Welcome

Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning



Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Tired


“We all grow tired eventually; it happens to everyone. Even the sun, at the close of the year, is no longer a morning person.”
                                                                           Joyce Rachelle
_______________________________________________

I’m tired

Oh, I keep moving
I keep putting one foot in front of the other

I keep getting up
Keep taking walks with Finn the dog
Keep taking pictures

I keep teaching people to manage pain
And keep writing sermons

But I am tired
Exhaustion has woven its way through the fabric of my being
Until I am not longer full awake
Perhaps no longer fully alive

At times I feel more like a robot than a person
With muscles that are simply weak, as if they do not have enough oxygen
A head that will not clear
A mouth that barely works
A mind that would rather shut down

My greatest fear is that people will know that I am
Running on empty

It is not, when I spend time with them, that I do not care
I do
It is not that I don’t want to be there
I do

But my head and heart are empty
And there is a dull roar echoing thought my skull
That 24 hours without sleep kind of buzz

And I know that they are getting such small percentage of who I am

No wonder I do not feel effective these day
No wonder I am not effective these days
Zombies are limited creatures
Only partly alive

There are no easy answers
A little more sleep
A little more white space
 A little more time, reading, reflecting

But in the meantime I keep on
A sermon to write
A bulletin to do
A class to prepare for
A person to listen to
A person to pray for

God, I am at the end of my capacity
Time to lean
On
you

Monday, July 30, 2018

a sense of other


He hath disgraced me and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies – and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die?
                              Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, Act III Scene I
________________________________________________________

What have we lost
We sentient beings who wander this earth
Looking for that which always seems slightly out of reach?

We stand like Tantalus,
Stuck, grasping, unsatisfied.

What have we lost in our quest?

We have lost our sense of other
We seem so incapable of seeing “the other”
As fellow human beings
As brothers and sisters

As Children of God

We see only the labels
The surface

Christian, Muslim
Republican, Democrat
Trumpista, Libertard
Black, White, Brown
Immigrant, refugee
Addict
Rich, poor, lazy moocher

As we walk through our day
Immersed in our fears, our joys, our hopes, our hates

We cannot see that “they” are “us”
We are all walking in fear
We are all walking wounded
We are all walking hopeful

We have more in common than we think

And if we can get in touch with that common humanity
What a difference it would make

If I can see the hurt behind the hate
If I can see the fear behind the judgement
If I can understand what drives the other person

I might find that he or she
Is really just like me

Yes there are differences
There are different values, different priorities
Different ways of responding

But in the end, we share a sacred parentage
And we share a rock, hurtling through space
We share fear, and hate, we share a need for safety, and for meaning
We share greed, and lust, and compassion and generosity

And we share something deep and profound
That can unite us

But we have to see
We have to accept
Forgive
Understand

We have to connect at that one place
Where we can connect
At that deep place
Where the Sacred lives

And then we have to walk each other home (Ram Dass)

_____________________________________________________

As I write this I am reminded of a prayer by Michel Quoist

Lord, why did you tell me to love all, my brothers [and sisters}? I have tried, but I come back to you, frightened… Lord, I was so peaceful at home, I was so comfortably settled. It was well furnished, and I felt cozy. I was alone, I was at peace. Sheltered from the wind, the rain, the mud. I would have stayed unsullied in my ivory tower. But, Lord, you have discovered a breach in my defenses, You have forced me to open my door, Like a squall of rain in the face, the cry of men has awakened me; Like a gale of wind a friendship has shaken me, As a ray of light slips in unnoticed, your grace has stirred me… and, rashly enough, I left my door ajar. Now, Lord, I am lost!  Outside people were lying in wait for me. I did not know they were so near; in this house, in this street, in this office; my neighbor, my colleague, my friend. As soon as I started to open the door I saw them, with outstretched hands, burning eyes, longing hearts, like beggars on church steps. The first ones came in, Lord. There was after all some space in my heart. I welcomed them. I would have cared for them and fondled them, my very own little lambs, my little flock. You would have been pleased, Lord, I would have served and honored you in a proper, respectable way. Till then, it was sensible… But the next ones, Lord, the others, I had not seen them; they were hidden behind the first ones. There were more of them, they were wretched; they over-powered me without warning. We had to crowd in, I had to find room for them. Now they have come from all over, in successive waves, pushing one another, jostling one another. They have come from all over town, from all parts of the country, of the world; numberless, inexhaustible. They don’t come alone any longer but in groups, bound one to another. They come bending under heavy loads; loads of injustice, of resentment and hate, of suffering and sin… They drag the world behind them, with everything rusted, twisted, or badly adjusted. Lord, they hurt me! They are in the way, they are everywhere, They are too hungry, they are consuming me! I can’t do anything anymore; as they come in, they push the door, and the door opens wider… Lord! My door is wide open! I can’t stand it anymore! It’s too much! It’s no kind of life! What about my job? My family? My peace? My liberty? And me? Lord, I have lost everything, I don’t belong to myself any longer; There’s no more room for me at home. Don’t worry, God says, you have gained all. While they came in to you, I, your Father, I, your God, Slipped in among them.




