Morning Light

Tags

Celtic Benediction, John Philip Newell, light, morning, see, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

For today, a post as short as yesterday’s entry was long. From J. Philip Newell, a prayer:

For the first showings of the morning light and the emerging outline of the day thanks be to you, O God. For earth’s colors drawn forth by the sun and its brilliance piercing clouds of darkness and shimmering through leaves and flowing waters thanks be to you. Show me this day amidst life’s dark streaks of wrong and suffering the light that endures in every person. Dispel the confusions that cling close to my soul that I may see with eyes washed by your grace, that I may see myself and all people with eyes cleansed by the freshness of of the day’s new light.

And the author’s closing counsel: Pray for the coming day and for the life of the world.(Celtic Benediction, p. 40)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Solidarity

Tags

caravan, christians, community, conscious work, consciousness, Jewish Community Center, Jews, judgment, Muslims, pray, refugees, solidarity, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, vigil, Wisdom Schools

I had two experiences yesterday that, upon reflection, help me to understand more deeply what it means to “walk in the shoes of another” – at least in some small way.

1. I took our house car to the local garage in the afternoon to have new tires installed. The mechanic told me that the process would take about an hour. As we needed a couple of items from the grocery store that I judged to be about a mile away, I decided to walk there in the interim. I had already thought about going for a walk while the process was completed but had estimated about half the time – and half the distance to the grocery store. It had been raining off and on but my windbreaker with a hood gave me sufficient protection and I had donned my best walking shoes in preparation. The road is a “country highway” – two-lanes, no sidewalks but with sufficient “shoulders” to keep me out of the way of the speeding cars and occasional trucks. The only issue (in addition to the minor splash of passing cars on a wet road) was the condition of those shoulders: broken pavement and in some places muddy patches of grass. The walk was, to coin a phrase, more than I had bargained for. I haven’t been walking much during the past year and my estimate of the distance was about a half a mile short, but soon after I began I decided to make this an exercise of what our Wisdom Schools call conscious work, uniting myself with the “caravan” of refugees walking through the countries of Central America. By doing that, the trek was not easier but my determination got me there and back in a way that was deeply meaningful. I considered the feet of those people and the terrain they tread each day. When carrying the rather small bundle of food on my return trip, I thought of parents carrying their children and all the possessions they could pack on their backs. When it began to rain again, I prayed for their safety and health and recognized how very privileged a life I lead. It took me just over an hour, including the stop at the store, until I wrote a check for the tires (knowing we had the money in the bank), slid into the car (knowing there was gas to power it) and drove home in warmth and ease in five minutes.

2. I felt drawn to the prayer vigil in our town last evening at the Jewish Community Center for the people of Pittsburgh. I knew it would be crowded but the gathering space is large and the parking lots quite expansive. When I arrived, it was already past sunset and in the gathering darkness I saw people streaming from every direction toward the venue. The parking lots were already full so I backtracked to the Catholic church a block away, grateful that their back lot still had a place for me – although far back from the road. As I joined the steady stream of walkers, I felt like we were going toward the Temple Mount in Jerusalem or some such holy place to beg for solace as the weight of all the hatred and senseless violence overtook me. I was one with the throng of pilgrims going to prayer in sorrow but solidarity. There must have been over 500 people there as all the seats were taken and there were as many of us standing close together in every nook and cranny of the building as there were sitting. For our rather small community, that was amazing. We were Jews and Christians, Muslims and most likely others who might call themselves “Nones” – professing no religion but standing in solidarity because there seemed no other place to be last night that would satisfy. The messages were of love, not hate, of community and willingness, of unity as a way to move through sadness and shock. I recognized very few of the people there but walking back to my car in the darkness, I felt the strength of communion and it was enough.

