John's Easter Story. And Yours.

We've reviewed the Easter story in Mark and Matthew (two days ago) and in Luke (yesterday). Today we look at the Easter story in "The Gospel According to John." Mary Magdelene traveled to the tomb with two other women (Mark), with one other woman (Matthew), or with a group of at least four (Luke). In John, she comes alone. And she comes, not when the sun was up (Mark), or at dawn (Matthew, Luke), but in the pre-dawn darkness. As in Mark and Luke, she arrives to find the stone rolled away and the tomb empty. This time there’s no guy in white, or two guys in white, or an angel. Nobody. And no body.

Mary goes back and reports to Simon Peter and another disciple:

“They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him” (20: 2)

Mary and the two disciples go back to the tomb and see nothing but

“the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head . . . rolled up in a place by itself.” (20: 6)

Then Simon Peter and the other disciple leave.

“But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying.” (20: 11-12)

The angels ask, “Why are you weeping?” Mary answers that “They have taken my Lord, I don’t know where.” Then she turns around and sees Jesus, but doesn’t recognize him:

“’Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?’
Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’
Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’
She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’
Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father.”’” (20: 15-17)

Later that evening, Jesus appears to the other disciples:

"Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you.’ . . . He breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” (20: 19-22)

Jesus shows up again a week later where the disciples are gathered:

“Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you,’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” (20: 26-27)

The John story has a surreal, dreamlike quality quite different from the other three. In the surreal logic of John, bodies reanimate, yet wounds remain unhealed. Apparitions say, “Peace be with you.” The ghostly Jesus asks not to be touched, then convinces “doubting Thomas” by letting him touch the wounds. It is a dreamlike realm, unconcerned with persecution from worldly powers.

The resurrection is about you. Mark, Matthew, Luke, and John give four different stories: four metaphors for what each of us encounters. In these metaphors, Mary Magdalene is you. Jesus is also you. Jesus is the part of you that you thought was dead. You mourn its loss. But these stories are here to tell you: it’s not dead.

It’s not dead.

Easter is the time for soul-searching. Go, as Mary, and look. Look to find your self.

What part of you seemingly has died and is laid in a tomb? Go and look.

Are you stuck in a deadening job? Does it seem that the part of you that yearns for creative, rewarding contribution to the world lies dead? Go and look.

Are you stuck in a dysfunctional relationship? The part of you that would dance in celebration of love and connection and intimate play seems like a cold and motionless corpse? Go and look.

What part of you has been persecuted, battered, humiliated? What part of you with its dying words asked, “Why have you forsaken me?” Arise on the morning of a new day, and go and look.

* * * * *
Part 4 of "What's the Meadow For?"
Next: Part 5: "Go and Look"
Previous: Part 3: "Luke Easter Story"
Beginning: Part 1: "Easter Stories"

Luke Easter Story

Today let’s look at “The Gospel According to Luke.” This time it’s a group of women. Luke doesn’t say exactly how many. The group includes Mary Magdalene, the other Mary, Joanna, and the rest of the women who were close followers of Jesus. As in Mark, there is mention of spices and ointments for preparing the body, but they can’t do that until Sunday, after the Sabbath. Also as in Mark, when they get to the tomb, it is already open.

“They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.’” (24: 2-5)

So far, it’s like Mark, only more populated. More women, and two men instead of one in dazzling clothes. The women are terrified, just as in Mark – and there’s no mention of that fear being mixed with joy as in Matthew.

Then the Luke story goes its own way. In Luke the women, perhaps because there are more of them and they are able to borrow courage from each other, rise above their fear. In Mark, they ran away and didn’t tell anybody, but in Luke:

“Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest.” (24: 8-9)

In Mark, the women never tell the disciples. The Matthew and in John, the women tell the disciples and are instantly believed. There is no hint in Matthew or John that the disciples had any doubts about what the women say. But in Luke, we read:

“Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.” (24: 10-12)

Only Peter believes the women. He checks it out himself, but apparently he says nothing to the other ten. The other “men refused to believe the story until two of the men happened to be walking to another village, and suddenly there is Jesus walking along with them, except they don’t recognize him. They get into this long conversation with Jesus, and finally Jesus says, Hey guys, you idiots, it’s me. Finally, the men believe, and they go back and tell the other men, who finally believe what the women have told them.” (Dan Harper)

The Luke story has no sense of the ongoing repression that was so prominent in Mark and was, to a lesser extent, present in Matthew. It was politically dangerous to be a follower of Jesus, but you couldn’t tell that from Luke. What you can tell in Luke, is that the women understood, and the men were slow on the uptake.

* * * * *
Part 3 of "What's the Meadow For?
Next: Part 4: "John's Easter Story. And Yours."
Previous: Part 2: "Mark and Matthew Easter Stories"
Begginning: Part 1: "Easter Stories"

Mark and Matthew Easter Stories

In the story in "The Gospel According to Mark," there are three women:

"May Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome." (16:1a) 

They had

“bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him.” (16:1b)

There is a tone of concern about how they are going to pull this off:

“They had been saying to one another, ‘Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?' When they looked up, they saw that the stone which was very large, had already been rolled back.” (16:3-4)

That’s not good. What are they walking into here? Have the Romans laid a trap to arrest more of the rebel Jesus’ followers?

“As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed.” (16:5)

Is he secret police? Is he a Roman agent?

“But he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here.’” (16:6)

These words do not reassure the three women. They turn and run away from this creepy guy.

“So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” (16:8)

That’s how the Gospel of Mark ends: right there, with three scared women running away. They don’t tell anyone; no one else comes to check out the tomb. End of story. The last three words of the Gospel of Mark are, “they were afraid.”

