Be Brave

Be brave

Little things

Still matter most

— Naomi Shihab Nye

__________________

Sometimes I want to quit

Quit the struggle

Quit the fight

I want to close down Facebook

Turn off the television

Throw my cell phone into the closest snow drift

And sit in my study with my books

who know how to be civil,

and who offer me comfort and wisdom

and pet my dog,

and cater to the cats (who must be obeyed)

Because it all seems too big

The greed and hate, all too encompassing

Racism is up

Fear is up

Hate is up

Pollution is up

Lies are endemic

and there is so little I can do

and yet

little things still matter

Sun, after days of clouds, matters

A friend painting a picture of me (thanks John), matters

Finn bounding through the snow, matters

Shu (the cat) warming my feet, matters

The smell of fresh coffee

The beauty of a winter morning

All matter

And there are little things I can do

That still matter

I say thank you

I can listen

I can visit a friend

I can refrain from a brilliant, but cruel comment

I can pray

I can be kind

I can be generous

I can do so many little things

that keep,

at least within my tiny sphere of influence,

the hate, and anger

the racism, and cynicism

from growing

I can do little things to build hope

Little things to comfort,

Little things to help people find faith,

Little things to nurture Sacred Presence within my self.

Yes the problems are huge

   but “be brave

  little things

  still matter most”

welcome

Washed into the doorway

by the wake of traffic,

he wears humanity

like a third-hand shirt

–blackened with enough

of Manhattan’s dirt to sprout

a tree, or poison one.

His empty hand has led him

where he has come to.

Our differences claim us.

He holds out his hand,

in need of all that’s mine.

And so we’re joined, as deep

as son and father. His life

is offered me to choose.

Shall I begin servitude

to him? Let this cup pass.

Who am I? But charity must

suppose, knowing no better,

that this man is a man fallen

among thieves, or come

to this strait by no fault

–that our difference

is not a judgment,

though I can afford to eat

and am made his judge.

I am, I nearly believe,

the Samaritan who fell

into the ambush of his heart

on the way to another place.

My stranger waits, his hand

held out like something to read,

as though its emptiness

is an accomplishment.

I give him a smoke and the price

of a meal, no more

–not sufficient kindness

or believable sham.

I paid him to remain strange

to my threshold and table,

to permit me to forget him—

knowing I won’t. He’s the guest

of my knowing, though not asked.

                        Wendell Berry

___________________________

people come to us from everywhere

from Guatemala, and Venezuela,

from Syria and South Sudan

from Myanmar and Somolia

the come the lands of poverty

from rural byways in the deep south

from behind the sage brush curtain of the west

from the depths of great cities

where urine soaked back allies

and littered doorways are called home

they wash up to our doorways

wearing their poverty

their hunger and exhaustion like a dirt shirt

weighed down by hopelessness and fear

chased by contempt and shaming

neglected by those who are

too comfortable, too important, too busy

to stop, to see, to listen, to care

those busily on their journeys

to church,

or work

those who will not offer a glance

but stare stolidly ahead

head down

rushing through life

to whatever is next

rushing past hoping not to see

some offer a sort of welcome

a token gesture

a coin tossed

help offered at arms length

just enough to feel righteous

but not embrace

just enough to satisfy the conscience

and that strange Sacred pull

that comes from deep with in

that comes from Sacred Presence

a quick handout, a furtive meal

a scrap of cloth, a voucher

so one can hurry on our way

or hurry them on their way

Out of sight

And out of mind

Ah Lord

that is not the way it is supposed to be

you wish to ambush our hearts

interrupt our lives

you want us to stop

and turn aside

to kneel in the dust like the Samaritan

who was good

to see, listen, engage

to offer our hand

to welcome the stranger

to our table, across our threshold

we know all the reasons not to

it is scary and costly

and our minds scream that this one

who is in such a place

got there on her own

earned his discomfiture

we hide behind fear

and use merit as an excuse

but still You call us to welcome

and embrace

Ah, God who is Love

help us to understand

that this one who holds out her hand

his hand

empty

is joined to us at the heart

do not permit us to forget

this one

whom we have found along our way

this guest

who has shown up

at the threshold of

our heart

suffering

Suffering equals the gap between what we have, and what we want.

