Really Hearing What’s Being Said

My friend Susan Stabile shared this story.  I’m eager to share it with you:

Pope Francis departed from his prepared text to share an anecdote during his general audience on Wednesday.  He told this story of an elderly woman who helped an immigrant…

As the lady came across this young man, who was without shoes, they began to speak and she asked him, “What are you searching for?”

“Saint Peter’s to go through the Holy Door,” he responded to her question.

Moved with sympathy, she thought to herself: “But how can he walk? .. He doesn’t even have shoes. She insisted on offering a taxi to bring him. When the taxi driver stopped however, he was hesitant to accept the passenger, as he smelled very badly.

However, the driver agreed, as the immigrant and the lady got in and chatted on the way to the Vatican. They spoke about his history, what he has lived through, the trials, the war, etc.

By the end of the ride, the lady went to pay, and the driver, who hesitated to accept them, said: “No, Signora. It is I who must pay for you, because you made me listen to a story that changed my heart.”

Susan poses the perfect question: How open is my heart to being changed by the stories I hear?

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You may read this story and follow Susan on her blog, Creo en Dios [here].  

Aspiration, Promise, Destiny

Nothing original today, only aspirational…

As a human, I’m just a tiny moment of consciousness, a small part of creation, a particle that reflects only a fragment of God’s glory. And yet that’s enough. In the words of St. Symeon the New Theologian (949-1022):

What I have seen is the totality recapitulated as One,
Received not in essence but by participation.
It is just as if you lit a flame from a live flame:
It is the entire flame you receive. 

It’s really that simple. If we have not experienced that connection, knowing that we are indeed a fragment of the Great Flame, we will most certainly need to accumulate more and more outer things as substitutes for self-worth. This, of course, is the great spiritual illusion. We needn’t acquire what we already have. Our value comes from our inherent participation in God.

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From: Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation for October 19 which is adapted from Richard Rohr, Simplicity: The Freedom of Letting Go (The Crossroad Publishing Company: 2003), 168-169, 172-173.

An Ordinary and Honest Disposition

Though we’d like to think we are simply ordinary folks and “middle class” by economic standards, the truth is we’re privileged! Simply by virtue of the fact that you are viewing this post defines you as more technologically savvy than most, have the discretionary income to afford an iPad and WiFi connection, and the leisure if not intellectual curiosity to reflect on musings such as these.

Being privileged in these ways comes with a whole set of hazards and pitfalls. Most of us are too sophisticated to fall into blatant arrogance, snobbery or condescension. No, most of us have polished our self-regard into respectable forms of social acceptability. Or, we skillfully retreat to our very own safe-place of silent superiority. An excellent barometer for whether this “fits” may be to ask how satisfied or protective we are of the status quo or self-assured we are of “how things ought to be.”

I’m certainly not immune to that of which I write! My political views are not only well-informed, they are most assuredly correct. I am certain of moral truth and clearly understand what the Gospels teach. I’m even confident in my opinions about what careers others should pursue, the persons they should marry (or not), and how they are to raise children. It’s all quite obvious to us average, ordinary folks!

No, it’s not! Truth does not come easily. Rarely is it ever obvious. Life is hard. Wisdom isn’t cheap. Rather, life has a way of tripping us up, turning us inside out and upside down. As the Buddha discovered, “Life is suffering!” So much for our protective obsession with the status quo, our blissful preoccupation with stocking our pantries and filling our days with gadgets or endless forms of entertainment!

Here’s where the actually poor, those on the “underside” or the “outside” have an advantage over us average, middle class folks. They know their powerlessness. They don’t have the privilege of holding their suffering at bay. They don’t need a 12-Step program or years of expensive therapy to wrestle with the truth of their lives.

No, the poor are not saints any more than the rest of us “privileged” types. They are subject to the same pitfalls, addictions and sins as the rest of us. They simply know better than most that “the way things are” ain’t okay.  This seems to give them an inside track on the truth — we are powerless. Theologically speaking, we are not God — so get over it!

