What Is Hidden Is Never Lost

Hanukkah has come and almost gone this year.  Locally, I have heard and read very little in our media about this Jewish holiday.  In past years there has been a picture of a menorah on the first day of the holiday as a banner in our local newspaper, and the T.V.  news would feature a segment each night of a large public menorah being lit during the eight days of remembrance.  But here we are on the second to the last day and I see nothing. 

Perhaps this holiday seems absent from me because I’m Christian.  I light our Advent candles, one for the four weeks leading up to Christmas, (a time of waiting and remembering), and then the Christ candle on the 25^th of December for the birth of Jesus. 

If I were Jewish I would light a menorah-- one candle each night for 8 days.  When the Jewish people regained their temple from the Syrian army, all the oil for the lamps had been destroyed except for enough for one day.  But that lamp burned for 8 days, which gave them time to make more oil.  This was a sign from God and it is remembered annually during Hanukkah, which means “to dedicate” ( "חנך").

These two traditions blend with a similar kind of ritual of lighting candles, waiting, and remembering.  

So with two days left of Hanukkah, I decided to find the old dreidel (spinning top) is kept in the front room drawer.  (I don’t know where it came from and rarely take it out.) It’s a Hanukkah game and it’s played like this:

The four sides of the top bear four Hebrew letters: nun, gimmel, hey, and shin. Players begin by putting into a central pot or “kitty” a certain number of coins, chocolate money known as gelt, nuts, buttons or other small objects. Each player in turn spins the dreidel and proceeds as follows:

• nun – take nothing;
• gimmel – take everything;
• hey – take half;
• shin – put one in.

The letters on the dreidel are reinterpreted to stand for the first letter of each word in the Hebrew statement “Neis gadol hayah sham,” which means “A great miracle happened there”.

In my online research I found an excellent article by Rabbi Eliyahu Safran where he writes, “Dreidels are my talisman, my touchstone. They reassure me in the most innocent and delightful way that our miracles will continue.”  

What is hidden is never lost.  Remember the candles and remember the light from them.

Here is Rabbi Safran’s story:

http://www.jewishpress.com/indepth/opinions/what-is-hidden-is-never-lost-rapa-dreidels-portugal-and-the-marranos/2016/12/24/ 

Thankfulness in Crisis

I recently received a meditation from Rabbi Brian (Religion Outside-the-Box) called “What I’ve Learned in a Week.”  He was referring to election week and he offers five thoughts:

            1 – Disappointment hits hard.           

            2 – The best way to console someone who is bereft is to sit with them (or yourself) in silence.

            3 – You don't get to choose the crisis that will transform your life.

            4 – Continue to live your morals, your kindness, your faith and your hope. 

            5 – Be there for others.

It was the 3^rd statement that I was most drawn to: 

                       

I don’t get to choose the crisis that will transform my life.

I do have to live through the crisis. I have to get up each morning and make the best of things that I have been given.  Although I may be disappointed and heartbroken, I have to continue living my morals, my kindness, my faith and my hope.  I have to be there for others who may be feeling the same way.  And one more thing, I have to be understanding of those who do not feel the crisis or do not believe they are affected by it.  It is in rising to this last task that the crisis will be given the opportunity to transform my life.  And for that, I will be thankful.  

What I Said: What He Said --Thinking About Kneeling

 

 There’s been a lot of controversy over some people kneeling during our national anthem. We all have opinions about it. I think for the most part, we all love God and Country. When the youth soccer team from World of Inquiry School here in Rochester, NY knelt during the national anthem before their game, I saw it as a statement of solidarity and remembrance, I believe, for the many young black youth who have died during police encounters. After that act of civil disobedience I wrote this letter to the editor:

I do not agree with people who say that kneeling during our national anthem is an act of disrespect. As someone who has worked in the religious community for over 30 years, I have always found kneeling to be an act of humility and utmost respect. Perhaps if more of us knelt than complained about those making a peaceful statement, there might be more understanding of what it means to be marginalized and victimized in a country where the nation’s flag represents “one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

Of course, those people who have a similar opinion to me, agreed with my words. Also, after hearing Evan Dawson on NPR interviewing the local soccer team, I understood that their kneeling meant they “were not going to stand for it” anymore; "  "It” meaning violence, discrimination and abuse. 