Christopher Germer

__________________________________

There it is

That precious glittering treasure

that I so desire

it is there!

just out of reach

its rich colors glittering in the sunlight

taunting me

its brilliance mocking me

making me miserable

until my entire body

hums

with the power of my want

I strive

stretching myself

planning and working

my hours

my days

my weeks

are consumed

my body is worn and bent

and still

I yearn

for such silly things, really

money, power

acclaim

a sense that I, I have been

“important”

“necessary”

I strive

failing to see

that in my clenched fist

the one so curled and twisted

 by the immensity of my want

there rests

glittering precious treasures

waiting for me to stop

breathe

breathe again

open my hand

and let them be

love

peace

forgiveness

acceptance

grace

God

good gifts

the gifts of Sacred Presence

The gifts of the One who is love

I will probably always have things that I want

but I have what I need

all this love.

really listen

I have just hung up: why did he telephone?

I don’t know….Oh!  I get it ….

I talked a lot and listened very little

Forgive me, Lord; it was a monologue and not a dialogue

I explained my idea and did not get his;

Since I didn’t listen, I learned nothing,

Since I didn’t listen, I didn’t help,

Since I didn’t listen, we didn’t commune.

Forgive me, Lord, for we were connected,

And now we are cut off

                                                Michael Quoist  (Prayers)

______________________________________

It happened on Facebook

It happens all the time, said to say

It happens in bars,

And around the tables in the local café

It even happens in churches

A comment is made

And the feeding frenzy begins

I started such a frenzy myself, just this evening

A comment was made

I didn’t agree

I made assumptions

I threw out the challenge

And I did it in such a way as to make the other defensive

Damn!

I asked a question

But it was loaded

I could have been different

I should have been different

It is really not that hard

“Tell me more”

“What makes you feel the way you do?  Tell me your story”

I might find that that person so passionately upset that people with an addiction

get free drugs to help them,

may be in danger of dying because the drugs he needs cost more than he can afford

That the woman who is so violently angry at women who have an abortion

Hides the pain of not being able to bear a child her self

That the person who is sharp and judgmental

Is really tired and frustrated and struggling with whether his life has any value

(Hmmmm, is that me in the mirror)

Perhaps we will find that other person has a valid point

A valuable perspective

We can stop

Breathe

Listen

Ask questions

Ask more questions (based on the free information we receive)

Slowly but surely the gap between ourselves and others

Will narrow

Slowly, in spite of all the landmines that lie strewn between us

We can work our way toward one another

Its possible

Jesus was great at it

I, sadly am not

But I can try

Just sit there

Just sit there right now

Don’t do a thing

Just rest

For your separation from God

Is the hardest work in this world….

                                                Rumi

____________________________

Avoiding the God takes a lot of work

You can’t do it easily

How do you avoid the God in a sunrise

Or in the light, glistening off a mountain

Newly white

On a winters day?

How do you avoid God

In a spring breeze

Scented with pine,

Or in the nudge of a dog’s nose

when it is time to rise?

how do you avoid God in

the smile of a friend

or the hug of a child?

Oh we try

We spend hours on Facebook

Get tangled up in tweets

We put our head down

And refuse to look up

We bury our lives in busyness

But still God comes

In the rising of the moon

In the laughter of coyotes

In the dancing of deer through the trees

In the pressure of a horse nose

In the small of one’s back

And catches us by

surprise

wake up

With

passion pray

with passion make love,

with

passion work,

with passion eat and drink

and dance and

play

Why look

like a dead fish

in

this ocean

of

G

o

d

.

