That This Heart of Mine Embraces

 our daughter is visiting us this week, so i have not had time to write a new post.  i hope to be back writing next week.  may all have a great week.  shalom.

Let us Find the Promised Rest

 this morning as i prepared to write this blog post, i was thinking of how our minds work.  what surprises me is our ability to change our thought processes.  we can either allow our conscious minds to control us or we can choose to control them.  our thoughts are not who we are, they are the products of what we are becoming.  not long ago, i lived my life reactively.  if others spoke to me in an unkind or thoughtless way, i either lashed out at them or stewed over how to get back at them.  i spent much of my time thinking of petty annoyances and slights, as i harbored thoughts of how much i disliked this or that other person.  i dwelt on my past, filled with resentments towards those who had held me back as i grew up.  i was quick to become angry and felt a sense of superiority regarding others.

as i've gotten older, i've come to realize that no one is out to cause me suffering and grief.  when others speak to me in ways that are hurtful and spiteful, they are not really being hateful to me.  instead, their words or actions are coming from a place of deep hurt, and i happen to be a convenient target to express the suffering they feel.  if i let go of the initial desire to return their mean words, i can feel a deep compassion for them and wish them peace and relief from their pain.  my own impulse to hurt others doesn't come from a natural enmity towards them but rather from my own suffering.  when we stop the pettiness of our thoughts and turn from the superficial propensity to behave with unkindness and turn to our deepest desires to be whole and to help others to find wholeness, we see that we are all alike.  often we don't stop before we act or speak in order to discern why others treat us as they do.  when we train our minds to be calm and turn to our deep well of goodness and compassion, we can stop the compulsion to treat those who injure us with an equal measure of hurt.

may we calm our minds and in that stillness find compassion towards those who seem to feel little compassion for us.  may we look at a situation from many perspectives, not just from our first reaction of hurt or anger.  may we be grateful to those who wound us for allowing us an opportunity to practice lovingkindness.  may we find peace that allows us to show love when our first inclination is to return hate for hate and injury for injury.  shalom.

Service Be Our True Vocation

 all my life i have attended church services every sunday.  the only times i would miss is when i was ill or when i was traveling.  the pandemic has changed that.  i have only attended worship at the church of which i am a member once during this time, and that was because i was needed to accompany the service in the absence of the regular organist.  twice a month, i play for services at another church that is without an organist.  when i am not needed to play for a service, i have been absent from worship.  i have felt safe in attending services as the organist, since i am able to self-isolate behind the music rack of the organ console.  i still don't feel secure about sitting in the congregation during a service, since both churches where i play have abandoned social distancing protocols, and most people no longer wear masks.  i'm not ready to return to normal in an enclosed space where large numbers of people are present.

what has surprised me during my absence from every-sunday attendance at worship is that i don't miss it that much.  certainly, i miss seeing friends that i only see at that time but otherwise not being there every sunday has not left a void in my life.  i feel no guilt in missing worship.  my wife has expressed the same sentiments.  we have a close relative who is greatly disturbed that we have not been attending church.  his wife has not attended either and has no plans to resume going to church in the near future.  this relative reminds us of our failure to participate in worship every time we see him and lets us know that others have been asking about us and when we plan to come back to church.  he is of the opinion that God will take note of his presence and look favorably on him while viewing us with disapproval.  

my wife and i don't plan to go back to worship each sunday until the fall, and we're not certain we'll attend the church to which we belong.  we have a new minister who has changed the pattern of our services quite radically.  we're afraid that those changes will make us ill at ease, so we may worship at other churches on some sundays, returning to our own church only once or twice a month.  we've made friends in a couple of other congregations, and we feel more at home in their worship services than we do in those of our own congregation now.  whatever we do, the pandemic has changed our way of thinking about participation in church permanently.  were it not for the opportunity to see others that we have come to count as friends and to hear and participate in the music of the church, we might abandon attendance on sunday mornings altogether.

as children we were compelled to go to church.  as adults, we went out of habit or because i was employed as a church musician.  now that the pandemic has forced us to stay home on sunday mornings, we have re-examined our reasons for church attendance and have found that we will go back only to rekindle friendships and be a part of the camaraderie we find with those friends.

may we be honest with ourselves about our faith and the obligations we feel towards it.  may our worship be about loving others rather than out of a sense of duty, force of habit, or fear of a deity's wrath.  may we find what normal is for us now as we emerge from the isolation caused by the pandemic.  shalom.

We Blossom and Flourish

 in buddhism there is a teaching called "impermanence."  nothing lasts.  change is constant.  from one nanosecond to the next, everything is different.  the end of something is inherent in its beginning.  i remember once, my mother-in-law and i looked at the huge oak tree in our back yard in our former home. it had begun to leaf out in the spring.  she said, "just look at that tree.  soon this yard will be filled with dead leaves that will have to be raked up."  at the time, i thought that this was a terribly pessimistic point-of-view.  instead of glorying in the beauty of spring, my mother-in-law was thinking about fall and all the work ahead.  now i see the wisdom in her statement.  the end of the beautiful green leaves of the tree was inherent in their beginning, just as the end of the giant oak was inherent in the tiny acorn that was at its beginning.

there is a similar teaching in christianity.  the writer of proverbs tells us that "to every thing there is a season."  the entire first chapter of ecclesiastes is devoted to impermanence, as the writer speaks of the vanity of life, literally the mist that is life.  to be born is to start our progress towards death.  we don't know if death is the ultimate end.  orthodox christians believe that it is the beginning of a new sort of life in another place called "heaven," if we've believed the right things during earthly life.  many others believe that death leads to a new life in another body as we progress in the direction of ultimate awakening or enlightenment.  perhaps both ideas are wrong, and death is the cessation of each human life, as our bodies nourish new life through their decay.

whatever the ultimate outcome of our lives, death will come to each of us.  to ignore that fact is to pretend that we can stop the force of change, but change is inexorable.  we must recognize the truth of impermanence.  the only thing that is constant is change.  may we prepare for what is inevitable.  may we recognize the truth of impermanence.  may we relish the moment without clinging to it, for it can never come again.  may we be filled with peace as we seek to fill our lives with lovingkindness and compassion.  shalom.

