Monday, February 27, 2006

02/26/06, Sermon

All perspectives are self-validating. Every perspective is capable of adjusting itself to take into account facts and experiences which contradict the perspective. We cannot transform perspectives by proving them to be invalid through argument, debate, and an unending array of evidence. There are people who are sure men have never landed on the moon; who are convinced that the Holocaust is a fiction concocted and perpetuated by Zionists; who are sure that global warming doesn’t exist, and, if it does, isn’t caused by greenhouse gasses. Some Mary Kay salespersons believe God arranges their success and wants them to have pink Cadillac’s. Al Qaida operatives believe God is calling them to carry out the destruction of corporate America, including the cosmetic empire and automobile manufacturing. Put Mary Kay in a room with Osama ben Laden and see who changes whose perspective first.

We are going to see things the way we see things until something comes along to change the way we see things. Sometimes, it’s a simple shift in metaphors. I lived in Ferriday, Louisiana during the great flood of 197pickanumber7. Ferriday, Louisiana is protected by levies on all sides. The big one holds back the Mississippi River.

For weeks the Mississippi lapped at the top of the levy system, threatening to breach the levy and flood Concordia Parish. The Army Corps of Engineers sent a spokesperson to quell the rising wrath of politicians and citizens demanding that something be done. In a meeting with community leaders, who had been calling for spillways to be open downriver from Ferriday, the spokesperson said, “The river is not like a bathtub full of water which empties when you open the drain. It is like a garden hose full of water. No matter how many holes you put in a hose below a certain point, above that point, the hose is still full of water. And it won’t empty faster below that point as long it is being filled with water above that point. Until it quits raining, the river on the other side of this levy is going to be full.” That’s all he needed to say. Sometimes, that’s all it takes to shift a perspective.

I expect that Mary Kay and Osama ben Laden would have to do a bit more than that to change the way the other sees things. It’s hard to change some perspectives. A perspective which refuses to take itself into account, does not lend itself to alteration or transformation, adjustment or change. “This isn’t how I see things! This is how things are!” There are questions that neither Mary Kay nor Osama ben Laden can allow themselves to ask. They have an investment in their point of view that will not permit the examination of their point of view. You can agree with them, or you can go to war with them, or you can leave the room. But you cannot talk with them about things they will not put on the table.

The things we will not put on the table are the things that are too close to us to reconsider. It is easy for our religion to be too close to us to be considered. We become fundamentalists when “the fundamentals” of our religion are too close to us to be considered. When we cannot think about what we believe because it is “true belief” and is perfect as it is (because it was given to us directly from God), and doesn’t need to be thought about, we are too close to it to talk about it, and cannot put it on the table; cannot walk around it; cannot wonder why this and not that; cannot reconsider it; cannot think about it; can only believe it and try to force it onto those who do not.

An example of a belief that cannot be talked about, and hence, cannot be expanded, or altered, or transformed, or changed (and examples are everywhere), is the idea of “God’s will.” Literalists and fundamentalists (and the terms are interchangeable to my way of thinking) insist that everything exists because God wills it into existence. Nothing can exist that is “outside of God’s will.” They like to say, “There is a reason for everything,” as though God put it all here to arrange a particular outcome, to effect a particular plan. Yet, they can talk about being “in the center of God’s will,” implying that there is somewhere else to be. And, they can talk about sin as being “opposed to God’s will,” which suggests that God wills opposition to God’s will and holds accountable those who comply with God’s will by refusing to do God’s will. All of which begins to make you dizzy if you are paying attention.

You can tell if you are in the presence of a perspective that will not take itself into account—that will not put itself on the table—if you find yourself getting dizzy for no apparent reason. The dizziness is evidence of a perspective that has enlarged itself to take every objection into account and explains everything without changing anything about its fundamental point of view.
If God is almighty, invincible, omnipotent, omniscient and in complete control of everything, then nothing can happen outside of, or contrary to, God’s control, and God’s will is absolute. And, the idea of “double predestination” is inevitable, where God wills people to heaven and wills people to hell, and we are all just puppets playing out the role assigned to us before we were born. When religion becomes rational, we all become crazy. We have to keep religion crazy if we have any hope of remaining sane ourselves.

To keep religion crazy, we have to keep everything on the table and say we don’t know anything about any of it, and be willing to talk about all of it, knowing that we will never get to the bottom of it, but relishing with deep and abiding enjoyment the walk around the table and the imaginative, creative discussion it engenders. The discussion may wind down from time to time just because we can’t think of anything else to say at the moment, but with more experience and additional insight and new ideas and different people coming into the conversation, things take a new turn and new connections are generated, and we all are enlivened with new energy and new possibilities. When we cut off conversation with The Answers, in the form of doctrines, and creeds, and dogmas, and catechisms, and take the questions off the table, and there is nothing else to think about, we die, and our religion becomes rigid and brittle and lifeless and barren, regardless of how devotedly we believe.

Keeping everything on the table means being open to the possibilities without having to settle on a particular explanation as “the gospel truth.” Where God’s will is concerned, this means that we can agree that there is something within us moving toward something. We recognize the will to life, and it is not the will to just any life. It is not the will to life on a subsistence level. We are not content to just being 98.6 and breathing. The will is to LIFE. To the expression of that which is more than we are; to the experience of that which transcends our personal history and pulls us toward more than we have encountered or imagined. We are not content to just repeat the past. We cannot stay where we have been. We are seeking more than we can say. Can we see this seeking, this urge for more than “this,” as God’s will? As God seeking God? As a purpose that is more than we can explain or understand working its way out in our lives?

Why isn’t life happy with an ocean full of single cell organisms swimming around, having a blast? Why cannot life be satisfied with being alive? Why evolution? What is it going to take for life to be content? Where does life think its going? Is it just the nature of protoplasm to explode in all directions, and so do what it can to perpetuate itself on as many levels as possible, hoping for eternity and everlasting life? Or, is there more to it than protoplasm alone can ever be aware of?

Once evolution produces consciousness, something new enters the picture. Everything changes. Nothing is what it was, or what it is. Imagination and awareness transform life, and living, and being alive. With consciousness, with imagination and awareness, life becomes more than it has ever been. Now, it is no longer enough to just be physically alive—if it ever was! Now, we understand life to be a matter of levels, and we create Maslow’s Pyramid of Values, and live to be self-actualized, and strive to experience “flow.” Consciousness carries us to depths and heights far beyond the capacity of single cell organisms. Does it enable us to access a spiritual realm beyond the physical world and commune with God? The possibility is on the table!

Consciousness enables us to imagine, intuit, apprehend, perceive more about life than living requires us to know. Consciousness perceives that we must live in certain ways. With consciousness comes the idea that it is not enough to live. We must live well. We must strive to do it the way it ought to be done. Where does that idea come from?
Before consciousness, the urge was toward our own good. An amoeba will live toward its own good and away from its own bad. So will a carrot, to the extent that it is able. With consciousness, we become aware of, and responsible for, the good of one another and all others, to the point where we will sacrifice our own good for the good of the whole. Or, some of us will. The more conscious ones of us will. The more conscious we are, the more clearly we recognize that the good of the whole is more important than the good of the part, and that, at some point, they are indistinguishable goods. “Thou art that” in the sense that the other’s good is tied inseparably to our own. We cannot think of ourselves, of our good, as independent from the good of one another, and of all others. And the whole recognizes its responsibility for the good of the parts. Concern for the other flows both ways.

Is that God’s will at work in our lives? With consciousness, we intuit, imagine, perceive a purpose beyond our own purposes at work in our lives. We intuit, imagine, perceive a love beyond our power to love calling us to love more than we are naturally inclined to love. We intuit, imagine, perceive a desire for justice beyond all reason and practicality, urging us, driving us, compelling us to establish “a more perfect union,” and recognize the full implications of understanding that all persons are created equal, and are equal, and must be treated as such. Is that God’s will at work in our lives? Why wouldn’t we acknowledge it as such? And live to serve it with all the intention and awareness we can muster?

Friday, February 24, 2006

02/24/06

It’s hard to know when you are forcing something that can’t be forced and when you are participating in the flow of something that is asking you to do what’s hard. What is the nature of the struggle? Wanting, willing, desiring, are often necessary to the struggle, to the effort to effect the good upon the earth. They bring out the best in us in the work to do what is us. We have to be determined and dedicated in the service of the good, because it isn’t easy to do what needs to be done. We have to beat our heads against some walls, because some walls have no business being.

What is easy is to question our motive and to talk ourselves out of doing what’s hard. What is easy is to lose our resolve; to see resistance as a sign that we should quit; to look at difficulty as evidence that we are not the ones who are “supposed” to do the difficult thing.

Churchill or Gandhi (I’ve seen it attributed to each) said nothing worth doing can be accomplished in a single lifetime. And that doesn’t help us a bit. How do we know if we are working away at something that is worth doing, or wasting our lives in the pursuit of delusion and emptiness, too stubborn or selfish to quit? How many 49er’s spent their lives digging holes to nowhere? How do we know if it is a mine that we are working or a hole that we are digging?

I don’t know of any way of determining whether the path we are on is the one we ought to be on, or if there is another, better path with our name on it somewhere else. This is the path we are on. Are we going to stay with it? Make a decision. That’s the best I can offer. Make a decision, “for better or worse,” and reevaluate it from time to time. Maybe you are one shovel full from turning a hole into a mine. Maybe it will never be anything but a hole. There is no way to know what you should do. What are you going to do? That’s the question. Just make up your mind, that’s the answer.

