Category: Creation

What every one of us shares….

“We are separated by continents
but share the same vast, beautiful, and sunlit sky.”

Some years ago, our daughter-in-law’s family shared images of a funeral outside Tehran. Held to commemorate the life of a grandmother on her father’s side, and as customary in the Middle East, the funeral procession took place outdoors. Surrounded by family and friends, several men, including our daughter-in-law’s father, carried the deceased. Wrapped in linen cloth, the body lay on a narrow platform hoisted on the shoulders of men who brought her to her final resting place.  

The palpable grief of those during the procession and subsequent burial all took place against the backdrop of a vast, blue, sunlit sky. As the funeral came to a close, our daughter-in-law’s father took the body of his mother into his arms and gently placed her in a freshly dug grave. 

Death comes to all of us. Yet the images of these past weeks from the land of Israel and Palestine are saturated with atrocity. There is death that comes after a long life, and then there is the kind of death that is senseless, depraved, and malevolent. No matter what side we may find ourselves on, can any of us justify the annihilation of children and youth? Can any one of us excuse unleashing weapons of mass destruction aimed not at military targets but at whole neighborhoods and cities?   

I ponder these questions in the face of the mayhem that continues in what is also known as the Holy Land. Located between the Mediterranean Sea and the Eastern Bank of the Jordan River, a land of significance for Jews, Christians, and Muslims for decades, it is also a land saturated by war and grief. But lest we forget, every single one of us shares the same vast, beautiful, and sunlit sky.  

Prayer: Divine Maker, when we find ourselves consumed with anger and grief but at a loss for words, compel us to lift our eyes to the hills from whence your help comes. [2] Through your grace, may we have the courage to refrain from violence, instead asking the difficult questions that persist. For just as grief comes to every single one of us, You hold us in the embrace of the same vast, beautiful, and sunlit sky. Amen

[1]  Sunset off the coast of Rhode Island, January 2021

[2] Psalm 121

Turning the Tables on Big Oil

Who would have thought that a handful of Montana youth could successfully win their day in court and against Big Oil at that? But then, every once in a while, the young Davids of this world triumph over behemoths like Goliath. Now, other states are looking to these youth and their strategy as a blueprint.  

Does this mean fossil fuel is on its way out? Hardly. The clash between conservative ideologues seeking to shield fossil fuel industries from climate action and those advocating for renewable energy to limit the amount of carbon pumped into the atmosphere continues unabated. As with Texas, oil is considered the “lifeblood” of Montana’s economy…even though the state has warmed faster than the national average, heating up to 2.7 degrees Fahrenheit since 1950. [1] Nevertheless:

Montana has never denied a fossil fuel permit, whether for extraction, transportation, or burning fossil fuels. In a 2022 debate, then-candidate Ryan Zinke, now a Republican member of the U.S. House of Representatives, proudly said he wanted no part of the clean energy transition… During this winter’s legislative session, state lawmakers tried to ban teaching scientific theories in K-12 education. They passed new laws that blocked cities from making policies that would encourage non-fossil energy sources. [2]

What these youths did and continue to lobby for is profound, which makes it all the more imperative that the rest of us support their efforts by continuing to press onward for a healthier and greener world. It isn’t just up to the young. They can’t do it on their own, nor should they. The peril of ecological devastation falls more heavily on them while inflicting future generations.  We all have work to do. We must join hands and do all we can to save our planet and God’s beloved Creation. As it is often said, “This is the only home we’ve got.”

Prayer: In your providence, Divine Creator, instill within us the conviction that the best way to cope with climate grief is to do what we can when we can, despite the obstacles and inevitable setbacks. Teach us to stand in solidarity with our children and youth, those of this generation and the next. Grant us your vision of hope; we pray so as to be faithful till the end. We ask this in all the holy names of God. Amen.

[1] Even a 1.8% increase in temperature spells trouble for our climate: imhttps://www.climate.gov/news-features/climate-qa/global-warming-18%C2%B0-f-1%C2%B0-c-seems-small-so-why-change-global-temperature

[2] https://yaleclimateconnections.org/2023/06/inside-the-unexpectedly-wild-landmark-montana-youth-climate-trial/

[3] On this 9/11 anniversary,  we hold dear the memory of all those who lost their lives while carrying the hope for a saner and more compassionate world.   

