transitions from one way of understanding things to a different way.
2. Chances to learn more about the world, which, by the way, is much bigger than our limited views.
3. Awareness that challenges and even confrontations are common to everyone.
4. Learning, growing, developing by asking questions of someone about life experience, cultural heritage, successes and failures.
5. Opportunities, not just to learn from someone else, but to share your own life, to mentor, and contribute to another person’s human growth.

Socially, culturally, politically, and spiritually, let’s move beyond “Me-My-Mine” to “We.” Maybe there are 35 flavors…some yet to be discovered.