I've Seen the Lightning Flashing

 we've all encountered plenty of selfish people in our lives.  we know the sort who can only complain about their own problems, whose entire conversation is filled with "woe-is-me" talk.  there are others we encounter who can speak only of their own accomplishments and possessions.  they may brag about their children, but it is obvious that they consider their children to me nothing more than an extension of themselves.  we avoid such people and have little sympathy for them.  yet when we stop and consider, we realize that their complaining or their bragging is a cover for profound voids in their lives.  inside they are hurting.  they either feel that life has been unfair to them and has cursed them with trials no one else has to endure or that they must "toot their own horn," so to speak, to make others realize that they have value and are just as good, probably better, than everyone else.  because they see themselves as having little worth, they must constantly seek to elevate themselves above the others around them.  the complainers and the braggers need our compassion, not our ridicule and avoidance.  

fortunately, most people are not like this.  most of us see others in the light of our own experiences and are aware that we share so much.  we all want the best for ourselves and our children.  we want to live comfortable lives, blessed with the essentials of day-to-day life.  we want to be free of confrontation and violence.  we want the simple pleasures that make life worth living.  we want to be loved, valued, respected.  there are many who have difficulty achieving these desires.  they are forced to live surrounded by conflict or to do without food, shelter, and warmth.  others are estranged from those they love through no fault of their own.  yet, we are often surprised that those who are unable to possess the ingredients for happiness that most of us take for granted are filled with joy, even in the midst of their struggles.

perhaps it is that they are joyful, not in spite of, but because of life's difficulties.  they have developed a mental fortitude that enables them transform their difficulties into opportunities.  we've all heard the expression, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade."  trite as the saying is, there's a great deal of truth in it.  life is indeed what we make of it.  tragedy, sorrow, and loss can transform us, making us see that we are one with all the others of the earth.  everyone experiences these difficulties.  suffering is universal.  without trials, we cannot know the problems others face, and we must turn our vision toward that common experience that all share.  we must develop compassion for the hurts of others if we are to overcome our own hurts.

may we contemplate a life that is built on deep-seated joy, not on the trivial pursuit of happiness.  may we place our faith in the strengths of our own minds, not in a great santa claus in the sky.  if we worship a god, may it be a God of ultimate, infinite compassion, rather than a vengeful god of rules and rituals.  may each of us find joy in the midst of suffering.  shalom.

To Be Consoled As To Console

 we are traveling, so my post this week will be brief.  it's nice to get away from home and to see new sights, to learn about other areas of the country, and to experience life in a different locale.  as always when we travel, we find that the people we encounter are very much like us, with many of the same problems, longings, and hopes for their own lives and for those they love.  this makes us aware of the common humanity of us all and takes us away from a world of "i" and "mine" to a perspective of "we" and "ours."  it is this shared humanity that will be the subject of my thoughts over the next several days and the theme about which i will write in the near future.  

may we look to how much we are alike and the strengths and frailties we all share.  may we see that compassion for ourselves and others are much the same thing.  may we be filled with love for all sentient beings.  shalom.

Through All Our Hopes and Fears

 in a few months my wife and i will turn seventy-five.  i remember how we felt when our parents reached that milestone.  we thought how remarkable it was that they had lived three-quarters of a century.  now we are almost at that same marker in life.  in my mind, i don't feel that old but when i engage in demanding physical activities, my body reminds me of all the years of use it has had.  i am amazed that it still functions as well as it does at my age.

during the last two days, i had some routine yard work to do and some spray painting of heavy yard ornaments to take care of.  we live at the top of a hill, and our yard slopes slightly in the back.  after i carted the weighty objects to the back of our lot to paint and back to their positions at the front of our house, my back and hips ached, even though i had used a dolly to carry the load.  both evenings after i completed my chores for the day, i had to take a pain killed in order to ease the pains.  a few years ago, these tasks would have been easy for me but now i can tell that the years have taken their toll.

these days, i have to stop and take frequent breaks when i have hours of work to do.  i can no longer go all day, pushing through tasks until they are completed.  i am grateful that i can still take care of my own yard and that, together, my wife and i can take care of the routine household chores.  we have friends who are a little older than we are who can hardly rise from a chair and who must hire someone to keep things going in and around their homes.  others have had to give up their homes altogether and move in with their children or into an "old folks home."  we hope that the day never comes when we are unable to live in our home or to take care of the necessary chores but that time may arrive for us as it has to others.  if it does, i pray that we will move on with dignity and with gratitude for having lived so long.

may we accept each stage of life as it comes to us, grateful for the memories we have made and for life itself.  may we not cling to the past or crave to be what we were in our younger years.  may we age with increasing wisdom, not with frustration at what once was.  shalom.