Pure, Unbounded Love Thou Art

this morning as i prepared to write, i thought of the hymn, "love divine, all loves excelling," by charles wesley.  one particular line came to mind: "jesus, thou are all compassion."  what must that mean, to be "all compassion?"  the idea of divine love has occupied me for the past several weeks, and even more so now that i'm reading richard rohr's "the universal christ."  this concept that there is a spirit of love that holds everything together, that is a part of everything that exists, is at the core of my beliefs.  rohr's understanding, and my own, is that this universal force is beyond the bounds of any one religion.  we christians understand it as the logos, the "word," that was from the beginning, but this is not a solely christian phenomenon.  many religious thinkers captured an understanding of the "all compassionate" love that keeps it all from flying apart.  this is a way of thinking that transcends religion.  it requires no faith in the supernatural.  one has only to look in one's own heart to find what rohr calls the "universal christ."  every time we see another being suffering and feel that being's hurt, the eternal logos is awakened in us.

in the process of making jesus a god, we have diminished his teachings.  we have tried to cram god into a box, to place limits on the divine, to replace the old rules of judaism with new rules of our own.  we insist on magical rituals, we focus on sin and define what it is and how to find ways to repent of it, every form of christianity insisting that its way is the only right way.  many christians are convinced that all who believe differently from us are doomed to eternal fire, that only those who are a part of our communion are "saved."

jesus taught a religion of the heart.  over and over, he went out of his way to make others whole.  he ate with "sinners," with the "unclean."  he called disciples from all walks of life, even outcasts like matthew.  he visited with a samaritan woman in violation of jewish teaching.  he made a samaritan, an infidel, the hero of one of his most famous parables.  he refused to join in the condemnation of a woman caught in adultery and sent her away with kind words.  he told his followers to look within themselves, to spend time making themselves whole rather than looking for ways to condemn others.

jesus' brief ministry was one of healing, not just physical maladies, but illnesses of the heart and mind.  he told nicodemus that  being born again was the only way to enter the kingdom of God, so that one who finds that kingdom has a complete change of heart, a new focus on life.  the only true religion is one that helps us to become whole, to put aside our selfishness, our clinging and craving, and to be filled with love and compassion.

may we be true followers of jesus, even if we are not christians, in the sense that we are born again, awakened to the possibilities of a life filled with love.  may the all-compassionate force of divine love manifest itself in our hearts and lives.  may we let go of our clinging and craving, our desires to hold onto and acquire impermanent things, and may we hold onto the only thing that is eternal, that was in the beginning and will be forever: love.  shalom.

It Is in Pardoning That We Are Pardoned

forgiveness is an important part of being fully human.  we experience so many hurts in our lives, some petty, some major, and it is all too easy to carry around the baggage of those injuries with us.  for some of us, it is the whole reason for living:  getting even is our goal in life.  the heavy weight of these grudges--of this perpetual anger--damages us physically, mentally, and emotionally.  we rehearse old wounds over and over, constantly reminding ourselves of how another has harmed us and plotting what we can do to hurt them back.

we've all known children and parents who have ceased having anything to do with one another, often over trivial slights and disagreements.  we all have friends who no longer speak to another sibling who has hurt them in some way.  friendships end when one friend listens to a rumor about another, and, rather than talking to that friend, accepts the rumor and cuts off their relationship.  we let our wounds fester and reopen them again and again when we could end our suffering with a few words or simply by saying or thinking, "i forgive you."

this parent, this child, this brother, this sister, this friend, this acquaintance who has harmed us is so much like us.  they seek happiness, just as we do.  they hunger, they tire, they struggle, they worry just like us.  there must have been some redeeming qualities in that person with whom we had a lengthy relationship before we parted company for some reason.  why is it so difficult to recall those good features in that person who injured us?  my heart aches for those who find it so hard to forgive and let go of their anger and hurt.  life is difficult enough at best without the heavy load of anger, bitterness, hurt, and revenge.  yet we see so much of it in the world.  wars are fought, lives are ruined, businesses fail, all because of our inability to forgive.

may our hearts open to forgiveness.  may we see the loveliness in everyone, even those who have treated us badly.  may we allow ourselves to be whole, free from anger and the desire for revenge.  may we speak rather than harboring and nourishing our hurts.  shalom.

No, Never Alone

during the past couple of weeks, i've felt a great loneliness.  our relationship with my wife's sister and her husband that we moved to be near hasn't worked out as we had hoped.  though we occasionally do things together, the closeness to them we once felt is no longer there, and i miss having their companionship.  i have not been able to develop close relationships within a church, and, though we attend regularly, it often seems an empty exercise.  sure, the people we have met in the church are friendly, and it is their kindness that keeps me attending, but the service itself offers me little in the way of growth.

my wife, who is more outgoing than i am, has developed friendships with people in several bridge groups.  her participation in those have given her an outlet which i don't have.  i enjoy being at home and taking care of the mundane tasks necessary to keep things running, but that is not enough.  i long for the close contact with people that i enjoyed in our former home where i was often called on in leadership roles in church, sang in our church choir and in our active community chorus, frequently filled in as a substitute organist in several churches, and did volunteer work for our local symphony.

as i've meditated the past several mornings, my focus has been on the isolation i feel and how to break free of it.  i love going places and doing things with my wife, but i need more.  i've decided to give myself two mornings each week to do what i want to do--to go to a nearby church that will allow me to practice on their organ, to read, to do some organizing that, though not necessary, would help me find things i want more easily, and simply have some time just for me.  i've decided, too, to offer my services to the church that allows me to practice on their instrument to play some or all of their services on a more regular basis.  they have a pianist who plays every sunday as an unpaid volunteer but she does not play the organ, so, except when they call on me to fill in for her on the rare occasions when she is gone, their organ sits silent.  i hope they will allow me to help because i miss having the chance to play.

