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A Deep Breath of Life, Alan Cohen, build, building trust, future, harmony, kingdom of heaven, love, nurture, spiritual life, Tagore, temple, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, truth
Since our Sophia Center Advisory Board meeting on Tuesday, I have been drawn back several times to thoughts of our future and about the best ways to help people engage in consideration of their spiritual lives. It seems less important these days to dream of large events with nationally known speakers – my fondest hope at our inception. What we have experienced as more useful is the value of deep conversation and building trust in the small groups that find meaning in the exchange of ideas. (Not that I’ve given up hope of major events, of course…) We will continue to seek input for programs and events, of course, and welcome any suggestions.
I was encouraged by the advice of Alan Cohen this morning (A Deep Breath of Life) who expanded on an adage of Tagore: While God waits for His temple to be built of love, men bring stones. Cohen offers the following thoughts.
What is it that you must build? Because we are spiritual beings, we must nurture our thoughts and attitudes above all else. If we think in harmony with truth, the outer forms will take care of themselves. “Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven, and all else shall be added unto you.”
So on we go…
I never liked the task of pruning. Even removing the suckers from tomato plants seemed too destructive and painful (for me as well as the plant!) People told me it was important for the plant that I remove the suckers – and even branches from growing trees. I thought it was just to make everything look neat and even beautiful. It was my least favorite task in outdoor work until I read an article that told me “the sucker should be removed to prevent it from sucking away the plant’s energy.” (
Today’s gospel picks up yesterday’s conversation (JN 14), known as the “farewell discourse.” Moving on from the extraordinary verse where Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth and the life,” Jesus is speaking now about his unity with God. “If you know me, then you will know my Father,” he says. “From now on you do know him and have seen him.” It is an enthusiastic Philip, I think, who jumps in saying, “Master, show us the Father and that will be enough for us!”
There seem to be lots of reasons to get moving this morning and greet the day with anticipation. The reasons don’t come from the outside; the day (as much as I can determine it from the vantage point of my bedroom window) is looking rather dismal. But the lectionary readings declare the truth that the earth is full of the goodness of the Lord and the verse before the gospel shouts out the recognition that this is the day that the Lord has made! Rather like “Wake up!” or “Don’t miss it!” that declarative is followed with the imperative: Let us be glad and rejoice in it!
Sometimes the strangest thoughts bubble up when I’m reading the Scriptures for the day. This year we’re reading Mark and today’s section is the familiar story of the Transfiguration (9:2-10). None of the gospels provides all the details for any story but Mark is especially brief – the first written and shortest gospel. In some cases it’s like reading shorthand. Over the years I’ve become brave enough to try filling in some of the blanks in the stories. I doubt it can hurt; it’s not dogmatic teaching but just conjecture for my own deeper understanding. I think of it as a kind of similar activity to that of movie makers who try to give us pictures to accompany the most visual texts – not always successfully, I might add.
Two things occur to me as I read the lectionary texts for this First Sunday of Lent. Initially, as the sky clears after a night of snow here, Genesis announces God’s promise of the covenant that never again shall all bodily creatures be destroyed by the waters of a flood. I muse that I haven’t seen a rainbow – that amazing sign of God’s covenant – for a very long time. It’s not that I haven’t looked, nor do I think God has had a change of mind, but it does make one wonder – in light of all the devastating floods this past year – if we are paying enough attention. Happily we now know the vastness of the world as well as the cooperation that has been manifested after each tragedy, allowing the restoration of stricken areas through generosity and teamwork.
Jealousy is a very dangerous trait in a person. It seems to me a bit more serious than envy although it appears in the dictionary as envy’s synonym. I might be envious of someone’s good looks or good luck but, if I have a positive attitude about my own life, I don’t spend a lot of time comparing my lot with those of others. If jealousy takes hold of my life, however, it can lead to wishing harm to others – sometimes instigating events that will cause very bad things to happen.
I took a vacation from the news over the long weekend just concluded. I think we have a responsibility to stay informed but sometimes we just need a break. Consequently, I just spent almost a half-hour reading all sorts of headlines from internet news services to see what I had missed. There weren’t many surprises and I surmise that’s because many groups and individuals were sitting things out, just as I did. It’s interesting surfing like that, however – a good way to have a birds-eye view of what we see as important as a culture. There are still threats from North Korea and the White House (which I do not mean to dismiss!) as well as legislative issues and stories – serious ones – about the weather. I found nothing about the deeper concerns of our spiritual well-being, however, so my “two cents” this morning as we get back to the routine of life in this new year will be what I think is a very important point for reflection from Thomas Merton.
Sometimes it seems too difficult to tell “the whole truth and nothing but the truth” when such speaking will reveal a fault or failing about ourselves. It seems much easier to obfuscate – a great word that means to obscure, blur or overcomplicate things so we don’t look so bad in the eyes of other people. The difficulty with this practice is that it doesn’t make us feel better because we have hidden our true self; rather we feel worse. The irony is that many times the failure we’re trying to cover up is so minor that we are the only ones who would judge it harshly if it were known. Everyone else would easily forgive the imperfection.
I read something from Macrina Wiederkehr’s book, sevensacredpauses, this morning that made me smile, especially given what I wrote yesterday. I think it’s worth sharing.