We Are So Close to Real Sanity

It is Friday morning, and as I reflect on this work week that is almost at an end, I realize that I am feeling much better than I have for a good while. I started this week with a strong resolve to attend to my inner life as much as outer life this week. And, I am starting to think that a person's relationship to his or her own soul is similar to the relationship of a person to a close family member. When we tend to that relationship, a sense of peace and love and meaning unites us with our loved one. When we ignore, avoid or take for granted that relationship, a sense of alienation and loss of peace comes between us and our loved one.

I am beginning to think that my relationship with my own soul is similar to that. This week, while attending to many other things, I didn't forget to stop and get a sense of the state of my own soul. I will talk more about this in the next post. But, for now, I am convinced that we are so close to experiencing a real, profound sanity in life. This is a sanity that comes from a soul that is awake and able to channel into our lives an amazing and gracious power that is new everyday. The soul is the gateway to another reality that we are meant to share in, but that we ignore. This other reality is the reality of the Great Other whose beauty and wisdom and mercy give fire to the Sun and also give fire to the soul.

'Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me bless God's holy name!" This is the song of my soul this morning. I pray that I show respect for the blessing of having a soul today as I go to court this morning. And, part of that showing respect is to recognize other human beings as those who share in that remarkable blessing of having a soul as well. We are so close to real sanity, because all it takes is learning how to make that inward journey to a place within us that is holy. But, while that journey is very short in terms of physical space, it can be very long in terms of personal travelling. Something this morning makes me very hopeful about this journey for human beings. It seems to me this morning that the way is much more simple and also closer in a personal sense than we have thought. Jesus said once: "Come unto me all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. For my burden is easy, and my yoke is light."

Finding Meaning in Normal Life

I was reading Ecclesiastes again, and the conclusions he reaches are very simple: you can't figure life out, but you can live it with a sense of joy if you learn to appreciate the normal.

"So go eat your bread and drink your wine and enjoy your vain life with the wife you love . . . "

"Eat, drink, and enjoy your daily work."

That doesn't sound a lot different from the Epicureans of Greece: "Eat, drink and be merry, for tommorrow we will die."

Maybe the Epicureans were not as far from widsom as we think.

It may be my bias against Epicurean philosophy or my bias in favor of scripture, but I get the sense that the Epicurean saying comes from a desperate manic mood about life, whereas Ecclesiastes' saying comes from a basic appreciation for the gift of life and a certain sense of peace with being a creature dependent on the Creator. But, maybe I am reading in a lot more than is there in Ecclesiastes.

I have always liked this book, standing as it does, in the middle of the Hebrew Bible. Maybe it wouldn't be so meaningful if it wasn't part of the Holy Scripture, if it just stood on its own.

And, I hear in it a profoundly simple message: "appreciate the normal." The getting up in the morning, the coffee, the sunrise, the fact that you have work to do and can do it, the food, the drink, a couple of people to share it with. And, the chance to figure out a few things today, and have plenty to work on tommorrow.

As I watch the news . . .

I haven't been one to watch the news or read newspapers very often over the years, but I have been drawn to news stories about what is going on in the Middle East. I see people sick and tired of being arrested without cause, held without representation, and tortured without any chance to challenge the deprivation of liberty and dignity. I have heard story after story of locking people up without due process of law. They are sick of it in Libya, in Egypt, and in other countries over there.

And, then I turn around and read the paper here, read the new laws passed by our legislature in Tennessee, and look at the news, and I see legislatures passing laws to deny due process rights among our citizens. People in the Mideast are dying to gain what we have but don't value.

"I Believe, Help Thou My Unbelief"

This is what the father of the demon-possessed boy says to Jesus as he seeks healing for his son. The scriptures tell us that the boy would be thrown down on the ground by the demon, foaming at the mouth, really much like a grand mal seizure, again and again.

The father, desperate for help, has brought his son to Jesus' disciples for help, but they can do nothing. The boy's torment, and his father's suffering, continues.

And, Jesus looks at his disciples saying, "This kind can only be cast out by fasting and prayer." Obviously, Jesus was not going to go away for fasting and prayer and then come back whenever to the man and his son. He was ready to offer help right then and there. I guess Jesus' point to his disciples was that he had prepared himself for this battle and they hadn't.

And, when Jesus says "all things are possible for the one who believes," the man cries out: "I believe, help thou my unbelief!" And, apparently that was plenty of faith as far as Jesus was concerned. In fact, that is a pretty fair response when you have been watching the suffering of one you love and no help has come though you have prayed like hell and though you have sought out everyone you know who might be able to help.