If you check your Bible, you’ll probably see a dozen additional verses, but if it is a scholarly edition, you’ll also see a note that indicates those extra verses are doubtful. Scholars believe the extra verses were added later. The Gospel of Mark originally ends starkly -- in uncertainty and fear. Maybe the ethical movement founded by Jesus will continue. Yet it’s clear that fear of political repression will be an ongoing reality for that movement.

Now let’s look at the story in "The Gospel According to Matthew." This time it's two women rather than three:

“After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said’ . . . So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples.” (28:1-6, 8)

With fear and great joy. In Mark, the women were simply scared. This time they have a mix of fear and joy. A key point here is that in Matthew, but not in Mark, there are guards. Mary and Mary can see that the guards are scared stiff. If the Roman guards are scared, then this white-clad guy is evidently not, himself, a Roman agent. So the political repression fear that was predominant in Mark is mitigated in Matthew.

Just as the two Marys are leaving the tomb, they encounter Jesus, and he speaks to them briefly:

“Suddenly Jesus met them and said, ‘Greetings!’ And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to then, 'Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me." (28: 9-10)

Some of Jerusalem's rulers catch wind of the news that Jesus' body has gone missing. They concoct a story, which they bribe the guards to affirm, that some of Jesus' followers came in the middle of the night and took the body away. Only in Matthew do we get this strange little story about bribing the guards to say, “His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep” (28:13). Maybe that’s exactly what did happen, and the Matthew storyteller is trying to discredit that by attributing it to the lies of bribed guards. Still, overall, Matthew's is the most straight-down-the-middle Easter story of resurrection. The fundamental optimism is much clearer than in Mark. Yes, there are still some swirling political realities that put Jesus’ followers at risk -- but the basic point is the good news that Jesus did not really die.

Tomorrow: Luke.

* * * * *
Part 2 of "What's the Meadow For?"
Next: Part 3: "Luke Easter Story"
Beginning: Part 1: "Easter Stories"

Easter Stories

Happy Easter. Hallelujah!

He is risen, she is risen, they are risen, and we are risen. OK, everybody up? Excellent. Now what? For the resurrection is yours. What are you going to do with it?

For our Easter reading, let’s look at this fascinating and helpful story – or rather stories.

An insightful and compassionate teacher was put to death. He died on a Friday, too late in the day to bury him. The next day, Saturday, was the Jewish Sabbath. Jesus and all his followers were good, observing Jews, so the body could not be properly prepared and buried on the Sabbath. They had to wait until Sunday for the burial. The body was placed in a temporary tomb – a small cave cut into the side of the hill. The doors were heavy stone circles that ran on a track.

Showing the circular stone on a track.

On Sunday morning Mary Magdelene went by herself (John). Or two women, Mary Magdelene and “the other Mary,” went to the tomb (Matthew). Or three women, Mary Magdelene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went (Mark). Or an indeterminate number of women – at least four -- went to the tomb (Luke).

She, or they, took spices to prepare the body for burial. Mary went in the pre-dawn darkness (John). Or the women went when the day was dawning (Matthew and Luke). Or when the sun had risen (Mark).

When Mary, or the women, got there, they found the stone already rolled back (Mark, Luke, John). Or they arrived just in time to see an angel roll it back (Matthew).

Three women entered the tomb and saw “a young man dressed in a white robe” (Mark). Or a group of four or more women saw “two men in dazzling robes” (Luke). Or two women saw an angel and some guards (Matthew). Or Mary Magdalene, alone, saw no one at all until after she returned from the tomb, told two of the disciples that the body was missing, all three of them returned again to the tomb, still saw nothing but linen wrappings, and the disciples left Mary alone crying. Then she looked into the tomb and saw "two angels in white" (John).

However we tell it, the tomb was empty.

What had been taken for dead, wasn’t.

And a whole new world of possibility was suddenly open.

* * * * *
Part 1 of "What's the Meadow For?"
Next: Part 2: "Mark and Matthew Easter Stories"

Saturdao 14

Dao De Jing, verse 9

16 translations

1. James Legge:

It is better to leave a vessel unfilled, than to attempt to carry it when it is full.
If you keep feeling a point that has been sharpened, the point cannot long preserve its sharpness.
When gold and jade fill the hall, their possessor cannot keep them safe.
When wealth and honours lead to arrogancy, this brings its evil on itself.
When the work is done, and one's name is becoming distinguished,
to withdraw into obscurity is the way of Heaven.

2. Archie Bahm:

Going to extremes is never best.
For if you make a blade too sharp, it will become dull too quickly.
And if you hoard all the wealth, you are bound to be attacked.
If you become proud and arrogant regarding your good fortune, you will naturally beget enemies who jealously despise you.
The way to success is this: having achieved your goal, be satisfied not to go further.
For this is the way Nature operates.

3. Frank MacHovec:

There is a danger in extremes: pull a bowstring too far and you wish you had let go before; hone a sword-edge too sharp and the edge will wear too soon; fill your house with gold and jade and you invite thieves; be proud and arrogant over good fortune and you prepare for your own downfall. When you have reached your goal, be satisfied to go no further. This is the way of Tao.

4. D.C. Lau

Rather than fill it to the brim by keeping it upright
Better to have stopped in time;
Hammer it to a point
And the sharpness cannot be preserved for ever;
There may be gold and jade to fill a hall
But there is none who can keep them.
To be overbearing when one has wealth and position
Is to bring calamity upon oneself.
To retire when the task is accomplished
Is the way of heaven.

5. Gia-Fu Feng:

Better stop short than fill to the brim.
Oversharpen the blade, and the edge will soon blunt.
Amass a store of gold and jade, and no one can protect it.
Claim wealth and titles, and disaster will follow.
Retire when the work is done.
This is the way of heaven.