Saturday, July 28, 2018

Rise up


“The sun shines not on us but in us.”
― John Muir

“Deep roots are not reached by the frost.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien
____________________________________

The unyielding earth
Beneath my feet

Dry grass wilting, drying
Brittle and dusty

I wander aimlessly in the
Late dark early light
Of a waning moon

Greyness hovers
And only a sliver of pale pink
On the horizon heralds the coming sun

Such grayness feels comfortable this day
this day where yet again dark things will happen
this day where once again greed will make choices that harm
and hate will make choices that exclude
and fear will make choices that take the world down the path of cruelty

such grayness feel comfortable
as it matches the grayness in my soul
in these days when the darker angels of our nature
have been given the clarion call to action
by those who have profane power

it seeps into one’s soul
this darkness
trickling down
oozing its way deep into our souls

but still there is that sliver of light
still there is that place from which life comes
that somehow cannot be touched
cannot be totally destroyed

if we wait patiently
eyes on the horizon
the light will surely grow

if we wait patiently
and with intensity focus on the light
as it flickers deep in our soul
down in that place where the remnants of our
Sacred heritage still stir

It will surely grow

And as the gray of morning slowly gives way
To pink, to yellow, and then to brilliance
So too
Perhaps
The grayness of our souls
Will be touched by the light
Of that which formed and sustains the universe

Wake oh sleepers
Rise up
Wake up, oh better angels of our nature

There is work to be done

Thursday, July 26, 2018

Blessed be

Blessed are the agnostics. Blessed are they who doubt, those who aren't sure, those who can still be surprised. Blessed are those who have nothing to offer. Blessed are they for whom death is not an abstraction. Blessed are they who have buried their loved ones for whom tears could fill an ocean.

Blessed are they who have loved enough to know what loss feels like. Blessed are they who don't have the luxury of taking things for granted anymore. Blessed are they who can't fall apart because they have to keep it together for everyone else. Blessed are those who still aren't over it yet. Blessed are those who mourn.

Blessed are those who no one else notices, the kids who sit alone at middle school lunch tables, the laundry guys at the hospital, the sex workers, and the night shift street sweepers. Blessed are the forgotten. Blessed are the closeted. Blessed are the unemployed, the unimpressive, the under-represented.

Blessed of the wrongly accused, the ones who never catch a break, the ones for whom life is hard for Jesus chose to surround himself with people like them. Blessed are those without documentation. Blessed are the ones without lobbyists. Blessed are those who make terrible business decisions for the sake of people. Blessed are the burned out social workers and the overworked teachers and the pro-bono case takers.