Recently, a man shared with me a heart-wrenching story about the bottom falling out of his life as a result of his abuse of alcohol. We could easily substitute any story about our worlds collapsing or our dependence on “the way things ought to be” crumbling — a debilitating medical diagnosis, floods in Louisiana, the death of a loved one. This man is one of the lucky ones — he readily acknowledges his addiction, his idolatry.

The first step is to admit our powerlessness. It’s the hardest step by far. None of us want to take it. There are an infinite array of ways we distract and divert ourselves into denying this truth. But then, and only then, do we learn how to pray. Then, and only then, do we really learn how to live.

My friend shared his simple prayer with me. I have heard none better: I can’t! You can! Please help! He then substitutes Thanks! for what’s become an all too average and anemic “Amen”.

We would all do well to pray and live more like this extraordinary and exceptionally honest man!

What’s In Our Backpacks?

We all carry deep wounds — painful regrets about things we’ve done, festering resentments about what has been done to us. A fable retold by Carl Richards captures these burdens and the heavy cost of not letting go of them…

Two traveling monks reached a town where there was a young woman waiting to step out of her sedan chair. The rains had made deep puddles and she couldn’t step across without spoiling her silken robes. She stood there, looking very cross and impatient. She was scolding her attendants. They had nowhere to place the packages they held for her, so they couldn’t help her across the puddle.

The younger monk noticed the woman, said nothing, and walked by. The older monk quickly picked her up and put her on his back, transported her across the water, and put her down on the other side. She didn’t thank the older monk; she just shoved him out of the way and departed.

As they continued on their way, the young monk was brooding and preoccupied. After several hours, unable to hold his silence, he spoke out. “That woman back there was very selfish and rude, but you picked her up on your back and carried her! Then, she didn’t even thank you!”

“I set the woman down hours ago,” the older monk replied. “Why are you still carrying her?”

If you are like me, you easily identify with the young monk. We may glimpse the wisdom of the older monk and desire to live accordingly.

The incriminating insight for me is the shocking recognition that I also behave like the prissy princess all too often — another burden I carry and need to set aside.

This truth is something I will carry with me and try to unpack again and again.
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Carl Richards credits Jon Muth’s book Zen Shorts for his story. Carl Richards’ fine essay appeared in the August 23 New York Times and can found at: http://www.nytimes.com/2016/08/23/your-money/the-cost-of-holding-on.html?_r=0

 

Simply Amazing, Isn’t It!?!

Susan Stabile is both a good friend and the Director of the Office for Spirituality at the University of St Thomas. She suggested a superb exercise at a program kicking off the beginning of the school year. Perhaps you will be as inspired and moved as was I. Surely, it is something I hope to come back to again and again.

Susan quoted the esteemed Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel:

Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement…get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.

Susan then proposed three insightful and incisive questions:

What are you finding most incredible and phenomenal in your life at this time?

What, if anything, do you take for granted?

What single change could you make in your life to live with a greater sense of amazement?

Yes, growth in spirituality and our relationship with God can be a simple as that… Amazing, isn’t it? Simply amazing!

A Prayer for the World

Came upon this today and it gave expression to my heart’s longing.  Perhaps it will touch yours as well…

A Prayer For The World
Let the rain come and wash away the ancient grudges,
the bitter hatreds held and nurtured over generations.
Let the rain wash away the memory of the hurt, the neglect.
Then let the sun come out and fill the sky with rainbows.
Let the warmth of the sun heal us wherever we are broken.
Let it burn away the fog so that we can see each other clearly.
So that we can see beyond labels, beyond accents, gender or skin color.
Let the warmth and brightness of the sun melt our selfishness.
So that we can share the joys and feel the sorrows of our neighbors.
And let the light of the sun be so strong that we will see all people as our neighbors.
Let the earth nourished by rain, bring forth flowers to surround us with beauty.
And let the mountains teach our hearts to reach upward to heaven.
AMEN!