Awakening

  “I want to do my part,” she said with earnest, “but with so much unraveling taking place across the planet, I wonder if I can do anything.”

  The sage nodded with understanding, “Going in with eyes wide open isn’t cynicism,” he said. “Nor is having severe misgivings about doing your part a sign of hopelessness. What if wanting to do your part despite raging wildfires, upending hurricanes, vitriolic conflicts, and violence inflicted on the most vulnerable is evidence of something more tangible…such as an awakening?”

  “Isn’t everyone awake?” she replied.  

At this, the wizened old man shook his head sadly. “No,” he said. “The awakening I speak of asks something of us. To be awake is to ‘wake up in this world instead of waiting for the next.’ [1] It is choosing to do your part, however small and insignificant that may seem at the time.”  

“But what if others resent it when I do my part?” she responded. “Giving lip service to exercising one’s conscience is one thing. But advocating for those on the margins – the poor, the indigent, the migrant, the homeless, and the welfare of our planet – can get you into trouble. Some are so angry they only see things in terms of winning and losing.”

At this, the sage smiled. “My dear child, if you get into trouble for doing what the conscionable thing to do is, what is the just, the compassionate, and the merciful thing to do, then you will be keeping company with the likes of Francis of Assisi, Harriet Tubman, and Martin Luther King, Jr.” He then added, “Their own awakening meant they had to do their part – however difficult their task and misunderstood they were in their time.” [2]

“Besides,” he added, “you won’t be alone no matter the obstacles. For you will keep company with the saints, the prophets, and the activists who have gone before you and those who stand with you now.”

Closing Prayer: Divine Maker, in the face of so much uncertainty and despair, summon me to keep company with the least of these. Teach me that by doing my part, however seemingly insignificant, I will join those who have been let in on the big divine secret.  That to exercise one’s conscience despite the cost – bestows that most paradoxical of blessings – which is to receive the coming of the Lord. [3]   We offer this in all the holy names of God. Amen. 

[1] Center for Action and Contemplation

[2] https://www.ncronline.org/news/rohr-church-needs-awakening-soul

[] Matthew 24:42 

 

Creation’s Tridiuum

“My kingdom is not of this world,” he said.
Though the Roman prefect before him
proved incapable of wielding anything save violence,
for the rest of us, a universe of possibility opened

By Jesus’ words, he leads us to consider
that his kingdom is not an ethereal cloud,
a remote outpost in the outer reaches of space,
or an unattainable place for the rest of the ordinary lot

No, the realm he spoke of is Creation itself,
a paradise born of Eden, where the command
to “till and keep” meant that the garden never
belonged to us, but God alone.

And You, mistaken for the gardener awash in the first light of morning,
Raise us to take up the mantle as intended from the beginning,
Tending each other, the lands and seas, the valleys and mountains, and all the earth’s creatures, For the Creator’s sake and not our own.

[1]  Sundown on Maundy Thursday to sundown on Easter Sunday is considered the most solemn of the liturgical year.   This three-day period is known as the Easter Triduum.

[2] John 18:36

[3] Genesis 2:15

[4] John 20:15

Love’s Endeavor

“The endeavor to genuinely love engages all our emotions.” [1]

Imagine if love’s goodness includes facing the obstacle that challenges us?     Which, of course, seems counterintuitive.  If love is genuine, it should be experienced as uplifting, inspiring, or consoling, right?  Any indication otherwise refutes it as satisfying the auspices of love.

Yet what if authentic love insists on not being limited?    What if love means engaging ALL of our emotions?    Those we gravitate to, such as a sense of belonging, intimacy, trustfulness, and tenderness, and those we do our utmost to avoid: raw, fierce,  deeply honest, and fearful emotions.

Loving this way makes a “…personal, spiritual, ethical, and moral demand on us.” [1]  An insistent love, yes, but a wholly inclusive one.  A love not separated from the truth but bound up in it.  A love that is inconvenient and even hurtful at times.   But a love that also moves us beyond sentiment and into the realm of trustful connections, authentic living, and even joy.