Of course, you might try listening to your body. Sit down, make yourself comfortable, center yourself by being aware of your extremities and moving into the center of your body with your awareness. Settle into this time and place, and ask “Dig?”, for instance, and see how your body responds. Feel what happens in your body in response to the question. Go to that place, or those places, with your awareness and say, “Hello. What’s behind the (and find the word for what it feels like in your body at that place) tightness (for example) all about?” And listen to what the (tight) place has to say. Then say, “Thank you for that. Is there anything more there?”, and listen again.

When that place is spoken out, see if there are other places in your body that feel something in response to the question, “Dig?”. If so, go through the same exercise with those places. Then ask, “Quit?”, and listen to your body’s response. Our bodies know things our heads are completely clueless about. Yet, our heads often have to get to the end of their rope before they will give our bodies a chance. It isn’t easy, being us.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

02/21/06

Suffer what must be suffered to love what must be loved. That’s my best advice. To love what must be loved the way it must be loved. Not all love is loving. The loving thing is not always the thing we want to do in the name of love, in the cause of love. What love requires is not always what we want to give. What does love require? That’s the tough one. If we only knew! If we only wanted to know! Suffer what must be suffered in the cause of love. That’s my advice. It’s up to you to work out the details.

It’s all in the details. I don’t care what we think, or believe, or espouse, or profess, or proclaim. What’s in the details? What do we see when we look at the details of our lives? To what extent do the people around us benefit from our presence? In what ways are they better of for our being with them? Are we a self engaged in loving relationship with other selves? Are we required to “disappear” in order to maintain our relationship with other selves? If we suffer what must be suffered in the cause of love, does that mean we cease to exist as persons because the relationship cannot bear the truth of who we are? Is the loving thing to disappear, or is the loving thing to walk away? The details are hell.

In a perfect world, relationships would permit, no, require, the full inclusion of all persons, not just meaning that all persons would be welcome, but that all of each person would be welcome. In a perfect world, suffering what must be suffered in the cause of love would mean that all persons in relationship would respect and honor all the other persons in the relationship. Well. You all know how far from perfect this world is.

In this world, it is easy to find relationships which exist at the expense of someone and to the advantage of someone. “As long as I pay the bills, you’ll do it my way.” On whose terms does relationship exist? Upon what does relationship depend? We give up what to get what? Where are we simply welcomed as we are, with no strings attached and no conditions in place? How many relationships do we have where the focus is on the quality of the relationship, with all persons involved doing what needs to be done to tend the relationship, as opposed to working to get what they want from the others in the relationship? Suffering what must be suffered in the cause of love means one thing in relationships based on patronage and power, and another in relationships based on mutual commitment to the common good. Where do we go to find the right kind of relationships in an imperfect world?

The right kind of relationships imply the right kind of people. How many of the right kind of people do we know? My hunch is that we all could use more of the right kind of people in our lives. We’re back to the details here. It doesn’t matter what we think, believe, espouse, profess, proclaim. Are we the right kind of person? What do we need to be the right kind of person? In what ways are we consciously working to become the right kind of person? What is our vision of the right kind of person? Who are the people in our experience who stand out for us as the right kind of person? If you can’t think of an actual person, a fictional person will do. What are we doing to be like they are?

The work is as much to be the right kind of person as it is to find the right kind of people. Being the right kind of company is as important as finding, or falling into, the right kind of company. What constitutes the right kind of company? Who is to say? You are. You are to say. Make the list. Live toward compliance. That’s the spiritual task, path, journey, quest. And, it’s all in the details.

Monday, February 20, 2006

12/20/06, Sermon

I’m amazed, and somewhat depressed, by how relentless we have to be in the service of good, in the service of life, in the service of just getting out of bed again, and putting our shoes on, and stepping into the day to do what needs to be done. It is difficult to work as hard as we work with as little as we have to show for it on any level. Look around you. No one has it easy. No one has enough cooperation or encouragement. No one has enough help. What keeps us going?

That is the question which forms the foundation of religion at its best. What keeps us going is completely irrational, illogical, beyond articulation or understanding. That we keep going is the one thing we cannot defend, justify, excuse or explain. We don’t know why we do it.

No one in her, in his, “right mind” would keep going—through all we have been through, through all we have yet to go through, both individually and as a species, for no more than we are getting out of it! We have come from nowhere to glass and plastic in 6 billion years. We kept plugging away all those years for pink Hummers and Wal Mart? For cell phones and flat screen TV’s? We were out of our, as they say, ever lovin,’ cotton pickin’ minds to do all of that for this! We kept going for Las Vegas and Disneyworld? For iPods and email?

It makes no sense. We can’t make it make sense. We keep going, but no one knows why. We think maybe it has to do with stuff. We think maybe it’s the steady accumulation of stuff that makes the going worthwhile. Well, we could take a field trip to my office and assess the stuff I have piled up there, and we would have to conclude it isn’t about stuff. We don’t know what it’s about. We don’t know what keeps us going, but, we cannot deny that we do.

There it is. The foundation of religion at its best. Mystery. Unfathomable, Inexplicable, Inexpressible, Ineffable, Undeniable. We keep going, but we don’t know why. And, we cannot get to the bottom of it. Anything we tell ourselves is just something we make up to put the question aside. Nothing we say will hold up under scrutiny over time. It is stupid to keep going through all we have been through, through all we have yet to go through, for no more than we have to show for it, for no more than we get out of it. And, yet, we don’t quit.

What more do you need in the way of evidence of transcendent reality? We go as an expression of, and as a search for, that which is beyond words, and concepts, and ideas—for that which is more than we can ask, or think, or imagine, or, certainly, say! We go as evidence of a whole that is more than the sum of its parts—a whole that we glimpse from time to time in the experience of Beauty in art, music and nature, and in the sense of Presence, and Depth, mediated by one another.

We are bearers of Holy Presence. We bring Compassionate, Caring Presence to life in the world. We mediate the Presence of Justice and Peace in the chaotic clash of national pride and personal interest. We stand in the midst of the way it is being done, and do it differently, and do it the way it ought to be done. We redeem the moment. We heal wounded spirits. We restore lost souls. We bring hope to life. We transform perspectives. And we encourage one another by standing as reminders of that which is beyond, yet within, us all.

And then, like that, it passes. And, we snap back into this world of normal, apparent, reality, where they are out of half-and-half at the coffee shop, and we can’t find our W-2 form, and we have to get the dog to the vet again, and we don’t know what keeps us going.

Yin and Yang. Two realities. Flowing into and out of one another. One being lost in and concealed by the other, but springing forth in amazing ways, at unpredictable times, to stun and surprise, and disappear, leaving us to wonder at the truth of its passing and to long for its hoped-for return. Why can’t all moments be like the moment we met the eyes of person at the check out counter and saw a flash of the beauty, and goodness, and depth of life revealed, unveiled, exposed? Why can’t all moments be like the moment we rocked the baby in a communion of souls beyond all expression? Why do we touch the depths of truth only to be yanked to the surface without a decompression chamber, or an air lock, or time for transition and preparation, by the jarring intrusion of “life in the real world”?

A better question, perhaps: Why do we allow the world of normal, apparent reality to claim to be “the real world”? Why do we permit unchallenged its claim to being the only world? Why do we treat this world of normal, apparent reality, as the one that counts, the one that matters? There is nothing in this world to keep us going. This world is a fascinating life support system, but it is not life, and is not to be confused with the source of life, and living, and being alive. This world is like manna in the desert. But we don’t serve the manna. The manna enables us to live in the service of, as mediators of, the world beyond this world, the world beyond the manna. We live in this world as servants of Presence, as expressions of Presence, as the incarnation of Presence, as the emergence of Presence within the structures and systems of the same old same old. We live as evidence of that world to the surprise and consternation, and salvation, of this world. But it isn’t easy.

What’s easy is to forget what we are here for. And so, we gather regularly in this place to remember. We come here to be reminded of Yin and Yang. To hear again about the two worlds. To know once more that we don’t live in the service of glass and plastic, but as agents of grace, mercy, and peace; as emissaries of justice and compassion; as channels of hope and love, as evidence, and sources, of life.

We live to bring Presence to life through the quality of our living in the world of normal, apparent, reality; through the character of our participation in this world of glass and plastic, pink Hummers and Las Vegas. We live in this world—as extensions of, as evidence of, as incarnations of, the other world. But it is hard to remember that in the press of life in this world. Life in this world is shaped to take our minds off that world. Life in this world leads us to think it is the only world. And, yet, there is nothing in this world with the power to keep us going. We don’t keep going in the service of the things of this world. The things of this world can sustain life, but they are not life. To touch life, and be fully alive, we have to maintain our link with the other world.

And, so, we come here to remember, and to stand as reminders of, the things that keep us going; the things that are life; the things that bring us alive. Connection, community, communion; authenticity, realness, genuineness; gentleness, peace, compassion; justice, forgiveness, acceptance, understanding, mercy, love, joy, hope, hospitality; courage and encouragement; endurance; dedication; devotion… The list goes on. And, on the list are the qualities and characteristics, the elements, of life, living, and being alive. These are the things that keep us going.

We keep going to experience and express the elements of life and living, to be alive. This place nurtures life and living, and enables us to be alive. It does that by enabling us to remember who we are and what we are about. We are bearers of Holy Presence, the incarnation of God. We bring God to life through the quality of our living, through the depth of our seeing and hearing, through the unique variety of our awareness, through our ability to be with very nearly everything in healing, helpful, ways.

Of course, I’m blowing smoke here. This place isn’t anything like that. We aren’t anywhere close to being able to pull this kind of thing off. We may as well be a used car lot for all our expertise at mediating Holy Presence. Who are we kidding? But, that’s the idea. The idea is that we will intentionally become the kind of place we aspire to be over time.

