God has a way of showing us our direction, and human experts often advise us to look at our current mix of activities to discern where our focus has shifted. My shift has been to new opportunities in my consulting business and in my growing ministry as an Eldercare Information Guide. Support to family and friends under stress has also increased recently (Life happens!).
Given life, I've decided to pause in posting here for a while and free up time just to listen to the Spirit's urging.
For Newcomers to this Blog, welcome! Take some time to browse. For all my readers, I'll still be monitoring for comments, so do be in touch. To see the direction of my ministry-business, check out Parentcare 101.
God is with us while we are apart. Blessings!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Surrender To Good
A few months ago, I challenged us to consider the question, "Why is there suffering in the world?" Our first answer came from Bart Ehrman's scripture analysis--humans suffer because they are being punished by God for their sin(s). Responses to this idea were strongly negative. I'm still reading Ehrman's book, but came across another idea.
In Lyn Cote's book Her Healing Ways, Lon and Mercy, the hero and heroine, are discussing why God did not intervene to stop The Civil War. Mercy, a Quaker, says,
This concept does not cover the suffering that comes from illness or natural disaster, but I believe that it covers quite a bit of the world's suffering instigated by one of the Seven Deadly Sins (greed, lust, gluttony, sloth, envy, pride, and wrath). These are all propagated by humans. It also covers the internal suffering we bring on ourselves--holding a grudge, clutching to past injuries, choosing to live in pessimism instead of optimism.
What do you think? If we all "surrender to good", would suffering be eliminated from the world?
In Lyn Cote's book Her Healing Ways, Lon and Mercy, the hero and heroine, are discussing why God did not intervene to stop The Civil War. Mercy, a Quaker, says,
"...God cannot make humans do something they do not want to do. The Confederacy would not surrender until it could no longer go on."
"So evil exists because people won't surrender to good?" Lon asks.
Mercy answers, "Yes...If we all put our efforts into doing the good for others that God wants for us, this world would be a better place."
Her Healing Ways, pg. 214
In this view God does not have any hand in suffering. God does not intervene. Humans bring suffering on themselves. I have also heard this concept illustrated through the American Indian story of "Feeding the White Dog". A young Indian battles good (the White Dog) and evil (the Black Dog) in his dreams until the elder explains, "Feed the White Dog".This concept does not cover the suffering that comes from illness or natural disaster, but I believe that it covers quite a bit of the world's suffering instigated by one of the Seven Deadly Sins (greed, lust, gluttony, sloth, envy, pride, and wrath). These are all propagated by humans. It also covers the internal suffering we bring on ourselves--holding a grudge, clutching to past injuries, choosing to live in pessimism instead of optimism.
What do you think? If we all "surrender to good", would suffering be eliminated from the world?
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Born To Die
I've been listening to Christmas music, and I've got a CD by Barbara Mandrell that I enjoy ("Christmas At Our House", 1984). There's one song that really caught my attention this year. It's called "Born To Die" written by Shireen Salyer. The point of the song is that Jesus was sent to earth to die for us, and in his birth, we can already see his death. God's heart must have broken because He knew His son was to die. Mary's grief was overwhelming because she knew that her baby son would die. The tune is haunting; the lyrics, poignant; Ms. Mandrell's voice, a blessing.
"Born to die" is a common theme in the Christian world. In one of my readings, an author pointed out that the Nicene Creed says of Jesus: "...he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilot; he suffered death and was buried." No hint of the marvelous, loving and revolutionary things that Jesus did while he was alive. Birth, death--and resurrection--are the most notable points in this person's existence.
I was struck hard by the whole idea this week because my father-in-law is very ill right now and words like "palliative care" and "hospice" are creeping into conversations with his care team. I thought about my father-in-law's life--a force in the house, working several jobs to provide for his family, telling stories about growing up in Philadelphia, mentoring young electricians--and my gut rejected the "born-to-die" description. Dad was born to live.