6. Stan Rosenthal:

“Without Extremes”
The cup is easier to hold when not filled to overflowing.
The blade is more effective if not tempered beyond its mettle.
Gold and jade are easier to protect if possessed in moderation.
He who seeks titles, invites his own downfall.
The sage works quietly, seeking neither praise nor fame;
completing what he does with natural ease, and then retiring.
This is the way and nature of Tao.

7. Jacob Trapp:

“Moderation, Self-Control”
Overstretch the bow,
And you lose control of the arrow’s flight.
Grind the blade too sharp,
And the cutting edge will curl.
No lock will hold for him who fills
His house with gold and jade.
No fence will keep him from a fall
Who walks the brink of pride.
To know where enough becomes too much,
This indeed is to know one’s way.
Controlled aim, modesty, moderateness,
The Tao of Heaven will bless.

8. Stephen Mitchell:

Fill your bowl to the brim
and it will spill.
Keep sharpening your knife
and it will blunt.
Chase after money and security
and your heart will never unclench.
Care about people’s approval
and you will be their prisoner.
Do your work, then step back.
The only path to serenity.

9. Victor Mair

Instead of keeping a bow taut while holding it straight, better to relax.
You may temper a sword until it is razor sharp, but you cannot preserve the edge for long.
When gold and jade fill your rooms, no one will be able to guard them for you.
If wealth and honor make you haughty, you bequeath misfortune upon yourself.
To withdraw when your work is finished, that is the Way of heaven.

10. Michael LaFargue:

In filling, if you keep on and on –
better to have stopped.
In sharpening, if you keep trying –
the edge won’t last long.
When gold and jade fill the halls,
no one can guard it all.
Rich, famous – and conceited:
leading to a downfall self-caused.
Achieve successes,
win the fame,
remove yourself:
Heaven’s way.

11. Peter Merel:

“Retire”
Fill a cup to its brim and it is easily spilled;
Temper a sword to its hardest and it is easily broken;
Amass the greatest treasure and it is easily stolen;
Claim credit and honour and you easily fall;
Retire once your purpose is achieved - this is natural.

12. Ursula LeGuin:

“Being quiet”
Brim-fill the bowl,
it’ll spill over.
Keep sharpening the blade,
you’ll soon blunt it.
Nobody can protect
a house full of gold and jade.
Wealth, status, pride,
are their own ruin.
To do good, work well, and lie low
is the way of the blessing.

13. Ron Hogan:

If you drink too much, you get drunk.
The engine won't start
if you're always tinkering with it.
If you hoard wealth,
you fall into its clutches.
If you crave success,
you succumb to failure.
Do what you have to do,
then walk away.
Anything else will drive you nuts.

14. Ames and Hall:

It is better to desist
Than to try to hold it upright and fill it to the brim.
Pounded out to a point
Its sharpness cannot be long maintained.
When treasure fills the hall,
No one is able to keep it safe.
Those who are arrogant because of station and wealth
Bring calamity upon themselves.
To retire when the deed is done
Is the way (dao) that tian works.

15. Yasuhiko Genku Kimura:

To fill to the brim is to be out of balance,
Wherefore it is better to stop before overfilling.
To over-sharpen a sword is to be out of balance,
Wherefore its edge will not last long.
To line a hall with gold and jade is to be out of balance,
Wherefore no one can guard them.
If wealth and rank make a man haughty and clinging,
He will surely bequeath misfortune upon himself.
If success is achieved and honor bestowed,
Quietly withdraw from your position.
This is the way of heaven.

16. Addiss and Lombardo

Hold and fill it –
Not as good as stopping in time.
Measure and pound it –
It will not long survive.
When gold and jade fill the hall,
They cannot be guarded.
Riches and pride
Bequeath error.
Withdrawing when work is done:
Heaven’s Tao.

 * * * * *
"Within the human world as in nature, taking any endeavor to its extreme will result in a reversal of this direction and a selfinduced subversion of the enterprise. What goes up must come down." (Ames and Hall comment).

See: Saturdao Index

How to Become Generous

Suppose you were taking a survey, and came across this question:

It’s the bottom of the ninth inning of game seven of the World Series. You are at bat, and a fastball is headed for the plate. What would be the best thing to do?
A. Hit the ball over the centerfield wall for the winning home run.
B. Swing and miss.
C. Pop the ball up to the shortstop.
D. Stroll into the stands and buy some peanuts.

It’s easy to say “A.” To actually do it will depend on habit-skills developed by practicing. And practicing. And practicing.

Or:

You’re standing on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera dressed as Aida. The orchestra is playing the intro music. What’s the best thing to do? Belt out a stunning aria that brings the house down, or stroll into the audience and buy some peanuts?

Or:

A little boy is running toward you crying, blood running down his shin from a scraped knee, and he’s calling you Mom. You recognize that he is not in error about you being his Mom. What’s the best thing to do? Pick him up, speak soothing words, sing his favorite song as you move toward a sink and a cloth to wash the knee – or look around for where you can get some peanuts?

No one can be a good hitter, singer, or Mom without practice – without developing the habit-skills. We can all pick out the best answer on paper -- but we can’t execute unless we’ve practiced. A lot.

Some of that practice can be purely mental – even for skills that seem largely physical. When researchers asked people sit still and focus on imagining themselves throwing a basketball throw a hoop from the foul line, those people’s free-throw shooting percentage improved as much as the people who spent the same amount of time practicing actual free-throw shooting. Mental practice really counts.