 Due to the efficiency of our digital technology, the very next day the newspaper posted another letter to the editor with a slightly different opinion that is a rebuttal to my letter. This is that letter:

A writer on Oct. 6, referencing her religious background, defended kneeling during the national anthem as an act of “utmost respect.” I understand that kneeling during some religious rites is the expected protocol, but it is not the established anthem protocol. I wonder what her reaction would be if most worshipers in her church knelt at the appropriate time, and others chose to stand with their hands over their hearts. As guidance, perhaps she would accept the recommendation of a famous religious figure: “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s and unto God the things that are God’s. (Matthew 22.21)

I found the letter amusing, as most people in my church do stand to pray. And I respect his point of view, although he did not address the issue of violence, discrimination and abuse. Perhaps if we remove all the talk about God and religious beliefs, we can take an objective, (or honest) look at what it means to kneel before something. It’s not always an act of humility and respect. Sometimes people are forced to kneel, like before kings and queens or figures of authorities that dictate over other people’s lives. People kneel before executions in some parts of the world. And yes, we kneel when we are in awe of something greater than ourselves, whether it is a good thing or a fearful thing. But obviously, we are used to seeing people stand, not kneel, during moments of civil protests, which seems to be drawing extensive attention, as it should.

During the NPR radio interview there were callers who commented that these young people did not have the experience in their lives to make a judgment statement by this act of disobedience. Most of these callers were veterans, and/or people my age (maybe your age, too) that have lived through wars and famine and many other kinds of terrible life experiences. To that statement one young man on the soccer team stated his experiences of being black in a white world.

In some ways, our young African Americans are living the lives of their ancestors in these contemporary times, yet in more subversive and insidious ways. We can say life has gotten better for people of color, and yet, the mere act of high school students kneeling to make a statement, shows that things are no better for black lives than when the generation of the 60’s protested by marching in Birmingham or laying down in the streets to call attention to discrimination.

I am very proud of these young students who chose a non-violent way to protest. And I too, can find plenty of quotes in scripture that defend my position in this matter. Many of you know them: the Beatitudes, the Ten Commandments, Isaiah, Micah—we all have our favorite scripture. But what comes to my mind is a quote from Mahatma Gandhi, revered leader in the Indian revolution to independence, and one who inspired the non-violent movement for civil rights. His most famous quote is, “We must be the change we want to see in the world.” 

Here's another quote by Gandhi that is lesser known that speaks to these young men and their act of kneeling in protest: There is a higher court than courts of justice and that is the court of conscience. It supersedes all other courts.

A Lesson in Blowing Away

                                       

Here’s what I’m working on:  Learning to accept people where they are and not where I want them to be, and then learning to accept who they are and not who I want them to be.  Can you grasp that thought? 

I generally pride myself at being a good listener, and bending with the winds of communication.  But every now and then, I lose.  It’s a bit heartbreaking actually.  It’s like not being able to hold onto someone’s hand during a hurricane and they get blown away.  Or maybe I’m the one who’s blown away… lost in a windstorm of translation.

“I thought you said…”

“No, I didn’t say that.”

“Why don’t you talk to me?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Give me a chance.”

“There is no time left.”

“We’ve been blown away. . .”


 (Blown Away - M. Gibson oil on canvas, 2011)

Self Compassion

I recently went to visit a friend in the hospital who was diagnosed with a heart ailment.  She wore a monitor around her neck and as we talked I saw the heart rate move up into the 80’s and when she was quiet it lowered into the 70’s.  I don’t know if all hearts beat like this.  Not many of us wear monitors throughout the day but I bet if we did our heart rate would rise with our stress and lower in our silence.

I asked her if she had a mantra to recite when she was feeling worried or frightened.  It often helps our bodies to relax when we reassure ourselves that it will be okay, that at this moment we can move into a personal way of healing.  This kind of healing doesn’t always mean complete restoration, but momentary peace and quiet.  This in itself is healing for it is where the comfort of God lies, or whatever Higher Power in which you put your faith.