I am different because of these events of yesterday. There is a deeper, visceral consciousness in me of how everything is connected in this world. It is no longer as theoretical a concept as it was yesterday morning and if I continue to hold the world in this deeper way, I trust that it will continue to grow. It is as if what has just happened as I look out and up to see blue sky and a large white cloud over the mountain announcing sunrise is happening not just outside but within me as well. I now (I hope) will walk with the refugees and will add my voice to those who choose them as brothers and sisters. I will pray for my Jewish sisters and brothers and speak for gun control whenever an opportunity arises. More than anything I will try to love well and leave judgments out of my conversation, and I will pray for peace, the peace that only love can give.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Who Are We To Be?

Tags

be the light, compassionate, Ephesians, imitators of God, kind, love, massacre, murder, pray, St. Paul, Thanksgiving, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Tree of Life Synagogue

I’m happy this morning for a tiny bit of good news: The Boston Red Sox won the World Series last night! (Sorry, I was born and half-raised in Newton, a suburb of Boston, and it’s generally impossible to get that heritage out of a girl!) I consider, however, as I revel in that news, how complex we are – able to entertain that kind of celebratory feeling at the same time as sensing such anguish for the people of Pittsburgh who are suffering the heinous crime of the Tree of Life Synagogue massacre. One hardly knows how to hold it all, especially because the murder of those innocent people follows on the heels of two other incidents of senseless killing in the same week. Things seem to be devolving into a deeper darkness with each day’s news. The questions now come from a place of near-frozenness: When and where does this stop? What will it take to cause a course change?

My answers all seem theoretical but the only option. Gather together. Love the people you know with a mighty love and the people you are just meeting in the same way. Be the light that you wish to see in the world. Do small things in a big way, fueled by compassion…

I read it all this morning in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians – exhortation from 2,000 years ago and still relevant! Brothers and sisters: be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving one another as God has forgiven you…Be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love…Immorality or any impurity or greed must not even be mentioned among you, as is fitting among holy ones, no obscenity or silly or suggestive talk, which is out of place, but instead, thanksgiving…Live as children of light.

May it be so in our day. Let us pray.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rev. Thomas Keating

Tags

A Sleep of Prisoners, Bartimaeus, breathing, centering prayer, Christopher Fry, Father Thomas Keating, Jesus, letting go, Mark, prayer, presence of God, rest in peace, see, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

I just read the gospel story of the blind man, Bartimaeus. (MK 10: 46-52). My favorite line has Bartimaeus answering the question Jesus had put to him when he called out for attention. Actually both lines of the exchange are crucial. Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” to which Bartimaeus answers, “Master, I want to see.” Upon reflection one might ask why Jesus needed to pose that question as it must have been obvious that the man was blind. It certainly wasn’t a trivial request. The fact that Jesus asked it, however, might move us to consider some deeper content in our own prayer.

Does our prayer sound like a Christmas list sometimes, asking God to fix things in our lives so that we will be more comfortable than we are? Surely we are called to ask for help to live good lives and have compassion for others but in these troubled times when events and world conditions are now “soul size” (see A Sleep of Prisoners by Christopher Fry) we must be called to new ways of participating in life.

Father Thomas Keating died on Thursday (10/25) at the age of 95 years. Fr. Thomas is known to many as the father of the Centering Prayer movement and a spiritual giant who personified the best of a life of contemplative prayer. I was privileged to encounter Father Thomas twice in person and found him to be delightfully down-to-earth while also shining like the sun from the inside. His deep practice of prayer was evident in the joy with which he lived and in the deeply wise, carefully chosen words he used to speak of spiritual things. It was clear that his way of prayer was deeper than words, however, and leaned in, always listening, to the heartbeat of God.