The thing is, in life, I often don’t get the chance to do specific practice, mentally or physically. I have to rely on general habits to guide me in specific situations. I can’t imagine beforehand the specific situations I’m going to find myself in. So what I need to do is cultivate a general generosity of spirit – a general generosity that will carry over into unforeseeable specific situations.

I don’t know what practices that woman on the subway used to develop the habits of the generosity of spirit she so obviously had. Most of us have a rather different habit: hold on to your stuff. When we were children, we got scolded for losing things or leaving them unguarded where they could get stolen. The message: hold on to your stuff. Don’t lose it. Keep up with it. Guard it. That certainly became a very ingrained habit-skill for many of us. So when there’s one glove in your hand, and the other glove on the seat of the train, the habit of holding on to your stuff will take a few seconds to unpack – and by that time it’s too late. The doors are closed.

Develop your generosity muscles by exercising them, by performing generous acts. Also, for some really helpful "cross-training," include gratitude practice. Generosity and gratitude are mutually supportive. My guess is that the woman on the subway had a deep sense of thanksgiving for life and experience. When gratitude pervades life, it loosens the impulse to cling and facilitates generosity -- which, in turn, facilitates greater gratitude.

To develop the habit-skill of thankfulness, simply to take a moment each day to name five things you’re thankful for. For example, here at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Gainesville, I’m am so grateful for the commitment of our leaders, the imagination and vision that motivates this place, the wonderful staff I have to work with, all the Unitarian and Universalist forebears through the centuries that created what I could never have invented, and the Gainesville founders in the fifties and sixties who laid the groundwork for this fellowship – the groundwork upon which we now stand.

Those are some things for which I’m grateful. You?

* * *
Part 4 of 4 of "Celebrate!"
Previous: Part 3: "The Thing to Do With One Glove"
Beginning: Part 1: "Unitarian Universalism: Welcome Home"

The Thing to Do With One Glove

Service is rewarding and meaningful. Providing opportunities for life-enriching service is a key part of this faith community I love. Weeks occasionally come where you might spend 20, 30, 40 hours on a project of this Fellowship. And you do it gladly, joyfully. You go home at the end of long days of Fellowship work and collapse on the bed with a smile on your face. That generosity with our time and energy feels good. As long as such days and such weeks don't come too often.

Some of our volunteer work isn’t so concentrated -- it might be extensive rather than intensive. Serving as our president, for example, might mean 10 hours a week average -- every week for two years. That can be tremendously fulfilling, and I feel good about our Fellowship being a place that offers an opportunity for meaningful service at that level.

I don't feel good about putting our wonderful volunteers in positions that oblige them work beyond those levels that are fulfilling, wholesome, rewarding, and joyous. Our Fellowship is about transformation through service, about spiritual deepening through learning together, worshiping together, engaging in spiritual practice, and serving. We need our Fellowship to be NOT about burn-out. I am concerned that some of our volunteers, bless their beloved and loving hearts, are pushed beyond "transformative service" into "working too hard."

So dream with me. Expanded staff means expanded programs. Our wonderful sexuality education program, called OWL, for Our Whole Lives, could be offered continuously – Gainesville needs some place offering that to the whole community, and we’re the only place that can. We could add a religious education assistant, more music assistants, a sexton. "If we were a wealthy church."

These are extrinsic benefits of your generosity. Generosity is much more that. It is a central spiritual practice for blessing your own life. Let me illustrate. Here's a story I heard a few years ago that impressed the heck out of me:

A woman was getting off the subway in Washington, DC. on a cold winter’s day. She was clutching one glove and fishing around in her coat pocket for the other one as she walks. It wasn't in her coat pocket. She was several steps onto the platform when she spun around to look back into the train car. She clearly saw her other glove sitting on the seat that she just left. The doors started to close. There was no way to get back in time. So she took the glove she had and flung it back into the train – just as the doors closed.

Such a logical thing to do. Let somebody have a full pair. Would you have done that? Me, I’m in awe of that capacity – that spontaneous generosity of spirit.

I have the thought to do that. I have the values, I endorse the principles, to have thrown that glove back on the train. If I were taking a multiple-choice survey, and I came to the question, "What would be the best thing to do in that situation? A., curse the bad luck and continue on your way with your one glove; B, march immediately to the information booth report the lost item and inquire whether subway officials might look for it and hold it for you; C, shout desperately for someone on the train to throw the glove back out to you; or D, throw your glove into the train;" I would answer D. Seeing it on paper, that’s pretty clearly the way to go.

So why do I doubt I’d have been able to actually do it?

In the bustle of the moment, so much going on, thinking about getting to where I’m going, I would have to rely on my habits rather than the sort of considered judgment I could use in calm setting of a paper and pencil test. Most of our lives are run by our habits, not by decisions we make in a calm, removed setting in answer to questions about hypothetical situations. So if you want to be generous, if you want to live out a spirit of open and loving generosity, the habit of generosity must be carefully developed and nurtured through long practice.

* * * * *
Part 3 of "Celebrate!"
Next: Part 4: "How to Become Generous"
Previous: Part 2: "If We Were a Rich Church"
Beginning: Part 1: "Unitarian Universalism: Welcome Home"

If We Were a Rich Church

I do love being a Unitarian Universalist. I own the label "Unitarian Universalist," so that I can help the world know that there is such a place, and know what I’m all about. As my colleague, Rev. Kimi Riegel, put it:

“I love being a Unitarian Universalist and I'm not going to be quiet or shy about it any more. As a kid I was a shy Unitarian Universalist. I guess I figured since we weren't as big as the Presbyterian Church down the street we weren't as good. I didn't tell my friends about our wonderful church, its exciting heritage or the challenge it offers each of us. But I’ve come to believe this is the faith of the future, as well as the past, and it’s O.K. to be proud. It is exciting to be a Unitarian Universalist.”