Rabbi Harold Kushner – 2003

The Power of Two

“Self do it! SELF do it!” protested 3 year-old Michael as he climbed up the cabinet to get a treat. Mom recognized her challenge in this moment — keeping her son safe while strengthening his spirit of initiative and autonomy. No easy task!

Michael’s brother retold this endearing family tale as the core message in his best-man toast this past weekend. Younger by a year, and himself single, Andrew offered wise counsel for his elder brother and new sister-in-law, Rebecca.

Although addressing the bride and groom, everyone at the wedding banquet was taken by Andrew’s timeless wisdom. Praising his highly accomplished sibling for much Michael has achieved on his own, Andrew reminded his brother of “The power of Two.”

Yes, “self” can do much. Indeed, self should do much. But there is only so much any one of us can do alone. We are inherently limited as individuals. We need each other. We must rely on each other. We are better off together.

We too easily mouth such words and pretend to know their truth. But as Andrew reminded everyone in that moment, our stubborn independence runs deep. Though a strong autonomous self is a necessary stage of emotional development, it does not signal the culmination of personal maturity. Far from it.

Andrew nailed it! When two truly become one, we discover a power that is not simply arithmetic but exponential. Such is “The power of Two!” Not only is this the gift of marriage, it is the universal and timeless truth of Love.

Same Old, Same Old

Archbishop Bernard Hebda may be a really nice guy. He may even be a holy man. But, sorry, this (if true as reported) is the same old hierarchical, cover-your-priestly-ass, clerical bullshit:

“Hebda in the Q-and-A added that the Ramsey County investigation found insufficient evidence to bring forth criminal charges against any individuals and that questions to whether Nienstedt’s alleged misconduct compromised his leadership “became irrelevant in my mind” once he resigned last June.

“Moreover, canon law is sufficiently realistic and practical in that it doesn’t authorize bishops to judge their peers, and does not contemplate any further role in this matter for me or the archdiocese,” Hebda said.” (Excerpted from current National Catholic Reporter).

Need we remind the archbishop that he “or the archdiocese” does not constitute “the church”? This is a gross failure of pastoral leadership and ignorance of what the Church of St Paul and Minneapolis needs and deserves!

Sweep the investigation of Nienstedt’s alleged misconduct with 24 adult males under the rug and maybe people will forget! This “became irrelevant in [your] mind”?

Need we remind the current archbishop that Nienstedt remains on the payroll — for life — of the Archdiocese of St Paul and Minneapolis?  In addition, he remains a member of governing boards at the Catholic University of America as well as the Gregorian in Rome. Should not the faculty and administration of these institutions care about the moral integrity and reputation of their board members?

What’s buried alive stays alive!  But, the truth always comes out. The truth will be told. The only question is by whom.

For far too long the arrogant attitude of the hierarchy has been, “We know what’s best for the ‘lay faithful’.”  To this the People of God say, “BULLSHIT!”

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Full NCR report [here].

Show Up, Pay Attention and Listen!

Whether en route to lunch with a friend or heading off to the grocery, three random threads keep weaving their way through my thoughts. Amazing what intrigues us or where we find wisdom for living.

Last evening during a three-part offering about meditation sponsored by our church the facilitator quoted a Tibetan monk: “Easeful attraction is more effective than frantic pursuit.” Jeb the Dog has taught me much the same when I try to convince him to return to our yard rather than pursue that bunny up the alley. I guess it just takes a monk to convince us that simply paying attention reveals much of what we need to know.

The second snippet comes from a dear friend who has been grieving a terrible loss for the past few years: “How do we get past what we will never get over?” So much of life is this way. Grief is a tenacious and persistent experience,  a process that never really ends. Here’s what I’ve learned… we never do get over it, nor should we! The best we can do is to get past it by finding the ability to somehow cherish that “recurring void” as a sacred testimony to that, or to the one, we have lost.