Prayer: On this St. Valentine’s Day, Limitless One, we give thanks that your summons to love authentically is not in opposition to living joyfully.  Instead, in your fierceness and fullness, you seek to complete us, humankind, and all Creation.  May we, as your children, incarnate your love, a love not separated from the truth but bound up in it.  We ask this in all the holy names of God. Amen.

  [1]  Rev. Dr. Jacqui Lewis, an author and activist, Rev. Lewis is the Senior Minister for Public Theology and Transformation at Middle Church in NYC

 

 

“You don’t have to prove anything…”

“‘You don’t have to
prove anything,’ my mother said.
‘Just be ready
for what God sends.'”
William Stafford, his final poem, written on the morning of his death

William Stafford came from a highly literate family, even though his determinative years emerged during the depression.  Nor did he have the advantage of growing up and attending schools in the same setting.  Instead, his father moved his family from town to town in search of work.  To help out, young William worked as an electrician’s apprentice, delivered newspapers, worked in sugar beet fields, and raised vegetables.    Perhaps, despite being frequently uprooted, the tasks of everyday work, along with reading and paying attention even to the ordinary, proved to be formative.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” his mother had once told him.  “Just be ready for what God sends.”   Written on the morning of his death, these words reflect a man for whom attentiveness and readiness were an indelible hallmark of his writing.    Be it a grassy riverbank, the rustle of leaves on a sturdy oak, the brilliance of stars in the night sky, inflections of speech, or musing on the wisdom of Native Americans, his parents, and other writers, his was a life that “followed that golden thread” to where it would lead him.   His legacy as a writer, a poet, and a conscientious objector, was forged through being ready for what God might send.

Prayer: Divine Maker, In the face of the unraveling of our planet and, at times, our lives, remind us that we don’t have to prove anything.    Instead, teach us to be attentive and ready for what you might send, for this is where your Message of consolation, encouragement, and strength is made real.  Resting in the assurance of your boundless love, we pray this in all the holy names of God. Amen.

 

 

God is always needing to be born…

 

“We are all meant to be mothers of God. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the Divine Son takes place unceasingly but not within myself? And what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace, but I am not also full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to his Son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and culture?” Meister Eckhart

Eckhart was ahead of his time. So it shouldn’t surprise us that his preaching and teaching in 13th/14th century Germany was considered, at best, scandalous.   Considered a heretic by the church hierarchy, the suggestion that the omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent God, having been born in the person of Jesus, still needed to be delivered elsewhere was shocking. Deemed unorthodox and, thereby, dangerous, Eckhart was summoned to be brought before the Inquisition.

But what if God needs to be born time and time again…and by each of us no less? What if, as scandalous as this may sound, “we are all meant to be mothers of God?” If this is so, the implications are nothing less than profound! Imagine if the practice of genuine forgiveness – is nothing less than birthing the grace of God? Imagine if making honest amends for whatever wrong we’ve done can usher in the holy? What if helping an elder cross a busy intersection, giving a weary store cashier a warm smile, or protecting a section of forest from further development, can birth God?

Prayer: Divine Maker, In the wake of so much sorrow and isolation, you summon us to be nothing less than mothers of God. We give thanks that your summons is not in opposition to a life of freedom, joy, and peace…but attests to the luminescent reality that the Kingdom of God dwells within. We pray this in all the holy names of God. Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

The Blessing of the Longest Night

This is the night when you can trust,
that any direction you go,
you will be walking toward the dawn.  [2]

Can we trust that the direction we’re headed will get us there?   How about those times when we were certain that the path was the right one…only to discover that we’ve lost our way?     What of those times when we’re unsure what lies beyond the bend?

But to the ancients, Winter Solistice signified that despite missteps and misfortune, something altogether mysterious was afoot.   From the neolithic structures in England and Ireland, the worship of the gods Apollo and Saturn by the ancient Greeks and Romans, observances by the Native Americans, and the ancient Persian festival of Shab-e Yalda, this union of awareness emerges and takes hold.   Even when Christianity emerged onto the world scene, ancient winter solstice celebrations became incorporated into Christmas.

