Tags
be not afraid, curious, end of life, fear, Hafiz, human, Meg Wheatley, perseverance, positive, present, spiritual tradition, Sufi, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
As often happens lately on Friday mornings, I sit down to write and wonder where the week went. Time seems to pass more quickly as we get older. People have told me that for years and I accepted it but now I know it from the inside. As a consequence of that thought, next comes a wondering about the stretch of life before me. How long will I be here? What will be my experiences, accomplishments, abilities? Will I maintain the health I have been blessed with? How will I face the end of my life?
To be honest, I rarely worry about the answers to those questions, primarily because I am trying to live in the present and because I trust that, whatever happens, divine grace will accompany me. I raise the topic today because of conversations I have had with older friends and with frequent reports of accidents and illnesses of others. As well, I opened Meg Wheatley’s book, Perseverance, this morning at random and the page that stared back at me was a reflection entitled Fear.
Normally I would shy away from talking about what are considered negative emotions because I prefer to stay in a positive mode of thinking, yet given the state of our country and my awareness of all the fear that is manifesting in personal and communal encounters lately I decided to read Wheatley’s comments and pass on what I found to be of value. As usual, I could just copy the entire entry – Meg Wheatley has a way of making good sense – but even the first few lines will do, I think. She says:
Fear is just part of human life. It’s so common that every great spiritual tradition includes the injunction: “Be not afraid.” If fear is this fundamental to being human, we can expect that we’ll feel afraid at times, perhaps even frequently. Yet when fear appears, we don’t have to worry that we’ve failed, or take it as a sign that we’re not as good as other people. In fact, we’re just like other people. Fear is simple evidence that we’re human. What’s important to decide is what to do with our fear…(p. 71)
The author suggests moving toward our fear, being curious about it, not asking why we’re afraid but rather investigating the feeling itself which can often dissipate the strength of the emotion in the process. Whether or not this is the way to proceed, my intent was simply to bring the topic to our consciousness for examination in our own lives, having been reminded that fear is, in fact, just part of living on earth. To conclude, I do want to add the quote that is a standard feature of every topic in Wheatley’s book, this one a short word from the 14th century Sufi poet Hafiz. It made me smile. He says:
Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.
It’s been raining – torrents and thunder-filled sometimes – for the past three days. Yesterday it was if the divine weatherman was playing with us. Drenching downpours were followed by moments of sun peeking out of big gray clouds – then rain again…Even this morning the deck behind our house is puddle-strewn. I look out at the trees, rain soaked as well, but shining now in full sun. What a relief! I never mind the rain but when we begin to hear of flooding streams I know it’s all too much for the farmers and I pray for the balance to be restored. So today it feels as if God is saying, “Wake up! All your sluggishness is washed away! New possibilities await you!” and I sing a response with the psalmist in a translation by Nan Merrill.
The lectionary readings for this seventh Sunday of Easter find us between an ending and a new beginning and we, in the same manner as the disciples, need to be willing to sit in this empty space, reflecting on what has been and waiting for the movement of the Spirit to call us once again to a courageous future.
Quotes from Pendle Hill: Today’s quote comes from The Art of Possibility by Rosamund Stone Zander and Benjamin Zander.
The gospel for today is Matthew’s version of the Transfiguration of Jesus on the mountain. I understand the desire of Jesus to take time away in a quiet place to be alone as it seems he often did. I might have chosen the Sea of Galilee as my getaway, but the hills might have been a better bet for Jesus as a total escape from people. One could wonder why on this particular day he chose to take Peter, James and John with him. Did he know what was going to happen? Was he afraid he would need help if the depth of experience got too intense? Or did he just have a desire to have some quiet time with less than a dozen companions?
“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.”
In the past 48 hours we have seen in person, on television, the internet or in newspapers a number of very large gatherings of committed people. Some participants simply support the democratic process of the transfer of political power in the United States but the majority were present on Friday and yesterday to raise their voices for or against our new president. We remain a deeply divided country in this way.
For the first time in over a week, I awoke this morning in darkness. It was 5:50AM and although it was only the light on my phone that allowed me that information, sleep had already fled and it seemed I was being called to pay attention. So here I am awash in thoughts of light and darkness, blindness and sight. Isaiah 29 promises today that out of gloom and darkness, the eyes of the blind shall see while Psalm 27 hurls into the dark a declaration in answer to – perhaps – our own question: The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear? The psalmist goes on in confidence attesting to the belief that he shall see the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living and urging us to wait for the Lord with courage; be stouthearted and wait for the Lord. Matthew’s Jesus cures two blind men and I begin to wonder why he warned them (sternly, the story says) to see that no one knows about this – a directive that they totally ignore. Perhaps there is some deep value here about holding things in our hearts.
In her book Psalms for Praying: An Invitation to Wholeness, Joyce Rupp has a stunningly beautiful rendering of today’s lectionary psalm (145) that seems quite apt for our time. Let it be our prayer and hope for this day.