We are what we think about. We are what we focus on. We are who we hang out with. If there is ever going to be more to us than pink Hummers and Wal Mart, we have to cultivate the more by spending time with people who, in places that, call us beyond the world of ordinary, apparent, plastic reality to the world of heart, and soul, and spirit, and self. If we are going to live in this world as evidence of, as expressions of, that other world, we are going to have to spend time with people who, in places that, connect us with, ground us in, the wonder of life, and living, and being alive.

What keeps us going is the experience of the wonder of life, and living, and being alive. Where do we find that in the world of glass and plastic? We get only props and promises in that world. That world can dazzle and entertain with its flashing lights and its sleight of hand, but only offers the appearance of life. It cannot sustain life over time. It takes the other world to do that. We come here to remember that, to remember what the deal is that keeps us going.

The deal is that we are the bearers of Holy Presence. We are the incarnation of God. We come here to remember that, so that we might live in the awareness of it, out there, in the world of normal, apparent plastic reality, a little longer each week; a little more frequently each week; blessing the world with glimpses of how things are in the other world, and reminding everyone of what keeps us all going.

Monday, February 13, 2006

02/12/06, Sermon

God always helps believers toward what they want, toward their idea of how things ought to be. Never was a God who gave those devoted to that God things that were radically contrary to their idea of the good. You might say our idea of God serves our idea of what’s good. We serve the God who serves our wants and aspirations.

Of course, we will pay any price to have what we want. We will give up anything to have our idea of the good delivered to our doorstep, with the guarantee of its continuance through the long years of the far distant future. God can ask, and extract, anything of us, from us. But, we fully expect God to hold up God’s end of the bargain. Make no mistake about it, we give to get. It is an investment, not a gift. We do not give ourselves up for nothing.

Getting is the essential motive, the prime orientation, of those who “serve God.” We serve with an eye out for what’s in it for us. We serve with our best interest firmly in mind. All of the hoops we jump through, and they are considerable, have prosperity now, and heaven in the sweet by and by, as their payoff. Take prosperity now and heaven in the sweet by and by off the table, and watch the faithful leave in droves and herds.

But, with prosperity now and heaven in the sweet by and by off the table, something new enters the scene. Now, for the first time, there is the possibility of bringing God to life in the world for no reason. Or, better, for the pure joy of it. For the pure pleasure of bringing God to life in the world and seeing what happens. Now, for the first time, there is the possibility of our living to bring God to life in the world the way a fish swims, the way a dog wags its tail, because that is, we discover, what we do. Now, for the first time, there is the possibility of our being conscious of our unique capacity to imagine and align ourselves with the way of God with no purpose in mind beyond the experience of that affinity.

The experience and expression of the divine/human affinity is what life is all about. God comes to life in us, and through us in the world. And, there is nothing in that for us, beyond the experience of the experience itself. Or, to put it another way, what, do you think, is in it for God? What does God get out of the deal? As with one, so with the other.

The experience of life together with God is what it is “all about” for us; the experience of life together with us is what it is “all about” for God. What we create together is what it is “all about” period.

What did you think? What were you looking for? Are you disappointed? Were you hoping for more? A life of ease and infinite distraction, perhaps? Celebrity status? Servants and valets? Money in the bank and no worries to speak of? The world is filled with things to want. We never have it all, it seems. And, God waits, wondering if we will wake up and realize it isn’t about what we eat, or drink, or put on, or how well we live, but about seeking first, what Jesus called, the kingdom of God, and letting everything else fall into place as it will.

The idea of God waiting on us, not as in serving us; not as in waiting tables and taking our orders, and bringing us a damp cork to sniff and approve; but as in waiting for us to make up our minds; waiting for us to wake up; waiting for us to begin living in ways which align ourselves with the way of God and bring God to life in our lives, and in the world—this idea of God waiting FOR us is seminal and unique in the world of religion. Jesus lives his life in the service of the God who waits.

It came about, don’t you know, in the loss of everything he once believed. Oh, I know some of you think Jesus never changed his mind; never struggled to find his way forward; never thought about giving up. You don’t get to be who Jesus was without paying dearly for the clarity that is yours. Jesus worked out what he believed, as we all must, in the aftermath of the loss of everything he had been told to believe. Let me get specific with you. John the Baptist was arrested and beheaded. And nothing happened.

John the Baptist came preaching about the winnowing fork, and the threshing floor, and the chaff being burned in the fiery wrath of God. John the Baptist came preaching about how the wait was over. You know the wait I’m talking about. The wait of the people. Our wait. We’ve been waiting all these years for God to wake up and come save us and deliver us from the injustices of politics and life, and destroy our enemies, and clean up the mess, and institute the perfect world, where no one takes advantage of anyone and everyone is glad to do what they must to help everyone enjoy life and have a good time. It’s in all the literature. We’re always waiting on God, watching for God. We’re always thinking it can’t get any worse than this, and if God is ever going to come, it must be now. That’s what John the Baptist preached. Herod arrested him and executed him, which made things much worse, and nothing happened. If that isn’t going to stir God to action, what will? What will it take to get God going? What is God waiting on?

Ah, the question. What is God waiting on? That’s the question that puts the train of associations on a new track. Before, we had always associated The Mess of the world with the God who created the world and was thus responsible for The Mess, and would come in time to clean it up. What if God is waiting on us to clean it up? What if God is waiting on us to align ourselves with God, to incarnate God in the wonder of the divine/human affinity, and recreate the world “on the fly”? What if we are to work within the world, within The Mess, to change the world, to change The Mess, like yeast in the dough, like a seed in the earth? What if God is waiting on us? That’s the kind of question that could create a movement.

What happens when The Movement hits The Mess? What happens when The Mess hits back? The mix, the exchange, between Movement and Mess is an extemporaneous, improvisational dance in the moment of our living. There is no plan, no strategy, no scheme, no structure for instituting the Kingdom of God upon the earth. The Kingdom of God is not an institution, it is a Movement. It is episodic. It comes to life here in this way, and there in that way, and it rarely blooms in the same way twice. You cannot calculate the Kingdom of God. you live it. It becomes the living expression of the divine/human affinity. It is always a miracle of justice, compassion, and grace. And it can never happen, any more than Jesus can be raised from the dead. Which frees us wonderfully and graciously from having to figure out how it can happen and carefully plot what must be done to make it happen. It cannot happen! There is nothing to figure out! There is nothing to make happen! There is only the living expression of the divine/human affinity. There is only living in the service of grace, mercy, and peace; there is only doing justice and living with compassion for all things; and letting the outcome be the outcome.

What must we do? Who knows? Jesus didn’t have a plan. Jesus healed who was before him and said what was on his mind. That was Jesus’ plan. And it changed the world. The more we think about it, the more impossible it becomes. So, don’t think about it. Jesus never advises thinking about it. Jesus never tells us to figure it out. Jesus just says, “Come, follow me.” Jesus just tells us to take up the work of expressing, exhibiting, incarnating the divine/human affinity and letting the outcome be the outcome.

Of course, the church cannot be the church (as it ought to be the church) and pay the bills! Of course, you can’t do justice and make a profit! We don’t have a program! We have a movement! What must we do? Find the cracks! Plug the holes! Demand that the world do a better job of doing right by its citizens, of easing their burden and lightening their load!

What must we do? Become the right kind of company! Heal the sick! Raise the dead! Proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God! Live in ways that are aligned with the way of God! Live in ways that express, exhibit, incarnate and make real the divine/human affinity in each moment of our living! Take up the cause of the “widow and the orphan,” of the marginalized and ignored, of the outcast and the exiled—with the full understanding that “the harvest is plentiful, and the laborers are few,” and “the poor will be with you always,” and we will never get it done.

We will never clean up The Mess. We will never get rid of The Mess. And, when we think we must, we are thinking like the world we would transform. Here’s the thing. We have come here into this space for well over eight years now, and I have talked to you about the church of our experience, and how it needs to be changed, and what we are doing here to change it. Well. The world of our experience also needs to be changed. We are here to change the church and to change the world. And, we will never get it right. We will never run out of things to change, either about the church of our experience, or about the church we are endeavoring to become, or about the world of our experience, or about the world we are bringing into being. We are here to make the church as it ought to be, and to make the world as it ought to be, and we will never complete the task. So what? Do you understand the importance of doing what must be done, even though it won’t “bring in the kingdom”? It IS the kingdom! Do you understand that doing what must be done IS the kingdom?

It’s a Mess out there. And God is with us as a full partner in making things more like they ought to be than they are. It’s a Mess out there, and God is waiting on us, for us, to align ourselves and our lives with the way of God—to exhibit, and express, and incarnate the divine/human affinity in each moment of our living. It’s a Mess out there, and God is waiting on us, for us, to live in ways that change the church, that change the world. And, the question, of course, is: What are we waiting on?

Thursday, February 09, 2006

12/09/06

How far beyond “the practice of the Presence of God” do we think we get? What else do we think there is? Practicing the Presence of God means bringing God to life in our lives. What more could there be? Let’s get that down and see where things are then.

What would it mean, do you think, for us to be Present as God would be Present? What do we need to do to mediate the Presence of God in this world of normal, apparent reality? How do our lives need to change in order to live as Holy Presence, Compassionate Presence, Caring Presence, Attentive Presence, Just Presence in the world? How do we need to see in order to see as God sees? How do we need to hear to hear as God hears? How do we need to be with to be with as God is with? How far from our interest, needs, and agenda can we get in order to be as God in the world? What do we do to move away from us as we are and toward God as God is?
There you are. Answer those questions properly, and you are exactly where you need to be. And, all the angels in heaven will give you a rousing ovation. The world will be transformed. And all will be well. Or, you will be executed, and your followers will forget the answers, and then forget the questions, and we will be back to square one. Again.

But, don’t let that possibility stop you. Bring God to life in your life and see what happens. It beats standing in line at Wal Mart for more glass and plastic.