Centering prayer is like that, Fr. Thomas would say. It consists of sitting down and “consenting to the presence of God,” returning, when we recognize that we are thinking, to just being in the Presence, letting go of everything else. Just like breathing, this kind of prayer gets patterned into us and becomes an anchor for life. Hundreds of thousands of people the world over practice this form of prayer each day and are united now in feelings of happiness and sadness at the same time: sadness to have lost the physical presence of Father Thomas in this realm but, oh so happy to think of his joyful passage into the next! May he truly rest in peace!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Barren Fig Tree

Tags

cultivate, flowering, God's time, patience, perseverance, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

The lectionary gospel for today tells the story of the fig tree which for three years after it had been planted had produced no fruit, such that the owner told his gardener to cut it down. The gardener must have been a compassionate environmentalist as he responded in the following way: “Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future.” Instantly I had the image before me of a small plant that my family had bought in memory of my father. We had wanted a hydrangea bush and planted it in a place we thought it would thrive. For six years we waited for some sign of life. We should have known from the branches that were tightly entwined but very tree-like that it was not what we had ordered but this was many years ago and none of us was very savvy about the plant world.

One summer we had a volunteer groundskeeper who suggested moving the plant since it did not seem dead, just not thriving. She situated it in another part of the yard in a different kind of soil that got a different amount of sunlight each day. The next spring it produced leaves and shoots and let us know that she was, in fact, not a hydrangea at all but a beautiful hibiscus that only needed to be recognized and situated correctly in order to grow! I often bless the mistake of the salesperson who must have been new to the work or mixed up words beginning with the letter “H” because the result was better than we could have imagined.

Sometimes it does take a long time – even for people – to find their place and grow as we are all meant to do. It takes patience and nurturing perseverance to wait for the flowering. Would that we could always allow and encourage that in each other with no timeline in mind before we give up. There is only God’s time, i.e. the present moment for this kind of gardening.

 

 

 

 

 

Communication

Tags

book group, books, communication, Cynthia Bourgeault, guest, technology, The Great American Read, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, The Wisdom Jesus, women

Over the last few days I have been frustrated in my attempts to connect with people by using my computer. I type messages that end up in my outbox rather than being sent. I find it surprising that I have no emails for a whole day (but what a gift that seems!) and then 22 messages appear at once! I try to fill out a registration form for an upcoming appointment and am unable at the last question to press “enter” or “save.” And in all of this frustration, I know that I am not alone.

I know as well that I cannot stop technological progress and as long as I resist, I am the loser. Technology has brought us so many amazing gifts. Grandparents who live at a distance from newborn children can see and watch them grow in real time. I was once allowed on a zoom call to meet with Sisters in Japan, Peru, Hawaii and three locations on the mainland U.S.A. at the same time. I participated this week with millions of folks across the country and beyond in the finale of The Great American Read sponsored by the Public Broadcasting System, celebrating in the end the “crowning” of To Kill A Mockingbird as the favorite novel of all time – a reminder of the great privilege of the access to books (electronic or on paper) and gratitude for the enthusiasm of readers everywhere.

In spite of all these technological wonders, however, I still hold to my preference for face-to-face human conversation. I spent a lovely day yesterday with eight women who wanted to talk about Cynthia Bourgeault’s book, The Wisdom Jesus. While we did, in fact, concern ourselves in some measure with that text and information about the author herself, we cast a wide net in consideration of faith, Church, spiritual practice and experiences as well as some personal sharing in the mix. The women are all members of the same parish and clearly care for one another. Diverse in age and experience, their desire to share their thoughts and feelings overcame the necessity of staying on schedule or covering material that had been proposed. In spite of the light cover of snow on the lawn outside I felt, at the end of our time, as if we had spent a day at the beach together, basking in the warmth of the sun, then testing the water – some just standing on the edge, others up to their knees and a few diving at intervals into the depths of a new ocean. The sharing is its own reward and I, as the invited guest, am the lucky one to have had this infusion of spirit on a glorious Thursday in late October.

 

 

 

 

 

 

From Ephesus to Us

Tags

blessings, Ephesians, faith, God, knowledge, love, love of Christ, spirit, St. Paul, strength, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Yesterday I said that I sometimes count on the words of others for the best message of the day. Today I can do no better than the section of St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians which appears in our lectionary readings. It is, I think, one of Paul’s best blessings and my most fervent wish for all of us.