I love being a Unitarian Universalist, not because we can believe anything we want. Spiritual deepening isn’t about what you want. It’s about discovering what you are called to – a calling which you can hear only if you quiet down the ego’s cacophony of what it wants. It’s not about what ego wants to believe. It’s about what you find within yourself that you have to believe. I love being a Unitarian Universalist because whatever it is that you find you have to believe, that will be respected and honored here.

On the other side of the coin, I love being a Unitarian Universalist because I am called to relationships of accountability. That discernment of what our spirits call us to believe and do cannot be a solitary task. We cannot go it alone.

We need each other because we humans have such an amazing capacity to fool ourselves. We need others to check in with, to ask us questions, to hold the mirror up so we can see ourselves. We need relationships of accountability -- and we need those relationships to exist within a context of respect for diversity. That’s why I love being a Unitarian Universalist – so much that if it didn’t exist we would have to invent it.

I love being a part of all that we do – our dangerous bastion, and our groups that bring people together to explore and grow, our worship and music, our work together for peace and justice.

This fellowship is not a rich church. We may be rich in tradition, rich in talents, rich in people, rich in wisdom and experience. Our budget, however, is modest.

Personally, I don’t hanker to be any wealthier than I am. But I when it comes to our fellowship, I do find myself resonating with Tevye – the poor milkman in “Fiddler on the Roof”: "What would have been so terrible if we had a small fortune?"

Sing along! Substitute the words below.
(Play first 1:35, then skip to the 3:50 point.)
(

If we were a rich church, UU,UU,UU, UU,UU,UU,UU,U
I would be a happy one indeed, if we were a wealthy church.
Wouldn't have to worry, UU,UU,UU, UU,UU,UU,UU,U
If we were a biddy, biddy rich, UU,UU,UU,UU church

We’d build a great big new social hall, and expand all the classrooms for our kids.
No one would say we don’t have room to meet.
There would be much more staff for Lifespan Development
Offering classes every day
Meeting the needs of families and kids.

We’d give the first 10 percent of all that we had to support social justice in the world.
Think of all the homeless we could feed.
There would be funds galore to fix up the building, and add on if we should grow
And money left to host our own TV show.

If we were a rich church, UU,UU,UU, UU,UU,UU,UU,U
We could better fill the member’s needs, If we were a wealthy church.
Wouldn't have to worry, UU,UU,UU,UU,UU,UU,UU,U
All the world would start to turn around
if we had a wealthier stance in town,
We would spread love all over this earth
If we were a wealthy church!

(Thanks much to Sheri DiGiovanna, whose UU lyrics I modified for this version.)

* * * * *
Part 2 of "Celebrate!"
Next: Part 3: "The Thing to Do with One Glove"
Beginning: Part 1: "Unitarian Universalism: Welcome Home!"

Unitarian Universalism: Welcome Home!

I just love being a Unitarian Universalist. I love what we are and what we do, so I want to let the world know that what it's getting with me is a Unitarian Universalist. We are a community of faith to grow our spirits amidst our religious diversity. As one of our postcards puts it: "imagine a place where people of different beliefs worship together as one faith."

Community

There are a lot of ways to find community in today’s world. People have Facebook, and volleyball leagues, and going out for a drink after work, mother’s groups. There are 12-step groups, and 12-step groups for people who are family or friends of people who should be in 12-step groups. In Gainesville, there’s the Civic Media Center, and Vets for peace, and the League of Women Voters. If none of that works for you, you can google “civic and social clubs, Gainesville, Florida” and find lots of options there. Those communities, however, are not communities of faith.

Community of Faith

If what you hunger for is a deepening of your spirit;
if you long to be fully charged with the charge of the spirit;
if you long for a refuge from the constant barrage of consumerist, materialist messages, somewhere where your soul can catch its breath long enough to remember that winning by being the one who dies with the most toys is not, after all, the point of this life;
if you need a place that will call you to deep connection, will call you to the work of awakening to the reality of love, that will teach the spiritual virtues -- peace, love, hope, joy, compassion, a fire for justice, the courage to open ourselves to the unknown --
then you need not just a community but a community of faith.

I don’t believe that faith means believing weird, unprovable things. Faith means opening our hearts to the unknown. Ultimately, it’s all unknown. Faith is the courage to be willing to be transformed.

For some people, believing certain unprovable claims is their strategy for opening their hearts to new realms, opening their hearts to transformation – but let us not confuse one strategy of faith with faith itself. Faith means openness to what you don’t control, and the thirst for connection with a wider reality and a wider truth than the daily routine of producing and consuming.

If you need not just a community, but a community of faith, you still have lots of options. In Gainesville, like most US cities, every three or four blocks there’s a church or a synagogue or temple or mosque of faith center of some kind.

Community of Faith and Diversity

If, however, what your spirit hankers for is a community of faith to grow your spirit amidst religious diversity;
if you want a place where people of different beliefs worship together as one faith, a place where Christians and pagans, theists and atheists, humanists and naturalists, Jews and Muslims, Buddhists and Hindus, join together to share and grow the faith that life is good, that justice is attainable, that peace, inner and outer, is worth pursuing, and that joy is one another’s faces;
if you need a place to do the work of learning how to be the deeply caring, calmly loving person that you want to be, a place where you can be helped in that work by people whose preferred metaphors for alluding to that which is beyond words are highly varying -–
well, welcome home.

Welcome home! That’s what we are, and I love being a part of this. I love this chance to celebrate this wonderful community of faith and diversity.

* * * * *
Part 1 of "Celebrate!"
Next: Part 2: "If We Were a Rich Church!"

