We once lived in the Sand Hills of Nebraska-- Richard, and Julia and I (this was before Jennifer). Geologically speaking, the Sand Hills are a moon-scape of stabilized dunes, held in place by long grass, yucca, wildflowers, and sage. It is an arid land. People there never dared pray for rain, they talked hopefully of getting “a little moisture.” It was an unsettled land until the railroad went through, and it would not have been a land to sustain much more than bird life if it weren’t for the ingenuity of the well. There was, in fact, plenty of water just below the surface. The Sand Hills cover the Ogallala Aquifer, a vast underground lake of fresh water. Folks might have to drill deep, but wherever they sink their well, they draw from the same aquifer. That’s how I visualize it, anyway: every pump pulling water up from the same source.
That is also how I see other spiritual traditions. Contemplative prayer, Gregorian chant, Buddhist meditation, Hatha yoga, Kabbalah, Sufism—all are born of the same yearning of the soul for union with the source of all life, which we call God. There are different wells, but ultimately, we draw from the same source.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Who Do You Think You Are?
I was in the car, listening to mid-day on Public Radio, and I think Julia was with me when I heard Mitch Albom talking about his book, Have a Little Faith. Albom was describing a conversation he had with his rabbi, who was nearing the end of his life. The rabbi prayed in his characteristic sing-song voice,
And he smiled.
But Mitch was uncomfortable, and his old rabbi could see that something was bothering him.
What?
Well, I don’t think we are going to the same place.
Why not?
Because, you’re on a different level, you’re a man of God.
So are you the rabbi said. Everyone is.
I could feel the rabbi’s pain when I heard that story. I said aloud, “The man’s been working all his life to tell you, Mitch, that you’re a child of God, and you still don’t get it! What’s up with that?”
Julia just laughed. She’s used to hearing me argue with the radio.
But even a man or woman of God needs reminding, now and then, of who and whose we are. It’s not just a New Testament thing, it goes back to the beginning, to when God made us, male and female, in God’s own image, God made us as children, created us and declared us good. Behold! It was very good.
And in the time of the prophet Isaiah God spoke to a people who felt something less than human, because they were a defeated and enslaved nation. God said,
This season of the church year which we call “after Epiphany,” or Ordinary Time, it begins and ends with the voice of God. When Jesus was baptized he, and perhaps he alone heard the voice say, you are my son, my beloved. And at the end of this season we will hear that again, when Jesus is on the mountaintop with Peter, James and John, and Moses and Elijah too. The cloud will cover the mountain and the voice from the cloud will boom,
Listen to him and watch and learn. Rabbi Jesus was all about calling people to their true identity. Calling them by name, and sometimes giving them a new name, something to live up to. To Simon the fisherman he said, you are the rock, Peter. There was a woman who was healed on the Sabbath day, a woman who was called “untouchable” by the pious religious leaders, but Jesus reminded them and her of her true name, “daughter of Israel.” And she was redeemed, set free, healed and made whole.
When we are lost, the one who calls us by name can save us.
Those of us who went on the mission trip to Pine Ridge (SD), had the privilege of witnessing a naming ceremony. When the Lakota people were defeated, seven generations ago, their children were taken into religious boarding schools. The children lost their homes and families, and the next thing that they lost was their names. Their Lakota names were taken from them, and they were given names like Mary and Sally and Jack and Will. They were forbidden to speak their old names. As the generations passed, so did the Lakota language.
But now, the people have recovered the power of their name. Lakota people do not chose their own names, but ask a tribal elder to dream a name for them. And the elder considers the person’s past and potential, and gives a Lakota name to live up to-- a name with the power to redeem, to set free.
When we are baptized, we are named. We speak the particular names by which the person who is being baptized will be called: like “Anna Sophia,” or “James Robert,” names given by their parents, to honor their ancestors, or confer a virtue. But we also speak our common name, the name that identifies us as members of the same family, the name which connects us with all the people of the earth: “Child of God.”
This is the name which has the power to remind us who and whose we are, and therefore call us out from darkness into light, from slavery into freedom, from sickness into wholeness. This is the name which reminds us that we are born for blessing, created and declared good. This is the name which calls us to rise up and become master over our addictions, healer of our wounds, and restorers of our own brokenness.
It is also the name that reminds us of our relation to every living thing. It reminds us that the irritating clerk at the store is our sister, that the man writing up a speeding ticket is our brother. When we are tempted to say in anger and frustration, “Just who do you think you are,” we must stop and remember that we know the answer to that question already. You are a child of God. So before we speak or act we must remember that we are bound together, as members of one family. When we live in peace, God rejoices.
We have the opportunity today to remember our baptism, to remember who and whose we are by participating in an affirmation of baptism. If you chose you can come to the font and receive a sprinkling of the water and a reminder of your identity and a call to remember your baptism.