It's a matter of perspective, isn't it? We're all born to die, if we take the traditional Christian approach. And if we move through life with that perspective, we may live life with anxious urgency or we may brush along life's surface, attention focused on the dying part.
On the other hand, we can face our existence as if we're born to live. Then what we do with our lives matters. The decisions we make that affect ourselves and others matter. Working for the Beloved Community matters. Embracing life's complexity matters.
During the Christmas season, let's remember that Jesus was born to live, to teach us, to guide us, to show us how to see the Divine every day. Let's remember that we were born to live. To immerse ourselves in life with all its joys and sorrows. To give to ourselves and others in balanced measure. To let God shine out into the world through us.
Let us be Christians who are born to live. May it be so. Amen.
"Born to die" is a common theme in the Christian world. In one of my readings, an author pointed out that the Nicene Creed says of Jesus: "...he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilot; he suffered death and was buried." No hint of the marvelous, loving and revolutionary things that Jesus did while he was alive. Birth, death--and resurrection--are the most notable points in this person's existence.
I was struck hard by the whole idea this week because my father-in-law is very ill right now and words like "palliative care" and "hospice" are creeping into conversations with his care team. I thought about my father-in-law's life--a force in the house, working several jobs to provide for his family, telling stories about growing up in Philadelphia, mentoring young electricians--and my gut rejected the "born-to-die" description. Dad was born to live.
It's a matter of perspective, isn't it? We're all born to die, if we take the traditional Christian approach. And if we move through life with that perspective, we may live life with anxious urgency or we may brush along life's surface, attention focused on the dying part.
On the other hand, we can face our existence as if we're born to live. Then what we do with our lives matters. The decisions we make that affect ourselves and others matter. Working for the Beloved Community matters. Embracing life's complexity matters.
During the Christmas season, let's remember that Jesus was born to live, to teach us, to guide us, to show us how to see the Divine every day. Let's remember that we were born to live. To immerse ourselves in life with all its joys and sorrows. To give to ourselves and others in balanced measure. To let God shine out into the world through us.
Let us be Christians who are born to live. May it be so. Amen.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Reflection for Christmas
Become perfect as the spirit of your Heavenly Father and the body of your Earthly Mother are perfect. And so love your Heavenly Father, as he loves your spirit. And so love your Earthly Mother, as she loves your body. And so love your true brothers, as your Heavenly Father and your Earthly Mother love them. And then your Heavenly Father shall give you his holy spirit, and your Earthly Mother shall give you her holy body and then shall the Sons of Men like true brothers give love to one another; and then shall all become comforters one of another. And then shall disappear from the earth all evil and all sorrow, and there shall be love and joy upon earth. And then shall the earth be like the heavens, and the kingdom of God shall come. For love is eternal. Love is stronger than death.-The Essene Gospel of Peace, 1937 (1981), Edmond Bordeaux Szekely
It is the season to remember that one of the ways in which God becomes visible to us is through love. Love is a verb; we act for God, moving through the world. It is through us that God becomes visible.
This is the miracle of the incarnation.
May you bring the Spark of the Divine into the world this day and every day.
Merry Christmas!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
"Almost Heaven..."
For Thanksgiving this year, we drove to visit family in Pennsylvania. The trip takes us through the center of West Virginia, and as we drove through the "Wild and Wonderful" state, I could heard the John Denver song* loud and clear.
Another way to describe the land we crossed is "God's Country". People use this phrase for unspoiled land, a landscape untouched by humans, or one that reflects the power of God the Creator. More and more, I get the feeling that God's Country may be land that humans feel is too inhospitable for feasible economic development.