Love Them Into Transformation

My self-defense, my protective reactions, work hard to protect me. It's just that they aren’t always very skilled at it. They’re rather like a typical child writing her first poem.

When your child shares with a poem she's written, you don't say, "The metaphors are mixed; it's full of cliches; some of the rhymes are off; and on line 7 I think you mean 'hermeneutic' instead of 'hermetic'." No, you don't say that. You say, “That’s wonderful.” You’re interested. You talk about the feelings expressed. If the child would like, you put it on the refrigerator. You take a few moments to beam proudly at the poem and at your child. And then you move on. You don’t get carried away and start calling up publishers to insist that your child's work be included in their next anthology.

My inner protector is like that child. It needs my love and attention. It doesn’t need me to get all carried away and devote my life to its glorification.

Is my protector flaring up to protect me when I’m not really in danger? Am I encountering a situation that triggers my protective mechanisms, when, in fact, I am encountering something or someone completely unarmed? I try to look more carefully at my triggers. Maybe that thing that’s scaring me is actually just a bag of skittles. I try to honor the protective mechanism, show it compassion, thank it for trying so hard to protect me, and ask it to trust me: to trust either that there’s nothing here that will hurt me, or to trust that the risk of harm is a risk worth taking for the sake of greater connection and compassion.

Yes, we live in a country, and in a state, that demonizes the darker skinned: Hispanics and African Americans. We don’t conquer the demonizer by rejecting it – scourging and excoriating -- but by looking with compassion at where it’s coming from. My guess is that it’s coming from insecurity. From fear. And if that’s what it is, I can understand that. I, too, have insecurities and fears.

Let us wear hoodies and stand and rally in solidarity with Trayvon’s family. At the same time, let us understand that our society will make no progress unless the insecurity is reassured. There are a lot of people out there who, in the right circumstances – or, I should say, in the wrong circumstances -- are prepared to do what George Zimmerman did. There’s a larger question. Demanding that fear and insecurity be arrested and locked up won’t make it go away. The larger question is how to love. How do we love so fiercely, so deeply, so courageously that we love even fear, that we love even hate -- and we love them into transformation?

We do now need to stand in solidarity with groups that are threatened because they are perceived as threatening. That’s what the hoodie is about. It’s a call for solidarity. We need to make that stand. And: we need to look at the larger question of this insecurity in our land.

It’s a legitimate thing to want to protect our homes. It’s also a legitmate thing for members of minority groups to want to be able to stroll safely through any neighborhood they may happen to be legitimately visiting while wearing a hoodie and carrying skittles and iced tea.

Our call is to a path of healing and wholeness that recognizes and honors all the voices in our hearts and all the voices in our society.

Our call is to love -- and stand on the side of love -- and recognize and honor all the colors: the colors of fear, of revulsion, of defense and protection; the colors of affection, of bold risk-taking for the hope of connection, of calling ourselves and others to accountability; the colors of tribal identity as well as the colors of delight in diversity.

Our call is to love -- and stand on the side of love -- and recognize and honor all the diverse voices and colors within us and all the people and colors around us. All the colors.

"De Colores"

All the colors, yes, the colors we see in the springtime with all of the flowers.
All the colors, when the sunlight shines out through a rift in the cloud and it showers.
Al the colors, as a rainbow appears when a storm cloud is touched by the sun.
All the colors abound for the whole world around and for everyone under the sun.

All the colors, yes, the black and the white and the red and the brown and the yellow.
All the colors, all the colors of people who smile and shake hands and say, "Hello!"
All the colors, yes, the colors of people who know that their freedom is won.
All the colors abound for the whole world around and for everyone under the sun.

* * * * *
Part 5 of "Evil."
Previous: Part 4, "Baptists, Bootleggers, and Self-Defense"
Beginning: Part 1: "Tragedy, Spring. Fractals."

Baptists, Bootleggers, and Self-Defense

When we approach our parts, our inner voices, in a spirit of humility and a friendly desire to understand them, we begin to understand why they cause the trouble that they do, and we can regard them with compassion.

So often, however, we don't approach our parts with that humble and friendly curiosity. Instead, we demonize them -- we call them our demons. (I referred to our parts as demons myself in the previous post. It's nice to "embrace your demons;" nicer still to see that they aren't really demons at all.) Then we call upon one "demon" to fight another. This makes both personae more demonic. Before long, a kind of internal corruption sets in. You called in one goon squad to fight another, and the two can end up going into cahoots with each other.

For example, the way that bootleggers and the evangelicals have worked together while apparently being opposed has become so well known that a model of politics has come to be named the “Baptists and bootleggers” model. In the paradigm case, preachers demand prohibition on alcohol sales in their county, while criminal bootleggers also work to keep alcohol sales illegal -- so that they can maintain their illegal business. The bootleggers help the preachers by ensuring that alcohol continues to be available – which means the preachers will always be able to pack their pews with periodic rousing denunciations of demon liquor. The preachers help the bootleggers by preventing competition from alcohol retailers. Sometimes the bootleggers themselves are devoted tithing members of the church, supporting the wonderful work the church does in ensuring the bootlegger’s income.

That kind of corruption can happen at the social level, and like a fractal pattern, can recapitulate within our hearts, as our inner parts put on a big show of fighting each other while actually they depend upon each other.

“Choose your enemies carefully,” the saying goes, “for you will become like them.” Alternatively: befriend them instead, and they lose their power over you.