We have the opportunity every day to give to another the same power that comes from remembering and being called by our true name, "child of God." How do we confirm that identity in others? In what ways can we speak and act to convince the self-destructive youth and the withering elder that they are children of God. How do we reach out, and down, and raise a brother up, wake a sister from living death-- like Jesus did? For if we are imitators of Christ, that is what we must do. If we are followers of Jesus, that is the way to go.
May God bless us with insight, and creativity, and courage to follow the light that goes before us. Amen.
Dear God,
Please let Mitch lead a long and interesting life,
So that when we meet in heaven,
We will have lots to talk about.
And he smiled.
But Mitch was uncomfortable, and his old rabbi could see that something was bothering him.
What?
Well, I don’t think we are going to the same place.
Why not?
Because, you’re on a different level, you’re a man of God.
So are you the rabbi said. Everyone is.
I could feel the rabbi’s pain when I heard that story. I said aloud, “The man’s been working all his life to tell you, Mitch, that you’re a child of God, and you still don’t get it! What’s up with that?”
Julia just laughed. She’s used to hearing me argue with the radio.
But even a man or woman of God needs reminding, now and then, of who and whose we are. It’s not just a New Testament thing, it goes back to the beginning, to when God made us, male and female, in God’s own image, God made us as children, created us and declared us good. Behold! It was very good.
And in the time of the prophet Isaiah God spoke to a people who felt something less than human, because they were a defeated and enslaved nation. God said,
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by name, you are mine!”
This season of the church year which we call “after Epiphany,” or Ordinary Time, it begins and ends with the voice of God. When Jesus was baptized he, and perhaps he alone heard the voice say, you are my son, my beloved. And at the end of this season we will hear that again, when Jesus is on the mountaintop with Peter, James and John, and Moses and Elijah too. The cloud will cover the mountain and the voice from the cloud will boom,
“This is my Son, my beloved. Listen to him!”
Listen to him and watch and learn. Rabbi Jesus was all about calling people to their true identity. Calling them by name, and sometimes giving them a new name, something to live up to. To Simon the fisherman he said, you are the rock, Peter. There was a woman who was healed on the Sabbath day, a woman who was called “untouchable” by the pious religious leaders, but Jesus reminded them and her of her true name, “daughter of Israel.” And she was redeemed, set free, healed and made whole.
When we are lost, the one who calls us by name can save us.
Those of us who went on the mission trip to Pine Ridge (SD), had the privilege of witnessing a naming ceremony. When the Lakota people were defeated, seven generations ago, their children were taken into religious boarding schools. The children lost their homes and families, and the next thing that they lost was their names. Their Lakota names were taken from them, and they were given names like Mary and Sally and Jack and Will. They were forbidden to speak their old names. As the generations passed, so did the Lakota language.
But now, the people have recovered the power of their name. Lakota people do not chose their own names, but ask a tribal elder to dream a name for them. And the elder considers the person’s past and potential, and gives a Lakota name to live up to-- a name with the power to redeem, to set free.
When we are baptized, we are named. We speak the particular names by which the person who is being baptized will be called: like “Anna Sophia,” or “James Robert,” names given by their parents, to honor their ancestors, or confer a virtue. But we also speak our common name, the name that identifies us as members of the same family, the name which connects us with all the people of the earth: “Child of God.”
This is the name which has the power to remind us who and whose we are, and therefore call us out from darkness into light, from slavery into freedom, from sickness into wholeness. This is the name which reminds us that we are born for blessing, created and declared good. This is the name which calls us to rise up and become master over our addictions, healer of our wounds, and restorers of our own brokenness.
It is also the name that reminds us of our relation to every living thing. It reminds us that the irritating clerk at the store is our sister, that the man writing up a speeding ticket is our brother. When we are tempted to say in anger and frustration, “Just who do you think you are,” we must stop and remember that we know the answer to that question already. You are a child of God. So before we speak or act we must remember that we are bound together, as members of one family. When we live in peace, God rejoices.
How very good and pleasant it is when brothers and sister live together in unity! (Psalm 133)
We have the opportunity today to remember our baptism, to remember who and whose we are by participating in an affirmation of baptism. If you chose you can come to the font and receive a sprinkling of the water and a reminder of your identity and a call to remember your baptism.
We have the opportunity every day to give to another the same power that comes from remembering and being called by our true name, "child of God." How do we confirm that identity in others? In what ways can we speak and act to convince the self-destructive youth and the withering elder that they are children of God. How do we reach out, and down, and raise a brother up, wake a sister from living death-- like Jesus did? For if we are imitators of Christ, that is what we must do. If we are followers of Jesus, that is the way to go.
May God bless us with insight, and creativity, and courage to follow the light that goes before us. Amen.
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