Blessed are the kindhearted NFL players and the fundraising trophy wives. And blessed are the kids who step between the bullies and the weak. Blessed is everyone who has ever forgiven me when I didn't deserve it. Blessed are the merciful for they totally get it. You are of heaven and Jesus blesses you.
                                                                           NADIA BOLZ-WEBER
__________________________________________________

Blessed are they
Blessed are all the little ones
Sinful ones
Faithful ones

Blessed are the sober ones
And the wasted one
The healthy ones
And the ill

Blessed are those who are joyful
And blessed are those who mourn

Sometimes we think we know what a “blessing” looks like

It looks like finding someone to love
Who actually loves us back

It looks like our stocks going up
And our debt going down

It looks like “our” person being elected President

I looks like a big tax refund
Like a sunny day (or a rainy one)

I looks like happy healthy children

But we are always blessed
Even when love fails
And we fall, hard

Even when our debts mount
And depression hollows us out until
We are nothing

We are blessed when the storms come
And anxiety mounts

And perhaps it is the moments that we don’t feel blessed
That we most need to understand
That we are blessed

For being blessed is one thing
One thing
It is Sacred Love

And it is our having even the smallest, tiniest
Mustard seed sized
awareness of that love

it is that touch of warmth and peace
somewhere down in our deepest place
when all seems cold and chaotic

So holy ones
And holy terrors

So saints and all sinners (thank you Nadia)
So people wreathed with smiles
And people whose eyes are filled with tear

So people who know peace
And those who do not….

“Rejoice, and be glad!
Blessed are you, holy are you!
Rejoice and be glad!
Yours is the kingdom of God!”  (Haas)


Tuesday, July 24, 2018

make a difference


“If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.”
― Dalai Lama XIV

 “My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.”
― Dalai Lama XIV
____________________________________________________________________

The news pours out of the TV
Rolls across the screen of my computer

It is overwhelming
Depressing
Disemboweling

We are left beaten and shaken

The lies, the cruelty, the selfishness,
The hate, the prejudice

To total disregard for the vulnerable
And the health of the earth

It makes one feel one’s “smallness”
And it make one want to just
Quit

To curl up in a ball, deep under the covers
To turn off the TV
Shut down the computer
And
Isolate!

What fun
Nothing like turning one’s mind loose on one’s self

Ouch

But here is the thing
We all can make a difference!
Really

We can do what is in front of us
Care for the person in front of us
Listen to the person in front of us

And we can perform a thousand small acts of kindness each day

bzzzzz, bzzzzzz



Monday, July 23, 2018

Live up to the light


“I am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true. I am not bound to
succeed, but I am bound to live up to what light I have.”
                               Abraham Lincoln
_____________________________________

We live in a world of flawed formulas

Work hard and you will succeed
If you live a good life you will be blessed

Those formulas were, at the very least,
Somewhat well intentioned

But we are now bombarded by values and beliefs that are not merely wrong
None of them are new
But they are newly embraced
And they are destructive

The end justifies the means
God loves and blesses us, but not them
People who are not like us have less value
Might makes right
If you have the power, you should be free to use it (without worrying about how it impacts others)
It is more important to be strong, than just, or compassionate
Its ok to scramble and fight to get what I want, even if it means others get left behind

We live in a world
More specifically in a nation
That is no longer “true”
And no longer living up the “what light” it has

We must respond
And grab hold of the truth
That we are in a win – lose culture
That is really a lose – lose culture

This must change.  To quote the words of Joseph Kennedy, as he spoke recently to spiritual leaders

“This moment demands more of us than we might feel capable of giving; more than we have traditionally done; more than we have ever expected.

But those of you in this room tonight — with your reservoirs of faith, of wisdom, of gentleness and justice and generosity – with the trust you have righteously earned from the people you serve — you are the ones to meet this moment.

Help us tell America an alternative story. Help us show our fractured, fearful country a different way.

Not a Democratic agenda or a Republican agenda – but a decent one.

“From the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”

Where you lead with strength and surety, a grateful nation will follow.”

We must lead
We must challenge the way that leads to lose – lose
We must live up to what light we have

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Lost


He hath disgraced me and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies – and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die?
                              Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, Act III Scene I
________________________________________________________

What have we lost
We sentient beings who wander this earth
Looking for that which always seems slightly out of reach?

We stand like Tantalus,
Stuck, grasping, unsatisfied.

What have we lost in our quest?