+++

You take the old, reliable, newspaper report essentials: Who, What, When, Where, Why, How, and apply them in tracking the moment-to-moment fluxuation of our identity over time, say, over the duration of our lives, and you get, Who are we? What are we? When are we? Where are we? Why are we? How are we? (And the related questions, What are we about? What are we doing here, now? What are we trying to do? What makes us think it should be done? How well is it working? What can we imagine doing instead?). There you are. That should do it. Except, of course, for the missing ingredient. Someone who can talk through these things with you.

Once you have the Attentive Presence in place, then it’s a matter of identifying yourself “in the moment” And, we have to be careful not to think it’s applicable in all moments, in all times and places, as some eternal depiction of our character and style. It isn’t. Identity evolves, flows, develops in response to its context. Who we are, depends on where we are, when we are, how we are, why we are, what we are and what we are after, up to, about. Take us out of our context, and we will be lost for a while, and won’t know “who we are.” We will have to sit still, and wait for something to happen, in order to then begin the process of bringing ourselves into focus and being a self in relationship to our context once more. This lostness, this casting about, this not knowing who we, are happens in the aftermath of traumatic disruptions of life. It takes a while to reform our identity when we are “between lives.” And, it helps dramatically to have the company of Attentive Presence who can help us remember the questions and come up with the answers.

Identity is only part of the work of being human. There is also the matter of Integrity. That is, living in ways that are integral with who we are and with what matters most to us; living in ways that are aligned with that which is deepest, best, and truest about us. And, there are the matters of Vision, Focus, Purpose, Clarity, and Awareness. What is our idea of the future? What are we living toward? What are we striving for? What is the nature of our motivation? For what are we living? What is truly important? What keeps us going?

Are you beginning to see that the work of being human is a very spiritual enterprise? It deals with the “essential abstractions.” What we are about is, in essence, nothing. It cannot be weighed, or measured, or quantified, or dissected, or examined. It can only be imagined. Intuited. “Felt.” Sensed. Experienced. What matters most is a function of heart, and mind, and soul, and spirit. The work of being human is the work of taking spiritual essence and giving it physical form. How does love look, for example. How shall we create a physical environment that nurtures our need for spiritual realization and expression?

We have to do the work of being human within a world, within a physical context, that has its own ideas of what is important, its own agenda, and its own ways of imposing itself upon all comers. Wow. Are you beginning to see how important the church is as a physical place in the physical universe that intentionally creates a safe space in which the work of being human can be done? The work of the church is the work of being human. We do that work by developing the skills of Attentive, Caring, Compassionate Presence.

Mindfulness, Attention, Awareness, Perceptivity. These are the tools of the trade, so to speak. These are the things which enable us to do the work of the church. The work of the church is hearing, seeing, understanding, knowing with a quality of compassion and acceptance that does not leave things as they are. The work of the church is being with the world in a way that changes, transforms, heals, restores, saves the world. The work of the church is being with us, with one another, in a way that changes, transforms, heals, restores, saves us, one another. The work of the church is the work of being with what is in a way that heightens (or deepens) awareness and occasions transformation.

Awareness changes things. Sometimes instantly. Sometimes over time. Knowing how things are changes how things are. The path to transformation is any path walked with awareness over time. If you are going to become anything, become aware. Become mindful. Become awake. Become attentive. Become perceptive.

Things stay as they are through denial, diversion, distraction, dismissal, and defection. When the church exists to take our minds off our lives, with talk of “pie in the sky by and by,” for instance, or with talk of “the rapture,” or “the apocalypse,” the church becomes an extension of the world. Nothing needs to change if we aren’t going to be here to suffer the way things are, of if we can escape in happy fantasies of the world to (soon) come. Awareness of painful realities is so painful, and we cannot bear the pain, so “Come, Lord Jesus!”, and “How long, O Lord?” The church that hides from the world, or denies the world, is no threat to the world, and cannot be the hope of the world.

The church has to tell the world what it is doing, and listen the world to what it needs to do instead. The church has to “bear witness” to the world’s “drift from the truth”; to it’s departure from the way that is good, and bring to awareness the way things are. That is the magic that changes everything.

Monday, February 06, 2006

02/06/06

I’d say our work is cut out for us. Learning to listen on all levels, to all people, places, and things, is quite the goal. We don’t even listen to our bodies. How can we hope to listen to the clash of contraries in our lives and in our world? We seem to think that our first order of business is erecting a defense from which we can launch assaults upon the defensive positions of those about us. We spend our time battering, and being battered by, those who don’t see it as we do, with no one listening to anyone, and everyone trying to have her, or his, views prevail over those of everyone else. Who listens to us ever, anywhere in our lives? Where do we go to be heard? How many sentences can you voice on a matter that is dear to your heart before you are confronted, converted, dismissed, or condemned—or, simply ignored, with the subject being changed, and the conversation shifted to another level, or direction?

Take this as your homework assignment. Count the number of sentences you get to speak on some subject that is truly important to you before being forced on the defense, dismissed, or ignored. Then, count the number of sentences you are able to listen to without challenging, confronting, attacking, dismissing, or ignoring. My hunch is that by week’s end, you will have to conclude that hearing and being heard are rare events in the experience of the species. We do a lot of talking, but not much listening. That has to change.

Listening/hearing, looking/seeing, are the essential components of knowing/understanding which is the foundation of being/living. Or, did you think it was telling/shouting, commanding/ordering? Or, maybe you thought it was attacking/denouncing, bulldozing/demolishing? The verbal equivalent of cruise missiles and smart bombs? That seems to be the basis of civilization as we know it. Argument and debate, not hearing, seeing, understanding.

Listening is time consuming. And, it is not achievement oriented, project driven or goal directed. You start listening, and who knows where you will wind up? It is not the way to get things done. So, we tell people what to do, where to do it, how to do it, and by when to have it done. Getting things done under budget and ahead of schedule is the way we want things done. We don’t have time and energy to waste on anything else. Time is money, you know. So, get to the point and move on!

I don’t see the culture changing. But, we can do better. We can create listening posts, listening stations, listening rooms. We can lean to listen. We can listen one another to the heart of the matter, any matter. We can cultivate the art. We can produce listening environments. We can do that much.

In order to do that much, however, we have to believe in listening as an end in itself. We do not listen to then be able to recommend a course of action or offer sage advice. We listen to listen. That’s it. No advice, sage or otherwise (No parsley, say, rosemary or thyme). No counsel. No fixes. No solutions. Just listening.

Who just listens, these days? Who believes in just listening? Practically no one, it seems. Though, there are some. Quakers have Clearness Committees. A few people are lucky enough to have found their way into Circles of Trust. The rest of us are on our own. And, not withstanding the established, and well documented, fact that over-statement is what I do best, the future of civilization depends on our listening and being listened to.

Here’s why. The old spiritual saying says, “Nothing has quite the transformative, salvific, impact of a path—any path—walked with compassion and awareness.” Or, as it is sometimes phrased, “The path of transformation is any path walked with awareness.” The assumption here, of course, is that compassion and awareness equal justice. If you don’t think that is the case, then you have to add justice to the mix.

Awareness is the result of seeing and hearing. We look and see. We listen and hear. And we deal compassionately, justly, with what is seen and heard. And that transforms, saves, the world. Magically, you might say. The magical mixture, the pixie dust, so to speak, is seeing and hearing with compassion and justice for what is seen and heard.

We cannot see and hear and live as we have always lived. Seeing and hearing changes things. Everything. Changes us. Changes the way we live, and move, and have our being. Nothing is the same after we see and hear. The path to transformation is any path walked with compassion and awareness (and justice).

Which means that nothing is quite the threat to life as we know it, to life as it is being lived around us, as seeing and hearing. Which means that everything is geared to rendering seeing and hearing impossible. The status does not become quo by allowing people to see and hear, don’t you see? It is not in civilization’s best interest to be seen and heard. So, no one listens. No one looks. Or, listening and looking, no one hears, or sees.

If you want to be a part of the revolution, you have to remove the blinders and take off the headset, and begin to look and see, listen and hear. To be a part of the revolution, you have to live with awareness of, and compassion for, what is going on around, and within, you. That is the non-violent, courageous, act that shakes the foundations. Don’t believe me? Try it out. See what happens. But, be warned. The life of a revolutionary is not drip dry, stain proof, wrinkle resistant and trouble free.

+++

It takes time to be seen, and heard, and known. It takes time to establish yourself, and build trust, and be accepted into someone else’s world. People who rush to welcome you without taking the time, without allowing the time, for seeing and hearing and knowing, do neither you nor themselves any favors. There is a “break-in period” for all relationships, a time for “being with,” and seeing, exploring, “what’s there.”

In the ministry, it takes between six and ten years for a congregation to begin to trust you, and for you to be able to trust yourself to a congregation. All that time, of course, you are being who you are and they are being who they are, and everyone is saying, “Is this who you are?” “Is this who you are?” And, if somebody is not being who they are, it blows the whole thing.

So, we have to be ourselves before we can trust the other to receive us gently and treat us lovingly. We create what we need by acting as though it is there before it is. Which, as you might guess, has a certain propensity for a down-side. But, after a while, if you survive, you get better at reading who is faking it and who is not; at knowing where the authenticity is, and where it isn’t; at trusting the rhythm of relationship without having to check its vital signs, or live on the edge of your seat, wondering if it’s real.

It takes a certain confidence in oneself to withstand the suspense of relationship over time—to trust ourselves to something we aren’t sure is trustworthy. We have to trust ourselves. We have to trust ourselves to be okay, to figure things out, to find a way, to deal with what happens regardless of what happens. It is only in trusting ourselves that we have what it takes to take the risks of relationship in being ourselves before we can be certain that the relationship can sustain the full weight of who we are. And, where do you get that confidence? Let’s rephrase the question. What is it going to take to convince you that you have what it takes to take what comes and keep going? To take what comes and do what can be done with it? Where have you been flattened, overwhelmed, demolished, devastated, destroyed, rendered kaput, and didn’t get up, take a deep breath, dust yourself off and step back into your life? What makes you think you cannot handle whatever happens? What, really, do you have to lose?