Somewhere over the past two weeks someone said something or I read something that provided a flash of recognition and appreciation: “Love suffers, but suffering is not love.” Wowser… I could almost feel the synapses connecting! Brought back grateful memories of Mom and Dad as well as so many great loving and long-suffering parents I’ve observed. Isn’t that the truth. Our world could use more of that bit of wisdom!

Life is so crammed full of goodness and truth. It really does come down to: “Show up, pay attention and listen!”

Jeb the Dog, Spiritual Mentor

When claiming an upstairs bedroom for my personal “cave” I envisioned a place reserved exclusively for spiritual practice. No using the writing table to pay bills. No sitting in the comfortable rocker to read about current events. The room at the end of the upstairs hall would be far removed from casual visitors, especially those with merely a voyeuristic curiosity or any who may judge my hunger for sacred silence to be a bit eccentric if not peculiar.

Much has softened over the past few years. My initial intention to religiously leave my shoes at the door has given way to practicality. Though I remain grateful for its isolation from the flow of everyday-life, it is no longer off-limit to house guests or friends. Surely the greatest evolution has been the welcome of Jeb the Dog within the cloistered walls.

With a beginner’s naïveté and hyper spirituality I had envisioned training Jeb never to cross the threshold. Along with street shoes, “secular” reading and mundane social correspondence, he would remain on the other side of the threshold. Jeb already enjoyed full reign over the rest of our house. He didn’t need to trot uninvited into my inner sanctum.

Training Jeb never to cross the threshold now serves as a perfect metaphor for how I erect and defend boundaries within my spiritual life. He’s helped me recognize how disposed I am to define who or what is or is not “holy.” In fact, I would say Jeb the Dog has become my primary spiritual mentor, not just on our daily walks along the creek but also within the intimate sanctuary which my cave has become.

Long ago, Jeb made clear the wisdom that great apostle Peter had to learn (Act: 10). Who am I to judge anything God has created either ritually clean of unclean? All has been created by God, manifests God’s goodness and offers praise by virtue of fully being what it or whom it was created to be.

We guess Jeb is about seven. When he came to us in 2011 he was said to be “about 2” according to the Human Society. Still, he follows us around like a puppy-dog. Wherever we are he wants to be. Now when he follows me upstairs for my 20 minute meditation — trust me, best intentions always surpass my actual practice — Jeb trots right along and takes his preferred place aside the prayer rug. Lesson #1: Would that I were as eager to place myself in God’s presence as Jeb is so easily disposed to be in mine.

Unlike me, Jeb neither fidgets nor fixates on the clock. He simply takes his position and is content to rest in the present moment. At times I wonder whether he was Eckhart Tolle’s ghostwriter for The Power of Now.  A Zen master would be pleased to cite his audible exhalation as the proper method of “breathing” in prayer. Lesson #2: Would that I were as docile before God and attentive to sacred silence as is Jeb.

Outside meditation time Jeb is the master of getting his needs met. He possesses an uncanny ability to turn a pat atop his head into a full blown tummy-scratch. Clearly he knows what he wants but is never demanding or insistent. Rather, he is transparently honest and always available to whatever might come his way. Lesson #3: Would that I were as grateful for everything that comes my way and receive everything — absolutely everything — as gift!

Many more lessons have come via Jeb’s mentoring. These examples seem sufficient to clarify something Jeb did today. He trotted upstairs to the cave this morning having discerned I wasn’t delivering laundry or merely cleaning house. Taking his position aside the prayer rug, he exhaled deeply as is his wont and there quietly remained for the duration.

Here’s what made me smile in awe and amazement — upon my tapping the prayer bell which marks the end of each prayer session, Jeb promptly got up from his position and trotted back downstairs. His knowing attentiveness to the moment and our common ritual brought a chuckle that came from way down deep.

Perhaps that is the greatest lesson of all… Whatever our spiritual practice, ultimately it is to be judged by whether it brings forth a deep and abiding gladness.

As WC Fields wisely concluded, “If dogs don’t go to heaven, I want to go where they go.”