Rumi (The Subject Tonight Is Love, Trans. Ladinsky)

___________________

Perhaps the problem

is not

that our theology is wrong,

or our litany is tired

Perhaps the issue is not our music

which is either old

and sometimes tiresome

or new

and repetitive and shallow

Perhaps the problem

is not

perhaps the problem is

that we have lost our passion

for God

for justice

for equity

perhaps we have lost our passion

not just for God

and the Sacred way

but

for people

those people who surround us

the poor, the hungry

the homeless

the family fleeing

oppression and death

the person who is addicted

and the one

who is mentally ill

the one who struggles

the one who has failed

We cannot have passion for God

without passion for people

for each person is

a

child

of

God

each person carries divine presence

the Sacred looks out

through every set of eyes

no passion for people

is perhaps

a symptom, more than an illness

if we love God with passion

we will inevitably love others

as

ourselves

so wake up

children of God

wake up to passion

wake up to God

and

with passion

live this new day

May I hear the laughter of God

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

______________________________

I am *%$#ing out of balance

Maybe its Trump

Or aging

Or being surprised by people misinterpreting me

Whom I thought knew me

Maybe it is injustice

Or inequity

Or border walls

Or lying Presidents

Or States of Emergency

It could be a lot of things

But this I know

I am out of balance

Up is down

Down is up

Good is evil

Evil is good

Shit!

But then

There are those beatitudes

Which suggest this is the way it is

 “Blessed are you who are poor,     for yours is the kingdom of God.

  Blessed are you who hunger now,     for you will be satisfied.

  Blessed are you who weep now,    for you will laugh.

  Blessed are you when people hate you,     when they exclude you and    

      insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man.

“Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.

“But woe to you who are rich,     for you have already received your comfort.

  Woe to you who are well fed now,  for you will go hungry.

  Woe to you who laugh now,  for you will mourn and weep.

  Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you,   for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.

Oh

I get it

All this external stuff

Is external stuff

What matters is the Sacred

What matters is Presence

What matters is how I respond

How I live

How I love

May I breathe deep

May I seek the depths

May I feel the presence

May I hear the laughter of God

love

The

Moon asked me

to meet her in a field

tonight

I think

she has amorous

ideas

Fantastic

Hafiz

______________________________

on this day

when we talk about love

and pretend that a tiny

part of love is indeed the whole

when eros is celebrated

and equally powerful facets of love,

phileo and

storge

and agape are sometimes

neglected

let us remember

how big love really is

how it embraces

everything that

lifts up, and encourages

everything that protects

and builds

passion is there to be sure

but so too friendship

loyalty

kindness

generosity

patience

forgiveness

and let us remember that Love

is that from which all comes

and is that which holds

everything together

Love is

The Sacred One

God

And we can find Love everywhere

In a lover

A children

A parent

A friend

But also in

The moon

The sun

The wind

The trees

In the rivers and trees

And that is…

Fabulous

live like it's heaven

You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,

Love like you'll never be hurt,

Sing like there's nobody listening,

And live like it's heaven on earth.”

― William W. Purkey

_________________________________

Just good theology, this

Live with gusto!  Check

Live in love! Check

Lift your voice!  Check!

But that last line says it all

Live like its heaven on earth

Exactly!

Think about it

Why did Jesus come to this earth?

To teach us how to get to heaven?

No!

Jesus came to show the solidarity between heaven and earth

To remind us that the earth is Sacred

And so are the people who live on it.

He came to teach us how to live on this earth

not how to scratch our way to heaven

To teach us how to bring the Kingdom of Heaven (or God)

In to being

Here!

Now!

And we are taught to pray

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done

On earth!

and we are impelled to live accordingly

which means fighting for justice

making peace

demanding and creating equity

advocating for and working for equality

We should support nothing on this earth

That would not be allowed in heaven

No caged children

No people without clean water (or water at all)

No greed

No hate

Nothing

We should do nothing on this earth

that would not be acceptable in heaven

We should feed the hungry

Clothe the naked

House the homeless

We should be people of

compassion

generosity

and kindness

we should live like its heaven on earth

after all the

Kingdom is very near

perhaps as near as our breath

Part of a whole

No one ever knows what divine narrative God may be writing with the crooked lines of someone’s struggles, misdeeds, and omissions”

                                                            John O’Donohue

____________________________________________

to what degree do I believe

that God is engaged in my life

writing a divine narrative of which I am

somehow

a part?

that is a good question

I do believe that we live on Sacred ground

Moses was not unique

when his toes clutched the earth of the Sinai

and he stood in the flickering light of

divine fire

every step we take

we are in touch with what is Sacred

the earth

the sky

the mountains and rivers

the flora and fauna

that person we stumble across

all contain God

participate in God

are, in some sense Sacred

and the more aware one is of this

the more the Divine influences

each step

each action

each word

each thought

if I see God in the mountains

do I dare rip that mountain apart for coal

if God is in that river do I careless allow oil

to foul its waters?