02/05/06, Sermon

How are we going to overthrow the world? What’s the nature of the revolution? Civilization has always been at odds with the way it ought to be done. You can call that “the way God would do it,” or “the way God would have it done,” or “the way of God.” Or, you could call it “the way it ought to be done.” It’s all the same, and civilization exists to desecrate the way it ought to be done. The “more” advanced the civilization, the greater the desecration.

Civilization is concerned with the acquisition and accumulation of wealth, of goods and services. It is a social, political, economic invention to ease our way. It is an approximation of our idea of “the good life,” but it doesn’t have anything to do with the good. We don’t know what is good. We only know what is good for us. And, we create civilization to help us get it.

Civilization is at odds with God. Civilization is a substitute for God. Civilization is our way of getting what God wouldn’t give us. Civilization is our way of taking care of ourselves. Of course, that is always at the expense of some other selves. But, that is too bad for them, and it really isn’t our problem. Somebody has to pay for our good times. That’s just the way it is.

Talk to the destitute in any civilization since the beginning of civilization about how things ought to be, and you’ll get the vision of the Heavenly City, with no tear in any eye and a chicken in every pot. It’s the same utopian vision across the board. Everybody has enough. No one has too little or too much. Everyone loves one another as they love themselves. Everyone lives in the service of everyone else. Everyone does right by everyone else. It’s a sharing, caring culture, and things are exactly as they ought to be. Of course, if the destitute have been banged around enough, there is also the idea of sweet revenge where the stupid bad guys get what is coming to them.

We have to take our consolation where we find it, it seems. The utopian vision keeps us going in the face of the complete absence of anything worth having and then some. The wealthy amass more than they could possibly need, or use, and the poor long for the day when they just have enough. That is the story of civilization. What keeps the story going? What chance do we have of changing it? It seems to be the inevitable outcome of “the human condition.” We are built, you might say, to “lord it over” one another. How do we overthrow ourselves? What is the nature of THAT revolution?

When we get down to the heart of the matter, we discover that we are talking about your heart, and mine. Civilization is a mirror reflecting who we are to the core. If we are going to change civilization, we are going to have to change us. How different can we be? How far into transformation can we go before we draw a line and say, “This is all I can stand”?

The far extreme might be a vow of poverty and celibate asceticism. That’s about as counter-cultural (in any culture) as it gets. Communal living is somewhere on the continuum. Writing checks to charity is somewhere else. Having an occasional twinge about homelessness or the destruction of the environment would have a place. What form shall our protest take? How shall we register our opposition to the way things are done? How shall we clarify our vision and express our emerging sense of how things ought to be? And, what do we do about the realization that we don’t have what it takes to do what needs to be done? We like the idea of disposable income. We know from personal experience that having enough lends itself to imagining what we could do with more, and that train never stops at a station. What shall we do with us?

The old spiritual saw, some would say “cop out,” says “Start with where you are. Work with what you have.” Feel that twinge. Write that check. Carry those old clothes to Good Will. Help build that Habitat House. Serve food at the homeless shelter. See the poor around you. Live consciously, mindfully, of the children who have no books at home, no computers or game boys to develop the skills that would get them beyond minimum wage in the world. Pay attention to the way you are living and to the way life is being lived around you. See what happens. See where the path—any path—walked attentively, with awareness and mindfulness, leads.
The old spiritual saw, some would say “absurdity,” says, “The nature of the revolution is a life lived with awareness.” Begin the revolution! Open your eyes! Of course, you know there is a catch. There is always a catch.

The catch here is that once we see, we have to live as those who have seen. We have to live as those who cannot forget what they have seen. Seeing things changes things. Hearing what must be heard changes things. If you want to change the world, see, and hear, everything, including everything about yourself. If you want a plan for changing the world, develop a plan for seeing the world as it is, for hearing the world as it is. Look and see! Listen and hear! That’s the plan!

George Bush cannot hear Cindy Sheehan because he knows what she is going to say. Cindy Sheehan cannot hear George Bush because she knows what he is going to say. The Israelis cannot hear the Palestinians; the Palestinians cannot hear the Israelis; because both know what the other is going to say. They all have heard it before. If we only hear what we have heard before, we are not listening to the heart of what is being said. If we are only repeating what we have always said, we are not saying all there is to say. The trick is to sit with one another and speak from the heart, and listen to the heart, with understanding and compassion for what is to be said. Where, in your experience, have you been heard all the way to the center of your soul? Where have you listened that deeply—to yourself or someone else? It is this level of deep listening, with understanding and compassion for what is said, that transforms the world.

The Danish cartoonists who drew Muhammad-themed cartoons in September of 2005 for the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten as a deliberate experiment testing the limits of freedom of speech were within their rights as western journalists to express themselves in print. And, they were beyond the boundaries of civility, mutuality of respect and common decency, but no one in the west is likely to understand what’s the big deal. Everyone in the west is likely to recoil with horror and disgust at the reaction of the youth branch of Pakistan’s largest religious party, Jamaat-e-Islami, which offered a bounty for murdered cartoonists. Which is more offensive, to draw a picture of Muhammad or to murder the cartoonist who drew the picture? Your answer will depend upon where you sit, upon where you live, upon what you think and how you came to think it.

Forgetting, for the moment who is right here, and who is wrong, and how we know, and who is to say, let’s put you in a room with the Danish cartoonists and the offended Muslims. How long do you think it will be before they are able to hear one another? Which side, do you think, is most likely to listen deeply to, and care sincerely about, the perspective of the other? What could you do to facilitate that listening with understanding and compassion for what the other has to say? Do you begin to appreciate the difficultly in simply listening deeply, with understanding and compassion, to what is to be said?

At what point is the right to—and not only the right to, but the absolute necessity of—free speech compromised by the other’s ability to hear what we have to say? By the other’s willingness to permit us to say what we have to say? If we “bite our tongue” out of deference to the other’s sensibilities, where do we go to “spill our guts”? There are some things that cannot be said in some places, to some people. But, there must be some places in which, and some people to which, anything and everything can be said. Do we live to invoke gag orders or to enable deep listening?

It seems apparent to me that some members of the Greensboro Truth and Reconciliation Task Force cannot hear anything negative about the Communist Workers’ Party and its part in contributing to the events of November 3, 1979—or allow anything negative to be said. To say that the CWP was at fault in any way is to be seen as “blaming the victim,” and labeled a white, privileged, middle-class, Southern, racist. So much for truth or reconciliation. How do we get past the barriers to hearing in order to listen one another to the deep truth of our perceptions and perspective? When there is something that cannot be said and heard, where is the hope of transformation? As long as we tip-toe around the egg shells, and carefully ignore the dead elephant on the dining room table, and pretend there is no stench in the air, nothing changes. At what point does our sensitivity to the needs of the other to be protected from the truth of our perspective begin to poison our own souls and become detrimental to our ability to see, and hear, and know the truth of our own perspective? Where do we go to be able to say what must be said? And, where are we, like the offended Muslims, cutting off the possibility of conversation because we cannot consider the perspective we are bound to hear? What must people not say to us? What are we unable to hear? What can we not allow ourselves to see?

Are you beginning to understand how difficult it is to change the world? It is so much easier to tell the world what it must do to change. Listening the world to the truth of its own perspective requires us to hear things that change us. And, as long as that is a door we will not open, things will remain exactly as they are, in spite of all of our protests and denunciations.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

01/31/06

John Dominic Crossan (in “The Birth of Christianity” and “The Historical Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography”), along with other biblical scholars, archeologists, and anthropologists, deals with the healing miracles of Jesus by making a distinction between “curing diseases” and “healing illnesses.” You might say it takes a Real Physician, with all the accoutrements of her, or his, trade at her, at his, disposal to “cure diseases.” But, anyone with the right attitude and sense of Presence about her, or him, can “heal illnesses.”

The “illness” is the social and cultural and political and economic impact of the “disease.” The “illness” is what the “disease” means in the life of the person who is “sick.” It is how the “disease” both affects, and effects, her or him. Lift that burden, lighten that load, alter that impact, change the way the “disease” is perceived and carried by the person who is “sick,” and, perhaps, by all those person in her, or his, social circle, and you “heal the illness” which may, or may not, “cure the disease.” Crossan uses the movie “Philadelphia,” where Tom Hanks plays the part of a gay lawyer with AIDS, to illustrate how a person can be healed of an illness without being cured of the disease.

Bring that idea into your life and into mine. Physicians, and the entire medical industry, are swamped these days with sickness and disease. Physicians can’t spend fifteen minutes with one patient before the next one is banging on the door, demanding to come in. Physicians are in a race with time each day to see patients and cure diseases. And, they often prescribe medication for a disease that doesn’t touch the illness.

Crossan (in “The Birth of Christianity,” p. 296) quotes Rodney Stark as saying, “Modern medical experts believe that conscientious nursing without any medications could cut the mortality rate (of epidemics) by two-thirds or even more.” The right kind of company can heal illness and, in some cases, cure diseases. Imagine a physician’s office with a waiting room, and listening rooms, and examination rooms. Imagine listening rooms staffed by volunteers (people like you and me) who are practiced at the art of being the right kind of company. Imagine patients being listened to in caring ways for twenty or thirty minutes before seeing the physician (you wait that long alone in an examination room, currently). Imagine the potential for good in the lives of diseased persons that kind of healing experience could make. Wonder with me why it isn’t happening.