Brothers and sisters: I kneel before the Father, from whom every family on earth is named, that God may grant you in accord with the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with power through the Spirit in your inner self, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the holy ones what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses all knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. (EPH 3:14-20)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Words of My Own

Tags

care, heart, inspiration, Joyce Rupp, love, open our hearts, Peace, Prayer Seeds, respect, solace, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, words, worthy

Sometimes it’s necessary to count on the words of others for inspiration or solace. That’s one of the primary reasons for my frequent references to biblical texts or modern inspirational writers at this season when bad news seems to vie with inclement weather to wipe out most, if not all, spiritual energy. Joyce Rupp is my “saving grace” this morning with the conclusion to a prayer service for peace in her book, Prayer Seeds. May it be a motivator for you as well.

Peace-Bringer, create in me a heart filled with the kind of love that reflects your own. Send this love to those I care about and respect. Open my mind to those I want to reject. Open my heart to those I prefer to avoid. Open my eyes to see beyond the surface of individuals and recognize your presence in each one. May my thoughts, words and deeds be devoid of violence in any form. Soften whatever is hardened in my heart so that I bring your peace wherever I go. Remind me often that I, too, am in need of this love and worthy to receive it. (p. 53)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being There

Tags

compassion, difficulty, Jesus, letting God be God, love God, prayer, resistance, suffering, surrender, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, trials, unite

There has been a lot of bad news lately – some global, some personal involving people that I love. My typical response to all of it (as maybe for many of us) is to try to make things better. I am lately finding it difficult to trust my ability to do anything and so am shifting to what some people would call “letting God be God.” What that involves sometimes looks like passivity, and it does involve surrender to what is, but it seems more sensible than being against anything which involves resistance and pushing when there is a wall in the way.

What is left when one gives up trying to fix things, it seems to me, is compassion – a feeling with others. It involves presence – physically if possible and long distance if necessary – and mindfulness of the struggles of others. It certainly could lead to action if that seems the best course, but if we unite ourselves to others who are suffering without losing a deep conviction of hope that does not necessarily depend on outcome  I believe that we may find ourselves to be agents of consolation. Additionally, our own prayer may be helpful in adding light to the world.

I realize that all of this (if it makes sense at all) may elicit from some people a reaction of “easy for you to say.” I have been much blessed in my life and have not personally suffered extreme trials. When life has been difficult in some way I have been gifted with the strength of companions whose compassion truly has made a difference and helped me move on. I suppose that is the point of all these thoughts…so the conclusion may simply be for all of us to cultivate good relationships, being faithful to them and to a serious effort to develop compassion in the manner of Jesus who emptied himself of himself in love for the life of the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

God’s Handiwork

Tags

being, blessing, doing, God's handiwork, lesson, love, psalm 100, reality, sing joyfully, Sisters of St. Joseph, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, work

People often ask me these days if I am retired. I’m no longer shocked at the question, especially since I am now 70 years old (an amazing statistic that still surprises me sometimes!). I have been blessed thus far with good health and am grateful for meaningful and creative work that continues to present itself.

This morning I was reminded in two of the lectionary readings of this blessing. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul is talking about faith and says, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus for good works that God has prepared in advance, that we should live in them.” Psalm 100 follows this theme, opening with a call to “Sing joyfully to the Lord, all you lands; serve the Lord with gladness; come before God with joyful song!”

On Saturday, I spent the day with over a hundred Sisters of St. Joseph – a few younger and many older than myself. Many of these women are retired from active ministry but virtually all of them continue to understand the truth that we are God’s handiwork. This, then, becomes for all of us the most important “work,” calling us daily to love as God has loved us. It is about our being rather than about our doing. For some of us that is a difficult lesson but once learned, it makes all the difference. It is my hope to have totally accepted that reality when all I have left for others is love.