“Come Away”

Tags

come away, courage, dancing, deep reflection, evil, fear, fearless, Hebrew Scriptures, Psalm 23, spiritual practices, stillness, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Wisdom School

“Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil, for you are at my side. With your rod and your staff you give me courage.”

These words from Psalm 23, probably the best known of all the psalms in the Hebrew Scriptures, jumped out at me this morning. Then I read that Jesus called his apostles to come away from the crush of the crowds “to a deserted place” for some rest – most likely, for a chance to gain some clarity and reassess what was happening so as to refuel for the re-entry into the ministry that was theirs.

Having arrived in Stonington, Maine yesterday to the shared joy of being with a dozen colleagues whose presence I have enjoyed variously at different “wisdom schools” over the past ten years, I am aware of a similar call to “come away” for fearless and deep reflection on our call to meet the challenges in our country today. Our work will be rigorous and internal, but work it will surely be. Perhaps the outcome will be so subtle as to go undetected by “the crowds” but we will surely be more committed to our spiritual practices and more certain that there is a way forward, although its evolution may still be in seed, thereby impossible to comprehend.

This message itself may be similarly “impossible to comprehend” but I am reminded of a quote on a card that has been in my small treasure box for decades. It says: In the stillness is the dancing, and this morning, that is enough for me to know.

Conversation

Tags

accessible, conversation, deep reflection, energy, engage, forward, gatherings, ideas, meditation, million women march, open possibility, retreats, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

I keep having conversations lately about the importance of conversation. I’m not talking about chatter but rather deep and meaningful conversation. It isn’t always necessary to know where the conversation will lead; it’s more important just to engage and stay open to possibility.

I was in a meeting yesterday about a series we’re planning in March on the broad topic of meditation. We three had begun the conversation before Thanksgiving, did some preliminary planning and were thinking, I’m sure, that we would have a good handle on things by the end of yesterday’s session. Oh yes, and we were probably all guessing we would be finished within about an hour. We spent the requisite preliminary moments of “catch-up” about the holidays and the world situation (although treading lightly there so as not to get side-tracked). As we moved into the review of what we were planning it seemed we were almost starting over and covering the same ground with different outcomes – or no firm direction. Trying to nail down something that would be broadly interesting and accessible to multiple age groups and spiritual disciplines is never easy and I could feel at least two of the three of us getting a little tense (just a bit) about whether or not we would have made any progress in the end. Having reviewed where we had been and where we seemed to be, we each took pieces of the work for follow-up. Feeling somewhat better, we turned to the topic of a title for our series and I once again understood how process is its own reward if we allow it the space it needs to work.

Over the next five minutes we all threw out into the center of the room numerous insipid ideas. Next, slowing down and adding pauses to allow our words a bit of spaciousness before we rejected them, we added some reasoning around those that had potential. Then, in a flash, one of us offered a three-word title and another added a sub-title and finally all three said, “That’s it!” There was no question; we had our framework for going forward, a way to contextualize with the presenters and engage potential participants that could make the events worthwhile. I realized, as I often do now, that it was the entire conversation and the energy around all of our sharing that produced the result.

I have heard of many gatherings being planned for the purpose of deep reflection in the near future. Some involve small circles of folks who know each other, some are retreats drawing participants from far and wide. And then there is the million-woman march in Washington on January 21st. It is my hope that all of the energy generated in all these conversations will lead to raising the consciousness of participants to unity of purpose and will. May it be so in this very important year!

The Longest Psalm

Tags

art, believe, deep reflection, Hebrew, illusions, lunch with the psalms, psalm 119, self-deception, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

During our weekly “Lunch with the Psalms” group yesterday the first topic was the length of psalm 119, part of which was the selection of the day in the Scripture readings. The text contained eight sequential verses. Today, however, there are eight more verses from different sections but they seem to work as a unified whole. See what you think.

Save me from the choice of self-deception. Let all your words become for me a living grace that I might hear your inner word, your deep instruction. Lord, your words and ways are firmly stretched across the heavens. As you yourself instructed, I’ll turn my feet away from every evil on this path through life, and gain your understanding of what is real or mere illusion.

The entire psalm is quite extraordinary, with 22 stanzas each containing 8 verses (176 verses in all – the longest psalm). Each of the stanzas begins with one of the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet (in sequence), which gives its name to the stanza. Scholars think that the psalm was intended as a manual of pious thoughts, especially for the instruction of the young, and that the structure used as a memory aid in retaining the language.

I am awed by what could have been a stilted attempt to fit the thoughts to the structure but which became a work of art, offering the opportunity for deep reflection  and transformation at every turn. As I read again the selection for this morning, I see the unlimited possibility for spiritual growth offered by the cry of the psalmist in the very first line. If that is our motivation, the rest can become our practice, taking us to the ultimate realization of truth.