Jesus was looking for honest, human faith, not some out of body belief that wasn't tied to the real situation. And, this man expressed what was in his mind and heart as clearly as he could. "I believe, help thou my unbelief."

He believed because he couldn't give up loving his son. He didn't believe because he had prayed and done everything possible and everytime it brought no relief. Yes, he expressed things very well. "I believe, help thou my unbelief."

For anyone who has had a close friend or family member who just can't seem to get over a sickness or a destructive situation, this man is a patron saint. Because what can you do when you love, but your love doesn't ever seem to bring real change and help to the one you love? What are you supposed to do when your prayers never seem to bring any relief or help, when your hope is beaten down to the point that you stuggle to get back up and keep up the fight, even when the one you love seems to have given in or the one you love seems doomed by a sickness no one can resist or treat.

What can you do but try to bring that person before God and say: "I believe, help thou my unbelief." Because faith is part belief and part unbelief. Those people who seem to just believe without doubt or complaint, well . . . I'm not sure I believe them. Jesus seemed to have some honest struggle with his own destiny. "I pray that this cup might pass from me, but not my will but thy will be done."

But, many religious people would present the faithful life as if it has nothing to do with doubt and struggle and even bitter complaints to God at times. Of course, the Bible itself contains page after page of the faithful expressing doubts, complaints and even bitterness.

"I believe, help thou my unbelief," was good enough for Jesus and God.

*passage is in the Gospel of Mark 9:14-29

A Sense of Calling in Life

Some people have a sense of "calling" to a particular work; others just find something that seems to make sense for them. Others just make a living any way that they can find, and leave talk of "callings" to those who have the luxury to choose.

I am a person who had a very overpowering sense of "calling" when I was almost 20 years old. And, the sense of purpose coming out of that helped me to organize my thoughts and feelings in response to that call.

Psychologically speaking, adolescence and young adulthood is a natural time to experience a sense of calling, because it is in those years that we are struggling to form our adult identity. Some young adults are able to maintain or establish a positive sense of self and then find a job and learn how to live as adults in this world. But, some young people, like me yearned for something more. Maybe part of it was that I had the luxury of choices, since I was not desperate to put food on the table.

I am deeply thankful for the experience of feeling clear that I was to work with people who were in trouble, and to go into dark places with them in the name of God. I responded by transferring colleges, majoring in religion, reading a lot of theology,philosophy and Bible, and trying to make sense of things theologically and spiritually. I responded by deciding to go to seminary. I felt called to find out the truth, proclaim the truth and live the truth. And, that truth from God that I felt deeply had to do with standing with people who were down or cast out by others. It is this calling that has gotten me through a lot of confusion in my life, has carried me through times of self-doubt and sorrow, and that continues with me like an old friend at this point.

Of course, sometimes we get tired of old friends, and long for some new friends.

Though I do get weary of dealling with trouble, I am deeply thankful for this sense of purpose in life. I am not the kind of person who would adapt too well to societal expectations of adult life if I didn't have some individual sense of purpose.

As I get older and as I get tired of dealing with responsibilities and people's problems, and as I think of how great it would be to have a long,long vacation (maybe retirement) from dealing with people in trouble, I have to look at my old friend, my calling, who stood with me and held me up when I didn't have the strength to go on, who told me I was worth something when I felt so down, and that made me realize that my deepest purpose in life is not to be happy but to serve God - the God whose heart goes out to the poor, the downcast, and the outcast.

It has been my experience that happiness comes as a second thought, as a by-product of purpose. "Seek you first the kingdom of God and God's righteousness and all these things will be added unto you as well." If you set out to be happy, happiness usually remains out of reach. If you set out to fulfill a purpose, then happiness may not always be at the forefront, but it sneaks up on you again and again when you least expect it.

Reflecting on a thought from Howard Thurman

Howard Thurman writes in "Creative Encounter" that God meets and begins to communicate with each person at the point of "what God means to that person." Thurman speaks of the "God-residue" in each person's life. By that he means the impression left in a person's memory, heart, experience of God. Thurman's concept is a very intriguing one, like so many of the ways Thurman has of making sense of life. This concept of the "God-residue" in a person's life is one that is not interested in judging the rightness or wrongness of someone's view of God. For Thurman, whether a person views God as a cosmic police chief or as a loving father that view of God is sacred ground and a beginning point in the encounter between God and a human being. Thurman is above all interested in the meeting between God and human beings.