Which brings us back to the Trayvon Martin case. George Zimmerman was concerned about crime. He spent time going door to door in his neighborhood urging his neighbors to be on the lookout for “young black men who appear to be outsiders.” The community reportedly did have a number of burglaries, thefts, and one shooting during the previous year. Zimmerman himself had called the police 46 times in the 14 months before his encounter with Trayvon Martin. In his battle with the forces that he saw as threatening, he became a perpetrator of the very thing he feared and hated. In the Sanford police department we may be seeing the same dynamic recapitulated on a larger scale.

Zimmerman claims he was acting in self-defense. Whether or not his action meets the legal criteria for self-defense, there was some kind of defensiveness at work. Remembering that whatever evil we see out there is also in here, in each of our own hearts, the question for each of us is: "What do I do in self-defense?" The things we do out of a felt need to protect ourselves often lead to harm, to ourselves and to others. When I get self-defensive, I know I shut down the possibilities for connection and love in the moment.

I’m not saying, never take protective action. I’m saying watch the protective habits, the protective impulse and urge. Just watch them, with compassion for them as they try to do their job of protecting you.

* * * * *
Part 4 of "Evil."
Next: Part 5: "Love Them Into Transformation"
Previous: Part 3: "Breaking Old Ground"
Begginning: Part 1: "Tragedy. Spring. Fractals."

Breaking Old Ground

Psychologist Richard Schwartz says:

“As clients embody more Self, their inner dialogues change spontaneously. They stop berating themselves and instead, get to know, rather than try to eliminate, the extreme inner voices or emotions that have plagued them. At those times they tell me, they feel ‘lighter,’ their minds feel somehow more ‘open’ and ‘free.’ Even clients who've shown little insight into their problems are suddenly able to trace the trajectory of their own feelings and emotional histories with startling clarity and understanding.”

The basic point here is an ancient one that, today, is popping up in a number of places. I like Richard Schwartz’s work not because he breaks new ground, but because he brings a clarity and vividness to very old ground. The basic teaching is one that Lake Chalice readers have been hearing from me -- and very likely other sources -- for years. My own personal work has been to understand this basic and ancient teaching better and better and to take it more and more deeply to heart.

Religious traditions have taught this point for millennia. Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, Judaism, Islam, all teach – or have strands within them that teach – that we are sparks of the eternal flame, manifestations of the absolute ground of being. Christians call it the soul or "Christ Consciousness." Buddhists call it "Buddha Nature," Hindus "Atman," Taoists "Tao," Sufis "the Beloved," Quakers "the Inner Light." Once we step back from the part of us in conflict with another part of us, we have access to compassion for all our parts. We have access to who we really are. Rumi, in the 13th century, was making this point when he said that being human is guest house, so whoever comes – joy, sadness, dark thoughts – meet them at the door and invite them in. (click here)

I’ve often quoted Philip Simmons from a UUWorld article of about 10 years ago:

"There’s nothing our demons enjoy more than a good fight – nothing that confuses them more than our embrace." 

It’s not the demon that is the evil. Evil – or neurosis, or dysfunction, or depression, or unhappiness -- is what manifests when we try to push down or ignore or banish a part of us. We cannot become centered in the deep ground of our being by trying to flatten, suppress, deny, or destroy the feelings we don't like in ourselves or others. With humility, and awe, and gratitude, we can become centered in our selves by welcoming our parts.

Certain parts of ourselves aren’t easy to be welcoming toward: hatred, rage, despair, fear, addictive needs (for drugs, food, sex), racism and other prejudice, greed. Nor are we proud of such parts of ourselves as ennui, guilt, depression, anxiety, self-righteousness, and self-loathing. We must learn to listen to and ultimately embrace all these parts if we are to move ourselves toward healing and wholeness. If we can do that instead than trying to exile them, then they transform. This is where psychology and faith meet, because we don't know how they'll transform, and we don't know when -- our parts make their own schedules. Faith  is our ability love and trust. Love your parts, trusting that your love will allow them to transform.

Every time we try to fight against a part of ourselves, we do so by generating or calling upon another part of ourselves. Diane called upon the Pusher to fight against the Pessimist. Or we call upon the Hate Hater to fight against the Hater. Now we have two personae that are giving us problems.

Treating our parts as if they had a life of their own -- as if they were, in effect, real personalities in themselves with a point of view and a reason for acting as they do -- helps us be present to them with compassion. When we approach them in a spirit of humility and a friendly desire to understand them, we begin to understand why they cause the trouble that they do. And we’re able to reassure them that the purpose they serve will be met.

* * * * *
Part 3 of "Evil"
Next: Part 4: "Baptists, Bootleggers, and Self-Defense"
Previous: Part 2: "Know Thyself. Know Thyselves"
Beginning: Part 1: "Tragedy. Spring. Fractals."

Know Thyself. Know Thyselves.

"Know thyself," said Socrates. And to know it is to love it. Much that we might want to call evil comes from failure of compassion for all the parts of the self -- which, fractal-like, recapitulates as failure of compassion for all the parts of family, tribe, society.

Psychologist Richard Schwartz describes how he began to work with clients through their peronae.

“I had one client, Diane, ask the pessimistic voice she was describing why it always told her she was hopeless. The voice responded that it said she was hopeless so that she wouldn't take any risks and get hurt; it was trying to protect her. This seemed like a promising interaction. If this pessimist really had benign intent, then Diane might be able to negotiate a different role for it. But Diane wasn't interested in negotiating. She was angry at this voice and kept telling it to just leave her alone. I asked her why she was so rude to the pessimist and she went on a long diatribe, describing how that voice had made every step she took in life a major hurdle. It then occurred to me that I wasn't talking to Diane, but to another part of her – [a part she had spoken of before] that pushed her to achieve and that constantly fought with the pessimist who told her it was hopeless. [Her Pusher was mad at, and fighting with her Pessimist, and at that moment, I was talking to the Pusher.] I asked Diane to focus on the [pushing] voice, and ask it to stop interfering in her negotiations with the pessimist. To my amazement, [the Pusher] agreed to 'step back,' and Diane immediately shifted out of the anger she'd felt so strongly seconds before. When I asked Diane how she felt toward the pessimist now, it seemed like a different person answered. In a calm, caring voice, she said she was grateful to it for trying to protect her, and felt sorry that it had to work so hard. Her face and posture had also changed, reflecting the soft compassion in her voice. From that point on, negotiations with the inner pessimist were easy.”