We have lost our sense of other
We seem so incapable of seeing “the other”
As fellow human beings
As brothers and sisters

As Children of God

We see only the labels
The surface

Christian, Muslim
Republican, Democrat
Trumpista, Libertard
Black, White, Brown
Immigrant, refugee
Addict
Rich, poor, lazy moocher

As we walk through our day
Immersed in our fears, our joys, our hopes, our hates

We cannot see that “they” are “us”
We are all walking in fear
We are all walking wounded
We are all walking hopeful

We have more in common than we think

And if we can get in touch with that common humanity
What a difference it would make

If I can see the hurt behind the hate
If I can see the fear behind the judgement
If I can understand what drives the other person

I might find that he or she
Is really just like me

Yes there are differences
There are different values, different priorities
Different ways of responding

But in the end, we share a sacred parentage
And we share a rock, hurtling through space
We share fear, and hate, we share a need for safety, and for meaning
We share greed, and lust, and compassion and generosity

And we share something deep and profound
That can unite us

But we have to see
We have to accept
Forgive
Understand

We have to connect at that one place
Where we can connect
At that deep place
Where the Sacred lives

And then we have to walk each other home (Ram Dass)

_____________________________________________________

As I write this I am reminded of a prayer by Michel Quoist

Lord, why did you tell me to love all, my brothers [and sisters}? I have tried, but I come back to you, frightened… Lord, I was so peaceful at home, I was so comfortably settled. It was well furnished, and I felt cozy. I was alone, I was at peace. Sheltered from the wind, the rain, the mud. I would have stayed unsullied in my ivory tower. But, Lord, you have discovered a breach in my defenses, You have forced me to open my door, Like a squall of rain in the face, the cry of men has awakened me; Like a gale of wind a friendship has shaken me, As a ray of light slips in unnoticed, your grace has stirred me… and, rashly enough, I left my door ajar. Now, Lord, I am lost!  Outside people were lying in wait for me. I did not know they were so near; in this house, in this street, in this office; my neighbor, my colleague, my friend. As soon as I started to open the door I saw them, with outstretched hands, burning eyes, longing hearts, like beggars on church steps. The first ones came in, Lord. There was after all some space in my heart. I welcomed them. I would have cared for them and fondled them, my very own little lambs, my little flock. You would have been pleased, Lord, I would have served and honored you in a proper, respectable way. Till then, it was sensible… But the next ones, Lord, the others, I had not seen them; they were hidden behind the first ones. There were more of them, they were wretched; they over-powered me without warning. We had to crowd in, I had to find room for them. Now they have come from all over, in successive waves, pushing one another, jostling one another. They have come from all over town, from all parts of the country, of the world; numberless, inexhaustible. They don’t come alone any longer but in groups, bound one to another. They come bending under heavy loads; loads of injustice, of resentment and hate, of suffering and sin… They drag the world behind them, with everything rusted, twisted, or badly adjusted. Lord, they hurt me! They are in the way, they are everywhere, They are too hungry, they are consuming me! I can’t do anything anymore; as they come in, they push the door, and the door opens wider… Lord! My door is wide open! I can’t stand it anymore! It’s too much! It’s no kind of life! What about my job? My family? My peace? My liberty? And me? Lord, I have lost everything, I don’t belong to myself any longer; There’s no more room for me at home. Don’t worry, God says, you have gained all. While they came in to you, I, your Father, I, your God, Slipped in among them.

Saturday, July 21, 2018

equilibrium


“For Equilibrium, a Blessing:
Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.

As the wind loves to call things to dance,
May your gravity by lightened by grace.

Like the dignity of moonlight restoring the earth,
May your thoughts incline with reverence and respect.

As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.

As silence smiles on the other side of what's said,
May your sense of irony bring perspective.

As time remains free of all that it frames,
May your mind stay clear of all it names.