I found a meditation called “Be Kind to Yourself” in the November 2015 issue of Shambhala Sun, written by Kristin Neff, associate professor of educational psychology at the University of Texas at Austin. She also does research in the field of self-compassion and has written a book about her work.  The meditation is a three-step contemplation that offers a way to bring compassion within yourself through affirmation.  Here is the process:

1. Put your hand(s) on your heart, pause, and feel the warmth.

2. Breathe deeply for a few seconds then relax your breathing.

3. Speak these words out loud or silently to yourself in a warm and caring way:

               This is a moment of suffering

               Suffering is a part of life.

               May I be kind to myself in this moment.

               May I give myself the compassion I need.

When doing meditation or mantras it is important to know that you can change any of the words to fit your personal needs.  So depending on how you feel, you might change the first sentence to say, “This is a moment of pain, or a moment of sadness, a moment of grief or a moment of anger.”  You are recognizing that there is a feeling that is very much centered in your body and you are holding it, being at one with it. (You may place your hand(s) on any part of you that feels pain or discomfort.)

  

The second sentence addresses the fact that the emotion or feeling you are having is legitimate and is “a part of life.”  You are not the only one who experiences these feelings, emotions, pains. Neff says that this “is a part of the shared human experience.”

The last two sentences enable you to be kind to yourself, to take care of that part of you that hurts, to give yourself the love and attention you need when others are perhaps being unkind or unforgiving, or if in the case of hospitalization, others are busy doing “to you”—what you need is a personal hug and reassurance.  Certainly many turn to God or a Higher Power during these times, and if we think about the Oneness of all things, then perhaps our taking care of ourselves in this way is God within.

I once shared a similar mantra with a directee and asked how it worked for her and she said it was too long to remember.  I understand this as I often want something short and quick that I can use in the moment of driving, or being confronted with an adversarial situation; something simple enough to repeat over a few times until my heart rate and tension stabilizes.  So I offer this:

I give myself the compassion I need in this moment – all is well

Buddha Speak

Have you ever noticed out of the blue suddenly feeling hostile?  It was a gorgeous day, nothing had gone wrong and no one had challenged me over anything.  But I was feeling hostile.  So I asked myself, “Why are you feeling this way?”  I thought maybe I had stuffed away a bad experience from the week.  Or maybe some memory from my past had crept through the brain synapses to trigger a bad memory.  We all have bad memories hanging out in our biological cells.  Nope, couldn’t bring anything to mind.

So then I thought to myself, maybe someone is thinking hostile thoughts about me.  My naïve self wanted to reject that thought as being highly unlikely since I’m such a nice person.  My shadow self said “Yes!  That’s it!  Bad juju is coming down the pike and headed right toward us!”  Who could it be?

I am a firm believer in the power of thought.  I actually liken it to prayer.  I think this mind energy comes from the part of the brain that most of us don’t much use; you know… the other 97%.  It’s a powerful tool and I believe that the craziness in the world is due to the fact that most humans don’t cultivate this part of the brain in positive and compassionate ways but rather let it grow dark and mean and hostile.  But I digress.

So if someone somewhere in the world is thinking hostile thoughts about me, what can I do?  Simple.  I can say the 2500 year old prayer that Buddha taught called Loving Kindness.  Regardless of a face or a body or even a memory of hostility, I say 5 times over:

May you be filled with loving kindness;

May you be filled with peace;

May you be well;

May you be happy.

 I send this prayer, this mantra, into the universe and let it permeate all that is hostile and mean.  And then I say it again 5 times over to myself:

May I be filled with loving kindness;

May I be filled with peace;

May I be well;

May I be happy.

I am aware that the hostility in me is gone.  It is now time for me to reward myself with a bowl of vanilla ice cream.  Life is good.

A Moment

      I walked into my bedroom after taking a shower this morning. I was clean, in fresh clothes, ready for the day.  I walked pasted the front window and noticed a man standing at the side of my driveway, leaning on the trunk of the Sycamore tree.  He seemed distressed.  He was wearing jeans, a long sleeve shirt over a dark green tee shirt and a black bandana around his head.  He leaned his tall body forward and vomited.  I watched a little longer wondering if I should call an emergency vehicle for him.  He heaved a few more times and then took a tissue from his pocket and wiped his mouth, the inside of each nostril, wiped his eyes. 