What, then, is the Blessing of the Longest Night?    Though the world’s peoples are separated by geography and culture; language and religion; ethnicity, national identity, and borders; the longest night ushers in a shared human experience.   A shared experience marked by a sense of wonder and celebration.    Despite all that divides us as the human family,   for the briefest moments, we become one.   A union and blessing that walks us and all creation toward a new dawn and a new beginning.

[1] Image by SASCHA SCHUERMANN | Credit: AFP/Getty Images

[1] An excerpt from Jan L. Richardson’s poem, Blessing for the Longest Night.

 

 

When You Can’t Pray….

“Often the longings of prayer, are diffused and muted longings,
that one barely feels at all.” [1]

How can one pray, when there isn’t the remotest desire or longing to do so?  For that matter, how can anyone fall back on prayer when they’re painfully aware of its insufficiency?    In the face of so much unnecessary suffering, exploitation, and violence, why even suggest this practice (other than not knowing what else to do or say)?

Writes author, James Finley, “There is, it seems, a deal that [our] heart makes with itself, so as NOT to admit that it harbors a longing so deep that it can’t continue…” [2]  What I think he speaks of here, is that ironclad agreement we make with ourselves – often without being consciously aware of it.   For when the mowing down of civilians is routinized; human and civil rights systematically usurped; forests, rivers, and its creatures plundered; institutions routinely violated, and fascism lauded by those in public office – is it any wonder we’ve learned to cope by shaking our heads and doing what we can to get through another day?

Yet when you’re worn out, and you can’t pray or even want to for that matter, could recognizing this be a new beginning?    Yes, the great sages and mystics throughout the ages gifted us with meaningful and beautifully composed prayers, but their stories are incomplete if we forget their own struggles. Perhaps, as James Finley has observed, “…despite their doubt and [disheartedness], through it all they perceived that God continued to love them anyway.”[3]

Prayer: Divine Maker, who knows me better than I know myself, thank you for continuing to hold me in love, even when I don’t believe in you.   Thank you for believing in me, even when I have lost faith in myself.   We ask this in all the holy names of God.  Amen.

 

[1, 2 & 3] James Finley, from Christian Meditation

We Are All Just Walking Each Other Home

“We are all just walking each other home,”  Ram Dass [2]

This pathway and vista off into the distance offer an image of the Pilgrimage of Compostela, which in English is the Way of St James.    A network of paths or pilgrim ways leads to the shine of the Apostle St. James the Great, in the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain.    Along with Jerusalem and Rome, the route along the Camino de Santiago is known as one of the three great pilgrimages of Christendom.

Wrote the spiritual teacher and author, Ram Dass, “We are all just walking each other home.”   While all of us are on a spiritual journey, Dass perceived that each of us (whether consciously or not) is on a path leading us back to our source.   Wrote another, “Even if you do not believe in life as a spiritual journey or take solace in the notion of an afterlife, the concept of walking each other home is important.   It’s what holds us together.” [3]

Emerging from the isolation of a two-plus-year pandemic, compounded by economic uncertainty, political unrest, unleashed aggression, and the unraveling of our planetary home, is it possible to hold one’s self together?  Or, as evidenced by the centuries-old practice of pilgrimage and communicated by spiritual teachers, writers, and poets, we’re not meant to take all this in alone.   What if instead, despite the brevity of our lives and the frailty of creation, we’re summoned to accompany each other on life’s way, bringing out the best in one another while doing all that we can in the time given us?

Prayer: Divine Maker, In the wake of so much loneliness and despair, open our eyes to see others on the road before, alongside, and behind us.    Teach us that holiness (wholeness) was never intended a private, super-religious affair but one that asks that we look to the welfare of the other….wherever on the journey they may be.  Remind us, that we are all just walking each other home.   We ask this in all the holy names of God.  Amen.

[1]  Photo courtesy of Patrick Mills.  The photo was taken on June 5, 2017, near O Pino, Spain on the Camino de Santiago.

[2] Ram Dass and Mirabai Bush, Walking Each Other Home: Conversations on Loving and Dying, September 2018

[3] Carol Cassandra, https://sixtyandme.com/how-life-is-a-journey-of-just-walking-each-other-home/, adapted

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