May your prayer of listening deepen enough
to hear in the depths the laughter of god.”
John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings
_____________________________

The ground is firm between my feet
a relentless sun
has transformed the earth
once softened by rain
into a baked hardness
remorseless

this harsh world
under my feet
seems to speak of the world

which once substantial, and beautiful
has become twisted

transformed by
power and self-indulgence
into something
Impenetrable and harsh

a wasteland
of hate and greed

a dry and barren land where there is no water

this twisted tilted world leaves me
out of balance
as if the very harshness of
children caged
poor shamed
vulnerable neglected
evil flourishing

without equilibrium

I find myself wishing another ill
Hoping for the eradication of an existence
Returning hate with hate
Intolerance with intolerance

I long for the echoes of Sacred Presence
Rattling around in my soul
Lifting me up
Quenching my thirst
Re-creating me

So that I can once again love
Once again hope
Once again have compassion

So that I may once again
Dance and laugh
With the music of love
Reverberating in my heart

May I find the Sacred within
My I find myself again
And in the extravagance of holy love
May my mind be healed
May my heart be healed
May my soul be healed

May I be at peace


Thursday, July 19, 2018

Blessed are


Blessed are the agnostics. Blessed are they who doubt, those who aren't sure, those who can still be surprised. Blessed are those who have nothing to offer. Blessed are they for whom death is not an abstraction. Blessed are they who have buried their loved ones for whom tears could fill an ocean.

Blessed are they who have loved enough to know what loss feels like. Blessed are they who don't have the luxury of taking things for granted anymore. Blessed are they who can't fall apart because they have to keep it together for everyone else. Blessed are those who still aren't over it yet. Blessed are those who mourn.

Blessed are those who no one else notices, the kids who sit alone at middle school lunch tables, the laundry guys at the hospital, the sex workers, and the night shift street sweepers. Blessed are the forgotten. Blessed are the closeted. Blessed are the unemployed, the unimpressive, the under-represented.

Blessed of the wrongly accused, the ones who never catch a break, the ones for whom life is hard for Jesus chose to surround himself with people like them. Blessed are those without documentation. Blessed are the ones without lobbyists. Blessed are those who make terrible business decisions for the sake of people. Blessed are the burned out social workers and the overworked teachers and the pro-bono case takers.

Blessed are the kindhearted NFL players and the fundraising trophy wives. And blessed are the kids who step between the bullies and the weak. Blessed is everyone who has ever forgiven me when I didn't deserve it. Blessed are the merciful for they totally get it. You are of heaven and Jesus blesses you.
                                                                           NADIA BOLZ-WEBER
__________________________________________________

Blessed are they
Blessed are all the little ones
Sinful ones
Faithful ones

Blessed are the sober ones
And the wasted one
The healthy ones
And the ill

Blessed are those who are joyful
And blessed are those who mourn

Sometimes we think we know what a “blessing” looks like

It looks like finding someone to love
Who actually loves us back

It looks like our stocks going up
And our debt going down

It looks like “our” person being elected President

I looks like a big tax refund
Like a sunny day (or a rainy one)

I looks like happy healthy children

But we are always blessed
Even when love fails
And we fall, hard

Even when our debts mount
And depression hollows us out until
We are nothing

We are blessed when the storms come
And anxiety mounts

And perhaps it is the moments that we don’t feel blessed
That we most need to understand
That we are blessed

For being blessed is one thing
One thing
It is Sacred Love

And it is our having even the smallest, tiniest
Mustard seed sized
awareness of that love

it is that touch of warmth and peace
somewhere down in our deepest place
when all seems cold and chaotic

So holy ones
And holy terrors

So saints and all sinners (thank you Nadia)
So people wreathed with smiles
And people whose eyes are filled with tear

So people who know peace
And those who do not….

“Rejoice, and be glad!
Blessed are you, holy are you!
Rejoice and be glad!
Yours is the kingdom of God!”  (Haas)



Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Awareness

Awareness is like the sun
When it shines on things
They are transformed
                              Thich Nhat Hanh
__________________________

Awareness is a good thing

Not a fun thing
Not an easy thing
But a good thing

For if we are not aware of the chattering in our head
If we are not aware of the dark things rattling around in our souls
we are powerless

we are controlled by what we do not understand
by what we do not hear, do not know
by what we will not face
cannot face

Ignorance is not a option
For the person who wants to live a meaningful life

If we do not see our fears
Our delusions
Our weakness
If we do not see our strengths

We cannot be our best
And we will often be our worst

But if we see
Then we can repair the broken
Clean out the dark
And embrace the good

And be transformed