i don't know if taking these steps will be enough, but i think they will move me in the right direction.  without human contact other than that of my wife, whom i adore, i feel empty and turned too much inward.  i need to get out and become involved in the life of this community.  perhaps volunteering at this church will lead to other opportunities to serve.  i have to make a change because keeping to myself so much of the time and staying home is affecting both my physical and mental health.  i am becoming less patient and find myself becoming irritated with my wife when the fault lies within me and not in her.  for that reason, if for no other, finding my place in this new town is essential.

may each of us search for ways to move outside ourselves.  may we be happy with ourselves and find how to serve others, thereby serving ourselves.  may we learn to wait patiently for the answers to come and act on them once they do.  may we have compassion and love for ourselves, as well as for others.  shalom.

Not for Those Who Wait Too Late

my wife and i were talking this past week about our recollections of our childhood christmases and contrasting the two.  this brought about a conversation about her  complex relationship with her father and how she had come to forgive him for the physical and emotional harm he had done to her and her sisters.  later in the week, i thought about my own father and the difficulties in our relationship.  my father never physically harmed me.  i never feared him or dreaded to see him come home.  yet, we were never close.  i always felt as if i were a disappointment to him.  i didn't like sports.  i didn't want to hunt or learn to use a gun.  i was fiercely independent and liked to keep to myself.

in many ways my father and i were very alike.   when i look a pictures of myself now that i am what many would consider to be "elderly," i am often shocked that i am almost my dad's twin, except for our hair color.  like me, he was a very private person.  he didn't like to be in a crowd.  he was a quiet person who spoke little and enjoyed solitary pursuits--working in the yard, wandering through the woods alone.  when he hunted, he hunted squirrels which couldn't be done in large groups.  unlike many of the men in our area, he didn't like to go to the deer camp and spend days in the company of other men.  he loved to fish, which, like squirrel hunting, required quiet and solitude.  i think he chose to fish and hunt squirrels because they were by definition individual pursuits rather than endeavors that lent themselves to large groups.  i chose other hobbies, but ones that were solitary--reading, stamp collecting, playing the piano.  i think i avoided sports because they required working with a group.  the one sport i did take to was tennis, which is not a team sport.

i suppose because of our natures we were never close.  like him, i was determined not to be dependent on my own father.  in contrast to his brother who was less than two years older than him, my dad refused his father's help even when he could have used it.  his brother had gone into business with his father and lived the early part of his adult life a block from his father's home with only a small field separating their two houses.  as a teenager, he had often accompanied his father on business trips and been his confidant, a role my father rejected.  when his father, who was well off, wanted to buy a house for my dad and my mother after dad returned from europe at the end of the second world war, my father refused, insisting on making his own way, though in the end he went to work for his father, not as a partner but as an employee.  i think he wanted to be able to separate himself and his young family from his father when he pleased and not to be tied to him in a business partnership.

in our insistence on our own independence and the freedom to engage in our solitary pursuits, i think my father and i missed out on a lot.  i know that he loved me, but it was always from a distance.  i don't ever remember a hug from my dad and few kind words.  when he was on his death bed, he told me that i had been a good son, the biggest compliment he ever paid me.  i remember others--my mother, friends of my family, other relatives--telling me how proud my father was of me.  i suppose this was because they sensed that my need to know my father cared for me when it was impossible for him to express his feelings to me.

in his last few years, my father shared some stories of his life with us, telling us how his own father was absent much of the time when he was growing up.  my grandfather had a large manufacturing business to run in a town some distance from their home, forcing him to spend most of every week at his plant while my dad and his two siblings were left at home with their mother.  my grandmother had a large extended family in and near the town where they lived and wanted her children to grow up surrounded by these many relatives.  my grandfather didn't seem to want them to move to be in the town where his plant was either, so they spent six days a week living in separate places.  his own distant father may account for my father's inability to express his love to his own children.  even as a child, i remember my paternal grandfather being a loner, spending his days in his private suite of bedroom, bath, and sunroom, and only coming into my grandmother's part of the house for meals.  they each had their own bedroom, separated by a jack-and-jill bathroom, and i always thought it odd that they didn't share much, not even a bed.

i regret that my dad and i were never able to speak openly with one another about our feelings.  even when my mother died, dad pushed me, my brother, and my sister away, refusing to speak about how to deal with her passing.  we were left in an emotional limbo to deal with our grief separately from him.  in the years following, he distanced himself from us, only telling us of his remarriage after the fact.  we were not opposed to their marriage and would have loved to have shared the ceremony with them and to have had a family celebration, but we were left out, as were her own children.  i have tried to behave differently with my own children, demonstrating my affection for them verbally and in physical ways.  i've let them see how much i care for their mother and have tried to include them in every decision we've made.  i hope they know how much i care for them, how much they mean to me, how important their happiness is to  me.  when they've had big life decisions to make, they've shared them with us.  i am so grateful that we have been able to be more open in our relationships than was the case in my relationship with my dad, and i hope we've broken a pattern that seemed to have started in my father's family many years ago.

may we be able to speak openly with one another of our love.  may we be honest about our feelings and willing to let others know how much we care for and about them.  may we not end our lives regretting that we never shared ourselves with those who matter most to us.  shalom.