As I read this early yesterday morning, it really got me thinking about my preaching, teaching, writing in the church. I seem to do a good bit of instructing about the "proper view of God," about what God is like and what God is not like. Now, some of that is certainly part of being a minister, but much of that probably runs roughshod over some sacred ground in people's lives. If God is humble enough to meet us at the point of our understanding of God, then shouldn't people of limited understanding like me be humble enough to seek out that same starting point with people as I attempt to communicate with them about God? In fact, maybe if I placed more emphasis on understanding another person's view of God, then I might begin discovering how God is being revealed to that other person, instead of trying to get the other person to adopt the view I have of God.

What Thurman is really getting at in his book is that the true knowledge of God arises out of a real meeting between the human and the Divine. And, this meeting has all the back and forth, peculiarities of a real relationship where communication must begin somewhere, where communication often fails, but where true communication comes as revelation. This is a long way from trying to get someone to accept the conception you have about God.

I will try one analogy and then get on with other things today. How about this - there are three children in a family, all girls. One girl has a very close and understanding relationship with her mother. The other two girls have difficulty getting along with their mother. One day the girl who is close to the mother, instead of criticizing the other two for treating the mother badly, simply asks: "How do you think of our mother? If you had to describe her to a stranger, how would you describe her? Who is our mother to you?" After hearing from her two sisters, and clarifying just what their experience has been, then the two girls might ask: "So, who then is our mother to you?"

It seems to me that conversations like this bring understanding and perhaps even revelation about human relationships and about the divine-human relationship as well. Maybe the place where divine-human communication begins is much like the place where communication begins between humans - a sacred ground that is discovered by one who is deeply given to listening to the other. The Quakers speak of God as the one who brings new life to human beings by the Divine Listening. There is something mysterious and holy about real listening, really attending to another. When you feel that you are really being attended to or really attending to another, it causes something to come alive within and something to come to expression that is beyond what we are capable of alone.

Disengagement and Reengagement in Living

If you withdraw from participation in a particular group or relationship or even a hobby, a strange thing happens. Sometimes quickly, sometimes gradually, but eventually what happens is that your connection to the particular group or person or even hobby begins to die or at least it feels that way. And, when we begin to experience a deathly feeling with regard to a group or relationship or endeavor, then we lose our desire to resume our ties with that group or relationship or endeavor.

Of course, we might stop and wonder whether the group or other person in the relationship has really lost interest in us or lost a connection to us. The group or other person might be fine with us, just waiting in a sense for us to reappear. With regard to a hobby like gardening or hiking or painting or playing music or following a sport's team, there is not really a person on the other side, but only an activity that we have previously given ourselves to and enjoyed. Strangely, the dynamics of disengaging from a hobby is very similar to disengaging from a relationship with a person or group of persons. Once we withdraw from it for a time, we don't feel any energy or life coming from that interest anymore, and cease to be drawn to it. It is as if that part of ourselves that was interested and inspired by a particular pursuit has disappeared, just as in a relationship it feels like the person we are disengaged from has disappeared.

I am starting to think that our feelings of distance from others or certain activities is a necessary process of change which is really a way of leaving parts of ourselves behind that we are tired of. Often it is not the other person that we need to leave behind but simply the way we have become accustomed to being with that other person. It is the "how I am with this person" that I am tired of. With a relationship to a group of people, it can be the same. For example, I might become disengaged from my work at the Public Defender's Office because I am tired of how I am relating to my clients or my co-workers or adversary counsel or judges. Or, I might become disengaged from my work at church because I am tired of how I have become accustomed to relating to my parishioners.

Disengagement is necessary in all relationships at times, but then so is the insight that the most important thing you are disengaging from is a way of being your self that no longer seems to be working. If you can realize this, then you can then find out upon reengagement whether there is enough room for you to develop new patterns in a relationship or pursuit that create and sustain meaning in life.

I am learning upon disengaging with this group and that, and this hobby or that, that an emptiness comes from disengagement. There is a sense that you get something back when you are putting something in, and this giving and getting is mutually sustaining. When you cease contributing to others, to groups, to an activity, it can all become very still and even lifeless. But, when you keep on contributing in a way that depletes your self, then that causes growing frustration and only keeps up a false sense of purpose and meaning.

We are in a position as humans of needing to create meaning on a regular basis. The relationships we have, the work we do, the recreation we enjoy all play their role in creating and sustaining meaning in our lives. When the patterns that have created and sustained meaning have broken down or atrophied or disappeared for various reasons, we are faced with the challenge of giving ourselves to new relationships, or new groups, or new interests to create new patterns of living that provide us with meaning and energy for living.