Why isn’t medical science enabling it to happen, and why aren’t we doing everything we can, right now, to hone our skills in the art of being the right kind of company? If caring Presence can heal illnesses, why aren’t we doing everything we can to learn how to be a caring Presence in the lives of others? Why isn’t that the primary focus of the educational program of every church in the world? What could possibly be more important than being the right kind of company? Than being a caring, healing, Presence on the loose and running freely through the world?

Monday, January 30, 2006

01/30/06, Sermon

The perspective I’m working from says we have to live our lives, and we have to have something worth living for, and we have to help one another, and all others, live their lives and find something worth living for. We have to hold things together for ourselves, and we have to live in ways that we would be proud of, and we have to help others do the same. We have to solve the problem of food, clothing, and shelter, and we have to solve the problem of why solving the first problem is important. We have to solve the problem of the purpose of solving the problem of food, clothing and shelter; the problem of what is beyond food clothing and shelter; the problem of why bother. And, we have to help others solve both problems as well. That’s my perspective. That’s what it’s about from my point of view.

Now, there are perspectives all over the place out there. This is only one. Why should you prefer it over all the others? “Money is all that matters!” Why not go for the “money is all that matters” motive? “You only go around once—grab as much as you can!” Why not “grab as much as you can”? I don’t know if you have recently, or ever, tried to talk someone into or out of a perspective, but, if you haven’t, you owe it to yourself to give it a whirl. Make a project of it. Reform your spouse or life partner, or a parent, or a child, or your neighbor next door, say, by dinner, tonight. Let me know how it goes.

One great way to NOT be the church as the church ought to be is to tell people they ought to do it the way you are doing it, the way we are doing it, and why. The way to be the church as the church ought to be the church is to do it the way you are doing it, and let them do it the way they are doing it. No kidding. The way you are doing it is enough. That is as reformative as you have to be. The way you are doing it, particularly, if you are truly doing it as it should be done, will eventually, have implications for the way it is being done around you. That’s when the stuff will hit the fan.

If John Dominic Crossan were talking to you, he would tell you that the Kingdom of God movement that Jesus created was a brand new thing in the realm of movements. It was launched in direct and intentional opposition to the “kingdom of god” that was Pax Romana. Rome had the monopoly on the phrase “kingdom of god,” and, of course, Rome meant the “kingdom of Caesar,” and, since Caesar was god, the “kingdom of God” would be thought of in Roman terms. Caesar was the savior of the world. Jesus deliberately comes up with a Kingdom Movement that was the opposite of Rome in every way.

“You have heard it said, but I say unto you…” Don’t take that to be only about Old Testament theology. “This is the way you see it being done, but this is the way it is to be done…” “This is the way Rome does it, but this is the way God would do it.” The Kingdom Movement is about doing it the way God would do it. It is about living our lives as God would live them in our place. And, we think, “Oh, we can’t do that. Are you crazy? We don’t have the almighty power of God at our disposal. Who can live like God when we aren’t God?” To which Jesus would say, “You can.” And then he would redefine God before our eyes. He would take that almighty, omnipotent, invincible stuff right off the table, and lay out there, a loaf of bread and a cup of wine.

And, if that doesn’t wake you up, if you still don’t get it, he would scootch over the bread and the cup, and he would plop onto the table the manger and the cross. And, if you still don’t get it, he would put on the table the Good Samaritan and the prodigal’s father. And, if you still don’t get it, he would sit on the table himself. And, if you still don’t get it, he would roll his eyes, slide everything into a knapsack, fold up the table, and walk away muttering to himself, shaking his head. It seems that not everyone is ready at the same time for the Kingdom Movement. It takes a while to be able to see what it is all about. And you can’t change a perspective before its time.

Fundamental to the Movement is the redefinition of God. Jesus’ God is not the warrior God of the Old Testament, and Pat Robertson, and Jerry Falwell, and George Bush, and the Book of Revelation. Jesus’ God is vulnerable and helpless and unrelenting, like yeast in the dough, or a seed in the earth, or a wheat plant which, in dying, produces more wheat than it ever could alive.

The signs of the Kingdom of God, which Jesus saw as already present in the world, were things like healing Presence, exemplified in transformations of body and spirit, and human equality, exemplified in sharing from the heart the things that matter, and radical non-violence, exemplified in the no staff, no sword, no purse directive. It was a stupid way to carry out a revolution. And, it was still standing when all things Roman had fallen away.

Jesus was the leader of a political, social, cultural, and religious revolution, the likes of which the world has never seen—and the foundation of which was a radically alternative perspective, which envisioned, and lived out of, a radically alternative reality. “You have heard it said, but I say unto you…” Read the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew, chapters 5, 6, and 7) as a political, social, cultural, and religious manifesto. Jesus’ perspective is a threat to every perspective! Jesus’ perspective is a challenge to all perspectives! Jesus had a vision of how things are and ought to be, and lived out of it—without trying to talk anyone out of theirs and into his (“If you enter a village or a town and they don’t receive what you have to say,” he said, “walk on to the next village or town”).

Jesus’ vision was for those who had eyes to see and ears to hear. It was not for everyone. And, Jesus didn’t try to convince anyone that his was the right way to see and hear. He simply lived out of his vision before the people, and let the outcome be the outcome. The way he did it, eventually had implications for the way it was being done around him. That’s when the stuff hit the fan.

From Jesus on, there has been confusion among his followers, among his companions on the journey, on the way to seeing, hearing, knowing, understanding, and living as those who see, hear, know, and understand—there has been confusion about who God is and who we are to be. The term “kingdom of God” has been used in ways that are completely contrary to Jesus’ original depiction, namely a “kingdom without walls” (or geographical boundaries, or standing armies, or social programs, or a gross national product, etc.), a kingdom that is already, presently, right now, “cast upon the earth,” as a radically alternative reality to the kingdom of Rome, of Caesar, in particular, and to all of the kingdoms, and empires, and governments of the world, in general.

Those of you who know me, know I get a kick out of saying that Jesus hadn’t been dead fifteen minutes before everything he stood for changed. Two things in particular happened to transform Jesus’ message. The first is that a hierarchy was created. Peter became “the head of the church,” with “the twelve” following him in importance, and “the rest of the apostles” bringing up the rear. Jesus dies, and there is an immediate jockeying for position and power, with the idea of proximity to Jesus being the determining factor regarding who is “in” and who is “out.”

Peter is “in,” but he is not without his detractors. The gospels are written one to two generations after Jesus’ execution, and there it is “remembered” that Peter denied Jesus. Why was that important to be remembered, do you think? If Peter had been more popular, it could have easily been forgotten, or presented in a more favorable light. Thomas is just above Judas in the pecking order of importance, and is remembered to this day as “Doubting Thomas,” because of his insistence on seeing the risen Jesus. The disciples as a whole were said to be “doubtful” (actually it is said they didn’t believe the words of the women announcing Jesus’ resurrection), but only Thomas is singled out (by John) for shame and humiliation. What was it about Thomas that John didn’t like? And, speaking of John, he is the only gospel writer to talk of “the disciple that Jesus loved.” Now, who would that be? Himself? It wasn’t Peter or Thomas, of that we can be sure. But he is creating a foundation for himself by saying through all the ages, “Jesus loved me best!” The establishment of a hierarchy was the first thing that changed with Jesus’ death.

The second way Jesus’ message was changed after his death has to do with the orientation toward the future. Jesus had said, “Take no thought of tomorrow, but let today’s own trouble be sufficient for today” (or words to that effect). With Jesus’ death, the disciples began to talk about the immediate future as the time of Jesus’ return to set things right. The shift toward apocalypseticisim and the emphasis upon the coming “wrath of God” was a dramatic reversal of Jesus’ message of radical non-violence, and his imagery about the yeast in the dough and the seed in the earth. With Jesus, the present moment was the time in which his followers were to act to heal, create equality, and live non-violently in the service of the best that could be imagined here and now. Healing, equality, and non-violence were the hallmarks of Jesus’ idea of how it ought to be. Where did the book of Revelation come from? It came from the radical abandonment of what Jesus was all about.

Living in the moment to heal and create equality non-violently was not nearly as much fun as spinning fantasies about God coming “soon” to deliver destruction to the bad guys, right wrongs, and institute justice and peace forever. We tend to want a better deal than Jesus got. And, we tend to live in the service of what we want. It’s the story at the heart of the scriptures. God is not who we want God to be. And, we have yet to come to terms with that, face that, acknowledge that, turn from that, and take up the work of healing, equality, and non-violence, living as God would live in our place, here and now, in this moment and all moments flowing from this one.

But the option is always before us. And the hope is that we will wake up, and take each moment of our lives, and live there as Jesus would live there, as God would live there, and transform the world, one moment at a time.

Friday, January 27, 2006

01/27/06

There is no ideal arrangement. No optimal steady state. No lasting configuration of the way it ought to be. All we get are momentary flashes. A glimpse, a hint, an ephemeral sense of the possibilities, a taste of what could be. We see, from time to time, how things might be only if. And, then it is gone. And we are wondering how we could be out of coffee, or what happened to the half-and-half.

We place too much emphasis on getting things right. Not that things shouldn’t be as right as we can make them. Not that we should be satisfied with “government work.” Not that we shouldn’t keep the house dusted and vacuumed, and the leaves out of the gutters. We certainly should do the things that need doing. And this is exactly my point. We will never get them done. We should just do the things that need doing. And, when we think of, or see, something else that needs doing, we should do it as well. That’s it.

We aren’t trying to achieve perfection here. We aren’t out to arrange the world like it ought to be by nightfall, or in our lifetime. We are just doing what needs to be done. Right now. In this moment. And, letting that be that.