In the US, there's very little of God's Country left that doesn't have some imprint of a human hand on it. West Virginia is a state with a smaller population than its neighbors, and scenery that looks like some monster bear drew its claws through the land to create the layers of rolled hills, their outline softened by the brushy tops of leafless trees. Even here, there is the human touch. Light, perhaps, but there, nonetheless. The highway itself with its green direction signs and blue services signs cuts through with arrogant certainty. The large electric wire structures. Bare ski trails like tears on the mountainside. Cell phone tower spikes. Railroad tracks running along the bank of a creek. Billboard ads stuck on steep inclines blanketed with trees. Makes you wonder how the workers get to them. Water towers that look like one-half of a dumbbell stuck into the ground.
Driving in West Virginia is not for the faint of heart. Sitting as the state does in the Appalachian chain, there are l-o-n-g, s-l-o-w climbs up and down and long, winding curves. Guard rails are either an immovable mountain of rock or a thin ribbon of steel over which you can see nothing but the tops of trees and air. At 70 mph, the interstate demands your full driving attention.
We passed clusters of houses tucked into a holler that later became the route for the highway, miles from any sign of business, post office or general store. We saw black-faced sheep, small herds of black cattle, ponies, the occassional llama. A different lifestyle from what I'm used to. More isolated, more dependent on the land, neighbors, God.
Your description of God's Country may take a different form--rocky beaches, or vast plains or crystal blue lakes, towering mountains or endless desert--but having been born and raised in Western Pennsylvania, the "dark and dusty" vistas of West Virginia speak to me not with a joyous shout, but with a deep whisper of divine presence and praise; a low rumble of agelessness that doesn't have a source, but emanates from the Earth Mother. The ancient power here is not splashy, but simmers in the forested hills.
Where do you find God's Country?
Take moment to give thanks for the land and waters we share with all life. And pray that we take good care of it.
*"Take Me Home, Country Roads". Bill Danoff, Taffy Nivert and John Denver. Cherry Lane Music, 1971.
Another way to describe the land we crossed is "God's Country". People use this phrase for unspoiled land, a landscape untouched by humans, or one that reflects the power of God the Creator. More and more, I get the feeling that God's Country may be land that humans feel is too inhospitable for feasible economic development.
In the US, there's very little of God's Country left that doesn't have some imprint of a human hand on it. West Virginia is a state with a smaller population than its neighbors, and scenery that looks like some monster bear drew its claws through the land to create the layers of rolled hills, their outline softened by the brushy tops of leafless trees. Even here, there is the human touch. Light, perhaps, but there, nonetheless. The highway itself with its green direction signs and blue services signs cuts through with arrogant certainty. The large electric wire structures. Bare ski trails like tears on the mountainside. Cell phone tower spikes. Railroad tracks running along the bank of a creek. Billboard ads stuck on steep inclines blanketed with trees. Makes you wonder how the workers get to them. Water towers that look like one-half of a dumbbell stuck into the ground.
Driving in West Virginia is not for the faint of heart. Sitting as the state does in the Appalachian chain, there are l-o-n-g, s-l-o-w climbs up and down and long, winding curves. Guard rails are either an immovable mountain of rock or a thin ribbon of steel over which you can see nothing but the tops of trees and air. At 70 mph, the interstate demands your full driving attention.
We passed clusters of houses tucked into a holler that later became the route for the highway, miles from any sign of business, post office or general store. We saw black-faced sheep, small herds of black cattle, ponies, the occassional llama. A different lifestyle from what I'm used to. More isolated, more dependent on the land, neighbors, God.
Your description of God's Country may take a different form--rocky beaches, or vast plains or crystal blue lakes, towering mountains or endless desert--but having been born and raised in Western Pennsylvania, the "dark and dusty" vistas of West Virginia speak to me not with a joyous shout, but with a deep whisper of divine presence and praise; a low rumble of agelessness that doesn't have a source, but emanates from the Earth Mother. The ancient power here is not splashy, but simmers in the forested hills.
Where do you find God's Country?
Take moment to give thanks for the land and waters we share with all life. And pray that we take good care of it.
*"Take Me Home, Country Roads". Bill Danoff, Taffy Nivert and John Denver. Cherry Lane Music, 1971.
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