Things You Need to Know, part four

Spirit is not some ephemeral, intellectual abstract. It is love, it is tangible, it is palpable, it is both real & true.

Things You Need to Know, part three

Matter matters. There is Spirit oozed into every space between the electrons. We cannot separate matter from Spirit. It is all sacred.

Things You Need to Know, part two

You have to know what you're looking for. Spirituality takes training.

Things You Need to Know, Part One

The religious paths are true. Whether they are 'real' was never the point. Choose one.

Soaring with the Spirit

What would it look like to let go completely, so stop trying to use my own frail strength to forge the godly relationship? I picture the Spirit holding me back to belly, her arms gently & safely around me, as we soar above the earth together - looking down upon the world in mutual delight, pointing out to each other trees, flowers, rocks, people. Delight. Total delight.

That's how we are supposed to live. Held in the unfailing arms of the Spirit, buoyed into a lightness of being that allows us to delight in God's creation, in communion with our Deity, full of love & joy.

Held Tight

After a bout of doldrums, I apologized in prayer to the Christ for letting go of him and succumbing to my own grief.

"No problem," he responded with a big, blinding, loving grin. "Didn't you notice? I held you tight. You didn't go anywhere."

Ah. It's not the strength of my grip, but the strength of God's that matters.

God to the Nth

Do I believe in an anthropomorphic God? Yes, and so much more. The morph-vision I had of God included human male & female, but also other, unfamiliar presentations. Anthropomorphism is one manifestation, but certainly not the entirety of the Godhead.

I am an 'n'-tarian: Trinitarian plus. As Christians, we believe we have correctly named three representations of God, but I suspect there are infinitely more.

God to the first power = Judiasm, Islam
God to the third power = Christianity
God to the nth power = me

The Mighty Mountain of God

I picture God as a mountain. There are many paths already worn up and around this mountain: major paths like Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, Judaism & Islam, as well as less-worn paths. Most of us choose a path whose entry point is near us – Christianity in the West or Hinduism in India, for example.

Those who say, “I will forge my own path to God,” rarely ascend beyond the foothills. It is a lofty goal to strive to be in the trail-blazing company of Jesus, Buddha, Mohammad & others. The danger of ‘my own path’ is that it is very difficult to forge a new way. It is much more likely that we will miss out on most of the journey by giving up while still on the gentle slopes, after using up our energy hacking through thorns & brush. ‘My own path’ is usually a short track that leads only to a shallow spirituality.

Agnostics refuse to step foot upon the mountain, reasoning that because they cannot see the summit, they cannot commit to a path that claims to climb. Atheists spend their lives with averted eyes, claiming that the mountain does not exist.

The rest of us scrabble blindly upon the mountain on our hands & knees, unseeing but determined to forge ahead. How blessed are those saints who light the path for us, at least for a few steps! They illuminate, for a glimmering moment, our journey’s end: granting us a vision of beauty, love, hope & joy, & giving us the strength to clamber on.

The Madness of Mercy

We who have no hope must yet hope. We who have tasted death must look through it to life. We must journey & believe that we will arrive, though we suspect we cannot.

We must wear our inside on the outside, & believe that we can internalize that which is external, believe that we can transform it through our spiritual bowels into hope.

What madness is this?

It is the madness of mercy. It is God's mercy, which transforms all things into glory through love, mixing & blending all - good, evil, up, down, right, wrong - into a mad swirl Beyond our senses. We Name the swirl Nirvana, Heaven, Paradise - unknowable & yet deeply known.

Enjoy the Harvest

What do you have for me, God?

He replies, "It's the season of harvest. Relax & enjoy! Look also for opportunities for spiritual harvest, for they will be present." I sense that God desires my joy. To be pleased & excited with the gifts of the harvest touches Him deeply.

God chooses to need us, and our delight pleases Him above all else.

Tangled Knots - a poem

I give to you, O God,
all
the sticky, tangled
knots
inside of me

over
and over
and over
and over again,
Will I give them to You.

Until they fix
to You
and not
to me.

Until they
are totally
Yours,
and
You can
snap
Your fingers
and turn them
to dust.

She Who Heals

In a Taize service, I sit before cross & candle, meditating. God stands before me. She reaches into me and starts pulling on a large tumor of pain & hurt. The tumor has tentacles that reach deep, twining around my essential parts, its stringy fingers reaching even into my brain.

She gives a hard tug. It hurts like crazy when She does that, making my eyes water. But it is too twisted and tangled in my essence to give way.

"I just wanted you to see how deeply embedded your pain is," she says. "There is no way you can get it out yourself." I nod agreement, my eyes still stinging.

Then she taps her fingers together. The stringy, globby mess turns to dust & blows away.

"But I can take care of it all," she notes. She taps her fingers again, and the tumor returns.

"I just wanted you to see how easily I can heal. When you're ready, ask," she says.

A bell rings. Meditation time is over. The vision fades. The reading begins. It says,

"The pain & the wounds go too deep for us to heal alone. Only God, only a far Greater Power can penetrate such depth of pain, & gently, gently soothe & kiss us into wholeness. It is too much for us, all of it has to be given over entirely to God. All of it."

Why do I hold so doggedly to my sorrows? Uncurl your fingers, let loose the pain, be healed.

Heart Swap

In meditation, God appears before me in female form. She starts reaching inside of me. "You don't need this anymore," She says, pulling from the region of my lower right back, which always aches. I was once told by a psychic that this is where I store the hurts of others.

She continues to pull & fuss & rearrange me from the inside, and finally She pulls my heart out and looks at it. It is broken, hard & calcified. It's a very ugly dead thing in Her hand.

"Do you really think you need this?" She asks me. I agree that it doesn't look very functional.

"Great!" She says, tucking it inside her robes. "I'll just keep it." Then She reaches into Her own chest and brings forth a little blob of red, pulsing matter.

"Here," She says. "I'll trade you. Take a piece of my heart, instead."

She places it inside of me. I'm disappointed. "I don't feel any different."

"Oh, you will," She reponds. "Just give it a little time."

In Good Hands

Before cross & candle: “OK, God, what do you have for me?”

Instantly, my mind explodes with an amazing montage as God morphs male, female, young , old, father, mother, and even some representations that are so alien I can’t comprehend them. I see, in a flash, the tiniest portion of this Deity I’ve chosen to follow.

It leaves me stunned. It is impossible for me – or any human – to ever ‘know’ this Being. But in an odd way, it is comforting – I truly understand now that I’m in capable hands.

The Terrible Gift of Greatness

I was asked, “Which would you rather have and why: Genius-level intellect, world-class talent or stunning good looks?” My response:

"Gosh, since I already have all three… :) (just kidding...)

I would rather have strength of character and a kind heart.

Looks fade and can change in an instant through misfortune. Athletic talent erodes with the passing of years and the weakening of the human body. Even genius-level intellect is faint consolation compared with the joy of caring."

About talent: those given extraordinary talent carry with them the responsibility to use what has been given. There is nothing so sad as the one who squanders great talent. There is also nothing so sad as one who fully uses their talent, because great gifts mean great trials and a life that may not be one’s own to choose.