And, we have to draw the line. We have to say, “I know that needs doing, but I need a nap. I’ll see you in the later.” There have to be overriding commitments. “I’m going to take a walk.” I can’t think of many things that trump a nap or a walk. Or a cup of coffee. We have to take a solemn oath to do the things that really need doing, and get to the other things as we are able. We have to know what is important. We have to draw lines.

We are much too driven by the compulsion to serve someone else’s needs at the expense of our own. It is right to take our lunch hour to visit a neighbor in the hospital, but it isn’t right to take our lunch hour to nap in the car. My advice is that you work the things that are important to you, personally, into every day. Certainly into every week. Putting ourselves last all the time is no more admirable, or healthy, than putting ourselves first all the time. We are working to integrate our needs with what has need of us. Get that down, and that’s truly it. There is nothing else to consider, ponder, or worry about. And, we can’t do that without drawing lines.

Drawing lines means saying “No.” There are two necessary skills: Saying “No.” And, taking “No” for an answer. Get those babies down, so that you know when to do which, and you have it made. Or, close enough. Which do you do best? Is it easier for you to say “No,” or to take “No” for an answer? Spend the next week doing what’s hard. Practice your “inferior skill.” Look at it as one more thing that needs doing.

We never run out of things that need doing. We never get it done. We never get to quit, except on those occasions when quitting needs doing. But, then we only quit one thing to pick up another. So, we aren’t trying to achieve some Golden Age where things are exactly as they should be. We are just puttering around, trying to get things more like they ought to be than they are. Living this moment as well as we are able, and doing it again in the next moment. And, being conscious of the importance of incarnating God in every moment.

Did I say “incarnating God”? You might know I would add something ridiculous to the pile. Of course, we hear the phrase so often, it sounds doable, but not. The God-like qualities are the biggie. Whose idea of God are we going to incarnate? The people who denigrate homosexuals have an idea of God. The people who blow up themselves and other people with them have an idea of God. Would the real God please stand up? The real God is practically invisible. Practically incognito. Practically unrecognizable. Practically gone. In exile. Banished to the far outback of the distant hinterlands by the clamoring hoard of Mighty Sleek Pretenders to the Title.

Whose God is God, is the question. The world is full of possibilities. Maybe we should take a vote. How else will we ever decide? We could have run-off elections. That would be better than shooting it out, which seems to be the popular method of determining whose God is God. After the smoke clears away, the real God is still standing. You have to admit that it is hard to match the sheer stupidity of this approach. But, what are we going to do?

Whose idea of God are we gong to incarnate in the moments of our living? What are the God-like qualities that we are going to enflesh with our flesh, aerate with the oxygen in our blood? Who is to say? How do we know?

Why would you believe me—take my word for it—adopt my view—over Jerry Falwell, or Pat Robertson, or Joel Osteen, or Rick Warren, or the Mormons, or the Muslims, or the Orthodox Jews, or the Reformed Jews, or the Hindus, or the Tibetan Buddhists, or the Cambodian Buddhists, or the Bahais, or any of the rest of the ten million ideas of God? I’d say you have a problem. Everything hangs on how you solve it, and there is no solution in sight. Is there any wonder that so many people say to hell with religion in all forms? Who can blame them? It, at least, solves the problem of having an insoluble problem. It’s taking a sword to the Gordian Knot. But, even then, they have to live in light of something, toward something, away from something. They can say to hell with religion if they want to, but they have to have some idea of what is worth their life.

We cannot escape the need for an organizing principle, a core value, or core values, around which our lives coalesce. We cannot live well without some sense, some idea, of who we are and what we are about. I don’t care who you are, where you are, when you are, it comes down to Identity, Focus, Purpose, Vision, Clarity, and Awareness. There has to be something at the center, something pulling us forward, something pushing us on.

We cannot avoid the question. Who do you say God is? What are you going to do about it?

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

01/22/06, Sermon

Encouragement. Direction. Affirmation. How about that for a Holy Trinity? There are days when we feel all alone here. Days when we think we have gone about as far as plastic can carry us. Days when we realize we have to build a life on something, around something, toward something, and we don’t know what that is. We have a job, which pays us enough to pay the bills, but, sometimes, we lose sight of why we are paying the bills. There are days we would die for encouragement, direction, affirmation.

On those days, it would help to be heard. Where can we go to say what we have to say to those who can listen and hear what we are saying? I think we can talk ourselves through hopelessness and despair if we have those who can hear us well. And ask the right questions at the right time. The questions that carry us deeper into our experience, not out of it, or away from it, and enable us to explore it, and to see it, eventually, from a different perspective. There is no substitute for the right kind of company. In the presence of the right kind of company, we find all the encouragement, direction, and affirmation we need.

The culture is not geared to produce the right kind of company. It is not to the culture’s advantage. The culture is geared to produce the right-kind-of-company-substitutes. There are self-help books aplenty in the culture. Why so little evidence that anybody ever reads them? The culture gives us advice columns in the newspapers, but they seem to provide more in the way of comic relief than genuine help. Which is symptomatic of the culture. The culture helps us deal with our problems by taking our minds off our problems. The thrust of the culture is entertainment and escape. The eyes of the culture are on the far horizon, just beyond which things are surely to be better, no, wonderful and glorious and grand. The culture does not see the ground under our feet. It does not see this moment, right here, now. This is not where we get to work. Oh, please not! Oh, please do NOT let this be what we have to work with. There has to be more to it than this.

Let me take you back to the story of the feeding of the five thousand. As incredible and unlikely as it seems, the point is wonderful and well taken. “What do you have to work with?” asks Jesus. “Three fish and four loaves of bread,” say the disciples. “And a bottle of ketchup, and two lemons, and an over-ripe banana” (or words to that effect). “Make it work,” says Jesus. It is indeed ridiculous. Yet, the beauty of it is that is exactly where we always are. There is no way what we have to work with can begin to solve, or even impact, the problems we face. We need deliverance! We need salvation! We need redemption! We need divine intervention! Where IS that very present help in time of trouble, that’s what we want to know! And, Jesus says, “Start with what you have. Make it work.”

This is where we are. This is what we are up against. This is what we have to work with. What are we going to do? We don’t have a clue. And, we don’t know where to go for one. Where do we go for an answer? Where do we find someone to tell us what to do? Remember the parable of the woman with the vessel of grain. She thought she was doing one thing, and she was doing something else instead. She thought it was about one thing, and it was about another thing. We think we need someone to tell us what to do, when we actually need someone who can hear us out, who can listen us to the heart of our pain, and anxiety, and fear, and anger, and confusion. We think it is about escaping the burden of the problem, but it is about getting all the good out of the problem; letting the problem show us what it has to show us; allowing the problem to give us what it has to offer; following the problem through the unmapped regions where “there be dragons,” which we may also discover to be the Promised Land, flowing with milk and honey.

We cannot do that on our own. It takes the company of the right kind of people to listen us into the good of the problem, and beyond. The culture does not make it easy to find that kind of company.

It is such a going, doing, getting things done culture. No one has time to talk, not from the heart about things that matter. And, if you tried it, who would listen? No one has time to listen in this culture. We patch things up and go on. We dismiss difficulties. We discount troubles. We tell people to shut up and get going. “You think you have problems?”, we say. “You don’t have problems. You have your health. You should be thankful. The people on life support, now, THEY have problems. Until you are on life support, don’t complain.” That’s about as deep as conversations go in this culture. Is there any wonder that we are the most medicated culture in the history of cultures? Our pills help us get by in the absence of the right kind of company.

The church has to form itself into the company of the right kind of company. The church has to listen to itself listening, and abandon its shallow, trite, cure-all approach to telling people they don’t have any real problems and, if they do, they only have to pray about it and have faith. The church has to teach itself to be the church one listening opportunity at a time. May we look and see; may we listen and hear; and may we deal compassionately with what is seen and heard!

Oh, but we feel so inadequate, don’t we? So, we rush to patch up and fix and dismiss the problem and the person with the problem, because we don’t know what to do. There is an old psychotherapy saw, a saying, that goes like this: “When someone with a problem comes through the door into the psychotherapist’s office, the psychotherapist has a problem, namely what to do with the person with the problem.” Those with the problem become our problem, and we get rid of our problem by getting rid of theirs—by telling them they don’t have a problem, and if they do, to pray about it and have faith. If we are going to listen well, we are going to have to bear the pain of not knowing what to do.

We cannot listen with the answer in hand. We cannot hear what is being said if we are looking for an opening to thrust The Solution into the hands of the other person. Not knowing what to do is essential for helpful listening. And, it is an agony. It is death.

Let me flash you back to the New Testament, to the book of Hebrews. The writer advises his readers to “run with perseverance the race that is before you.” The Greek word that is translated “race” is “agone,” from which, you guessed it, we derived the English word agony. The word is used one more time in the New Testament, in 2nd Timothy, where Paul says, “I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith.” “Run with perseverance the agone, the agony, that is before you.” I have fought the good fight. I have finished the agone, the agony.” We must not be surprised if we meet with a little agony along the way.

Not knowing what to do; not knowing what to say; is essential for helpful listening. And it is an agony. It is death. It exposes us, don’t you see, to the same vulnerability, the same helplessness, that the speaker is looking to us to relieve them of. What will we do? What to do, of course, is to listen. To listen so deeply that a shift occurs in the perception of the person with the problem—a shift that either disappears the problem entirely, or reduces the problem to something manageable. But, you have to listen without knowing what to say or what to do. You have to listen believing only in the power of listening alone to bring healing and hope to life in the lives of the people we listen to. That is called living by faith alone!