If I see God in that child

can I pull her from her mother

and throw her into a cage?

If I sense the that man is a Child of God

can I discard him

because he happens to have an addiction?

I suspect that in some mysterious way

we do participate in some sort of divine narrative

But I suspect we participate in that narrative as a single thread

participates in an amazing handwoven carpet

We are woven into the fabric of something huge and complex

In my hubris I want God to be all about “me”

And my individual journey

I want God guiding each step

Determining my path

Setting me on my way

But the more I participate in the mystery

the more I understand that we are all so inextricably woven together

that we cannot separate our narrative from all narratives

our narrative is not more important than another’s narrative

we are not singled out for blessing

or for curse

we are part of a whole we cannot understand

we are in this together

each of us doing the best we can

moving along in torturous fashion

but all

together

creating the divine narrative

moving haltingly

toward that new heaven

and more importantly

that new earth

no hate

“We have just enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love.”

 David Mitchell, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet

“To hate man and worship God seems to be the sum of all the creeds.”

 Robert Ingersoll, Some Mistakes of Moses

___________________________________________

I was taught to follow Jesus

by a father who was a healer

and a mother who, although she rarely “spoke love”

lived love, doing things for others

I was taught to “keep it simple”

to love God

and

to love those around me

So I will admit that I do not understand

those who say they love God

but have no problem hating other people

its endemic

this hate

every morning I am assaulted by hate

it is like a stream of fetid sewage

springing up out of the heart of our nation

(not just ours to be sure)

racism, overt and growing bolder

violence, with a red hat assaulting a British photojournalist

lies, lies, lies and more lies,

designed to nurture hate and fear

greed, causing such economic inequity that the poor are literally dying in our streets

and all of this is supported

by religion

I cannot call it Christianity for it cannot and does not come from Christ

I cannot call it faith, for such fear driven behavior is the antithesis of faith

It is simply religion

Which is not necessarily spiritual at all

Spirituality is about our connection with what is Sacred

It is our being touched, changed, driven, empowered by Sacred Presence

Religion is about ritual, and dogma

It is about buildings and program

And all too often, instead of it being the place with the Spirit roars like wind

And consumes like fire

Impelling us into the Sacred’s “new thing”

It is fearful people

Huddled together in a building

Windows closed

The wind of the Spirit still

Listening to fearful people

Instilling fear

It is nothing more than an institution

Trying as hard as it can to maintain a social cultural status quote

And using hate as one of its primary weapons

Religion allied with politics

killed Jesus

Religion created the inquisition

It burned my ancestors (Mennonites) at the stake

I caused the Crusades and has been the driving force behind many a war

It has prompted the genocide of indigenous peoples around the world

Today in America

Religion has joined hands with a political agenda

It has closed its heart to people in need

And allied itself with people in greed

It has chosen to close its ears to lies

And support hate and fear

It has chosen to believe that money is more important than people

And more important than the earth

It has chosen to rely on power

and on guns

on walls

on brutality

rather than on the God who says

“do not be afraid’

which is why each morning

I try to remind myself

That the way of the Sacred was embodied in Jesus

Not in the Pharisees and Sadducees

That the way of the Sacred was lived out around tables

in the homes of common people

not in the Temple in Jerusalem (which had become, as many of our mega-churches, a den of thieves).

That the way of the Sacred, which bubbled up out of Jesus

like a Spring of Living water

caused him to accept, and welcome all

feed all, with no eye to merit

love all

forgive all

heal all

die for all

and he only asked us to do two things

love God

and love the people

God places in our path

hate bubbles up

it is so easy to drink from that cup

but we are called to drink from a different cup