As I watched him I wished I had some magical power to make him feel better.  I thought perhaps he was dealing with cancer and the effects of chemotherapy. 

I spoke to God, “Can you send him some relief?”

     The image of this man—this stranger, leaning against the tree, vomiting in the driveway, took away my feeling of comfort for just a moment.  My compassion for him pulled me from my place in the world into his place in the world.  This is what so many people I have known and will come to know have to struggle with.    

     He put the tissue back into his pocket, straightened up, and walked away leaving only the memory of his body against the tree and a stream of vomit trickling down the driveway into the street.  I want to see him healed, strong, living the life he thought he’d have when he was twenty. 

     All we have is this moment, and then the next moment and maybe the one after that moment.  We don’t know when the moments will run out.  I send peace and compassionate thoughts to this man who stepped into my moment.

June 9, 2016

Walking a Labyrinth

I can’t remember my very first experience walking a labyrinth.  I do know I have walked many in my life, and have always been drawn to this ancient spiritual mystery.  My favorite labyrinths have been outdoors:  ones in the forest, like the one I’ve walked the most in the Adirondacks at the Priory Retreat House (above), and (below) the labyrinth at the edge of Long Island Sound at a convent called Mercy by the Sea. 

I’ve walked indoor labyrinths:  one at the 213th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church USA in Louisville, Kentucky, and at least once a year during Advent or Lent, I’ve walked the labyrinth at Asbury United Methodist Church in Rochester, NY.  (below)

There are some who have journeyed to far-off places to walk ancient labyrinths, like the most familiar Chartres Cathedral Labyrinth in France.  I’m not sure I will ever get to walk a labyrinth quite elaborate and ancient as that, but the origin of even the simple ones we build in our personal sacred spaces date back 4000 years.  So whether we are in France or in Rochester, NY, walking the labyrinth will bring us to the center of a universal holy place that has been seeded in us all.

Why do people walk the labyrinth?  First, one must understand a labyrinth is not meant to confuse or trick the person who is walking it, (that’s a maze). But rather it is a way that leads to the center.   People will walk to meditate, to relax, to pray, to unburden oneself from worry, or to discern over making a decision on a personal issue.

labyrinth petraglyph - India

I frequently use the labyrinth as a metaphor to life.   It is like walking our life on a path that we know will soon lead to the center.  We will make turns that seem to be going back to where we started, but if we continue walking, we will see we are actually moving forward.  We will come across others walking the labyrinth.  Sometimes we will walk along side people and sometimes they will be either in front or behind us.  We may have to go around them or they may have to go around us.  Sometimes we will part ways and travel in different directions.  We will always come to the center.  There we can rest, think, pray, or be still.  If we want we can sing or dance in the center!  

And always, when we are ready, we can continue the journey until we complete the walk.

" ... you will find God where you are –
if you search with all your heart 
and soul.”
(Deuteronomy 4:29)

A Tribute to Architect, James Johnson

I read an article in the City Newspaper by editor, Mary Anna Towler, about architect James Johnson, who recently passed away.  I have a story about him that I’d like to share.

Sometime in the late 1970’s our family took a cross-country trip from New York to California.  We were driving down from the north rim of the Grand Canyon when we pulled over in a rest stop to take a look around at the amazing vista.  An Air Stream trailer pulled in besides our truck camper with a New York State license. We had not encountered any New Yorkers in several days of our journey and we’re happy to exchange greetings.  A young man, his wife, and children got out and in our conversation said they were from Pittsford. 

“Hey!  We’re from Rochester!”  I exclaimed. 

I asked, “So what do you do in Rochester?” 

He answered he was an architect, at which I asked, “Is there a building I would recognize?” 

He smirked, “You don’t want to know!”

I looked at him and smirked back, “Did you design the Liberty Pole?”

 

He grinned, “Yeah.”

I was elated to meet the guy who created the once infamous Liberty Pole. Like many creative artists, his work was ahead of the popular imagination at that time. He created beautiful sanctuaries and structures that still stand as creative and stunning buildings in Rochester.  

I would never have imagined in my lifetime bumping into James Johnson.  But there we were, on the edge of the Grand Canyon looking out at the vastness of the scene before us, and together fondly smirking about the Liberty Pole.

Photo:  The Big Picture - RIT