Ah, but, how do we get there? Practice, practice, practice. And, that takes time. But, we have time. By when do we have to have it down, is the question. If you want to have it down by lunch today, so that you can go on to something else, something more fun, perhaps, I’m here to remind you that that is the culture’s way of keeping the culture unchanged and unchanging. The culture robs the church of its power to transform the culture by having us think we have to be in a hurry to get the job done. We cannot hurry transformation. We cannot complete the task before its time. We carry out the total transformation of the culture incrementally, one moment at a time. Which means we have to exercise incredible patience. Which means we have to believe deeply in the process of which we are apart. Which means we have to do what we can do and wait it out.

The image, remember is yeast in the dough, a seed in the earth. You work in the yeast, you plant the seed, and you wait, trusting in the power of transformation that works in the darkness to change the world. It is as though we are selling electric skillets in the outback of Alaska. We may drive around with the skillets in the trunk of our car practicing our sales pitches, but we have to wait until the utility company runs the power lines before sales are going to take off. There is a lot of waiting in this business. We wait for the transformation. And, while we wait, we practice. And the practice creates the need that produces the urgency that motivates the utility company to run the power lines that transforms the countryside. We cannot just wait for the transformation. We have to practice the sales pitch that produces the transformation.

In our case, we are not selling electric skillets. We are brokering healing and wholeness. And we aren’t practicing sales pitches. We are practicing listening. We listen the transformation into being. And, we listen without knowing what to say; without knowing what to do. We listen believing in the power of “deep listening” alone to effect the shift in perspective that transforms the world. When we are heard deeply, we see things differently. When we see things differently, everything changes. If you want to change the world, listen to the world. Listen to the world in a way the world has never been listened to before. And, be amazed.

Monday, January 23, 2006

01/23/06

I would like to listen in on a conversation between Paul and Jesus. It feels to me as though Paul took Jesus’ idea of the kingdom of God and mutated it, morphed it, into Christianity. For instance, Paul says, “Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God.” Jesus said “The kingdom of God is in your midst, among you.” The kingdom becoming flesh and blood is what Jesus was all about.

The church is the incarnation of the kingdom of God, just as Jesus was the incarnation of the kingdom of God. When Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world,” he didn’t mean it wasn’t, or that it wasn’t to be, a physical, actual, tangible, visible, incarnated reality within the world. He didn’t mean it was “spiritual” or “heavenly,” without worldly implications or impact. He meant it did not operate as a political entity in the world of political entities. He meant it was grounded upon a different reality that that of the world of normal apparent reality, where armies clash with armies to determine whose will will, whose way, will prevail. He meant it was radically non-violent, just, and compassionate.

We are to incarnate, to live out of, live in light of, the alternative reality of God (the “kingdom of God”) in each moment of our living. We cannot do that without paying attention to what we are doing. We have to live with our eyes open, thinking about who we are and what we are about. We have to be conscious, aware, of Identity, Vision, Focus, Purpose, Clarity, and Values (like Justice, Compassion, and Peace, for instance) in each moment of our living. Each moment is the place we bring to life the alternative reality of God within the ordinary world of normal, apparent, reality. And, we do not do that without meaning to, without being deliberate and intentional with what we say and do, and how we say and do it.

We bring God to life in the moment, or not. In each moment the Word of God, the Radical Alternative Reality of God, comes to life in us and through us, or not. To pick up our cross daily and follow Jesus is to bear in our bodies the tension of the two kingdoms, of the two worlds, of the two realities. How do we live in this world as those who belong to that world? How do we incarnate in this world the alternative reality of that world? That is the work of the church in the world.

As the Kingdom Movement of Jesus was “transitioned” into Christianity, through the centuries to here and now, doctrines and belief became more important that living faithfully in light of the alternative reality of the kingdom of God. We could “believe” our way into the kingdom that “flesh and blood” would not inherit. Right belief replaced faithful living—living faithfully aligned with the values and the orientation of the kingdom of God—as the essential element in Christianity. People were told “Prosperity now and heaven when you die,” if they repented of their sins, confessed faith in Jesus, and were baptized into the church. And pagans and heretics were burned at the stake for not believing what should be believed. How did THAT work its way into what Jesus left behind?

The stake, as much as anything else, represents the failure of the church to carry forward Jesus’ understanding of the kingdom of God. The church is always at the place of returning to the source, to the core, to the heart of “who we are and what we are about.” We are here to live faithfully aligned with the values and orientation of the kingdom of God. We are here to incarnate the kingdom of God within the ordinary world of normal, apparent reality. We are here to envision and live out of the alternative reality of the kingdom of God. Not to do it the way the world does it, and expects it to be done, but to do it the way God would do it if God were in our bodies, wearing our clothes.

I see the following as being characteristic of the alternative reality of God:

Being good for nothing—doing what is good whether it does any good or not.

No hierarchy. The Priesthood of All Believers. Equality up and down the line.

No plan for achieving victory—giving to the moment what is needed in the moment and letting the outcome be the outcome.

The power of attentive, compassionate Presence—looking and seeing, listening and hearing, without bias or prejudice, in the best tradition of “judge not.”

Not looking for the advantage—being here to serve not be served—not gathering the boon unto ourselves but sharing it with all others, equally, across the board.

Taking what we have, where we are, and working with it toward the good of all things.

Radical non-violence.

Respecting differences, honoring those who are different.

Allowing, embracing, a world full of varied responses to the experience of the Holy Among Us.
Understanding justice as the equitable distribution of resources, goods and power, or, distributing resources, goods and power equally, or giving everyone a place at the table and a voice in the conversation.

Living an unscripted life. Living extemporaneously in response to the moment. Improvising our response to the moment out of the materials available to us in the moment. Having an idea in mind, but being able to express that idea in unique and creative ways, without being bound to The Book in any way.

The list will be lengthened over time…

Friday, January 20, 2006

01/21/06

Integration, integrity, wholeness, completion, wellness, healing… These things are the work of soul. The work is done within and without, inner and outer, internal and external, the self and the world. The primary tools are seeing and hearing—having eyes that see, ears that hear, and a heart that understands. When things are seen, heard, and understood—when they are greeted with, welcomed with Presence—when they are seen to be, known to be, and allowed to be what they are, as they are, something happens. A shift occurs. Things change. It may be more gradual than we would like, but nothing can remain as it is once it has been seen for what it is. Or, if it does remain as it is, its impact will change. It will not mean the same thing it meant before it was seen, heard, known, understood. And, if a thing’s meaning changes, it doesn’t matter if it changes or not.

Integration, integrity, wholeness, completion, wellness, healing… These things come about when we attend the world within and without; when we listen to what is being said, and to what is also being said; when we see what is being done, and what is also being done; when we witness what is happening, and what is also happening. Nothing is forced. Everything is received, welcomed, honored. Everything is allowed its rightful place at the table. The lion lays down with the lamb, and all are safe in the compassionate mindfulness of attending presence.

There is movement when something is seen for what it is. This might be called “the shift of recognition.” The phrase, “Oh, NOW I see,” is always accompanied by a physical shift in the person seeing. Her, or his, facial expression changes. Her, or his, posture becomes more erect. There is a different tonal quality to her, to his, voice. Seeing has a physical component, a physical impact. We see and we shift. We see and things change.

Once we see, we cannot live as though we do not see. We can deny what is “there” only so long as we do not see what is “there.” Once seen, we have to act in the service of the vision. We have to live out of the truth we know to be true. We can only kid ourselves so much. When our eyes are opened, the pretense is over, and we live in light of “that which is.”

It is not surprising, given the power of seeing, and hearing, and understanding, that so much effort goes into “spinning” perceptions and describing how things are in terms of how we want them to be, or how we want them to be perceived. “I’m not getting older; I’m getting better.” “I’m not grotesquely obese; I’m just a tad overweight.” Of course, negative spins are also popular with some. “I’m old and over the hill, and can’t do anything but sit here and wait for the undertaker.” And, anorexic young people cannot get out of their minds how fat they are. Right seeing changes everything. Moves everything toward the center; toward itself; toward what it is, and toward what it needs to be.

If we saw everything there is to see regarding the implications and outcomes and results of our behavior and attitudes, we would behave, and think, differently. We live as we do because we have narrow little limited perceptions of reality. It pays us to not know what we are doing. We get by with a lot more that way. We build the factories that pollute the air that warms the earth by telling ourselves there is no correlation between our factory and the disappearance of glaciers and the melting the ice caps. If we had known then what we know now, our now would be vastly different.

It hurts to see. We cannot see without things changing. And, we like things as they are. We hate turbulence and chaos and transformation. We hate not having life like we like it, not having what we want, not having things our way. Seeing changes everything. Not just the things we want changed. Once we see, we have to serve the vision, or cut ourselves off from our soul. That’s the story of Eden and Gethsemane. Not Seeing has its outcome, and Seeing has its outcome. Pick your poison.

Integration, integrity, wholeness, completion, wellness, healing… These things come with a price. We can want what we have no business having, which can include wanting to stay within the safety of the “tried and true,” and never venturing beyond how things are “supposed to be,” to push against the limits and stroll through the unmapped regions where “there be dragons.” How does what we want contribute to disintegration, fragmentation, separation, and division? In order to be married, goes the saying, we have to give up our idea of marriage. In order to be healed, and whole, and integrated, and “at-one,” “in synch,” with ourselves, we have to give up our idea of what it means to “have it made.” We may find that integration means being okay, at home, with parts of ourselves, for instance, that we never thought we could tolerate and always wanted to “disappear.” Once we see, things change, but the change may not be what we had in mind.

It takes courage, resolve, willfulness, intention, deliberation, commitment and determination to live toward integration, integrity, wholeness, completion, wellness and healing. There are strong forces pulling us apart, interfering with our ability to see, and hear, and understand. The seeing, hearing, and understanding have to take those forces into account and attend them, become aware of them, bring them into focus, and see them, hear them, understand them for what they are. Only then can things shift and move forward.