In another case, Dr. Schwartz is working with Margie, an anorexic. He asks one persona to “step back” to allow attending to another persona. He asks “Margie where she finds that voice of anorexia in her body and how she feels toward it. She closes her eyes and says it's in her stomach, and she's angry at it. She says that it tells her that it's going to kill her and that there's nothing she can do about it. . . . "

Dr. Schwartz says, "It makes sense that you're angry with the eating disorder part, because its avowed purpose is to screw up your life or even kill you. But right now, we just want to get to know it a little better, and it's hard to do that when you're so angry with it. We're not going to give it more power by doing that – just get to know more about why it wants to kill you. So see if the part of you that's so angry with it is willing to trust you and me for a few minutes. See if it's willing to relax to maybe watch as we try to get to know the eating disorder part."

Margie says okay. Schwartz asks how she feels toward the eating disorder now. Margie she says she's tired of battling with it. Schwartz asks that part to relax and step back too, and then another part that was very confused by the disorder. Each time, Schwartz asks "how do you feel toward the eating disorder now?"

Finally, Margie says in a compassionate voice, "Like, I want to help it." (Richard Schwartz, "The Larger Self" -- click here.)

As we become able to attend to, to hear, to be with a persona, then we're better able to stop being that persona – and we also stop being any persona that needed to fight that persona. What we step into when we step back is the true self.

* * * * *
Part 2 of "Evil"
Next: Part 3: "Breaking Old Ground"
Previous: Part 1: "Tragedy. Spring. Fractals."

Tragedy. Spring. Fractals.

Trayvon Martin died on Sunday Feburary 26, four weeks ago yesterday. He had just turned 17 years-old. Trayvon’s parents divorced when he was four. Known as “Tray” or “Slimm” (he was 6-foot-3 and about 140 pounds), he lived with his mother and older brother in Miami. He was a junior in high school, where his English teacher said he was “an A and B student who majored in cheerfulness.” He wanted to be an aviation mechanic.

Four weeks ago, he was visiting his father and his father’s girlfriend in a gated community in Sanford, Florida: southeast of Gainesville, about 100 miles, as the crow flies. Tray was watching basketball on TV. During a break, he went out to walk to a nearby convenience store for a snack. He was talking on his cell phone headset to his girlfriend. He was returning to the house, when he was seen by George Zimmerman.

Zimmerman called 911 and said, “This guy looks like he’s up to no good.” The dispatcher recommended that Zimmerman not take any action, and informed him that police were on the way. Zimmerman reported that Martin was headed toward the back entrance. He said, "They always get away," and then muttered what sounds like a vicious racist slur. It’s under his breath, so it’s not perfectly clear, but I’ve listened to the recordings, and that's what it sounds like to me.

Dispatcher: “Are you following him?”
Zimmerman: “Yeah.”
Dispatcher: “OK, we don’t need you to do that.”

The dispatcher reiterated that police were on the way.

While Zimmerman was on his cell phone, Trayvon was on his, talking with his girlfriend, and expressing concern about a "strange man" following him. She advised him to run. She has reported that she heard Martin say "What are you following me for?" followed by a man's voice responding "What are you doing here?" She heard the sound of pushing; Martin's headset suddenly went silent. She immediately tried to call him back, but was unable to reach him. Shortly afterward, a number of other 911 calls were reporting a shooting, and Trayvon Martin was dead.

It’s taken a few weeks for the case to grow in public awareness because it took awhile for the 911 recordings to be released, and as day after day passed with George Zimmerman not being arrested, public outcry began to grow.

The Lake Chalice topic this week week is "Evil." And as our hearts reflect on the tragedy that killed Trayvon Martin, it’s an easy thing to invoke a concept of evil. It’s easy to see George Zimmerman as evil, to see the Sanford Police Department as evil. Too easy.

At the same time, spring has officially come. I mention this because there's a lesson for us in the beauty of the spring flowers. Springtime illustrates that goodness and beauty are manifest where no color is left out, no part of the raucous parliament of sensations is excluded. Evil is the suppression of voices -- the suppression of color -- and beauty is inclusion of all colors, all voices.

The tragic death of Trayvon Martin may bring us to anger. It may bring us indignation and a yearning for justice. Well and good. I just want to ask us to notice one thing: that whatever is out there that we don’t like is also in here -- in our hearts.

There’s a metaphor here from the field of mathematics: fractals. Fractal patterns were big a few years ago. As you zoom in, or zoom out, on a fractal pattern, you find that smaller scales or larger scales recapitulate the original pattern. Just as society is made up of many different people, every person is made up of many different inner personae.

Sometimes the families in a tribe don’t relate to each other harmoniously.

Sometimes the members of a family don’t relate to each other harmoniously.

Sometimes the inner personae within an individual don’t relate to each other harmoniously.

Like fractals: the pattern at one level of magnification is found again at the other levels. In society, in our families, in our hearts: the tensions and dynamics we find in any of these are recapitulated in the other two.

I've mentioned a terrible tragedy, the arrival of spring, and fractals. Which feels like the right sort of beginning. To understand evil we must sometimes be head-on, and sometimes look far afield for our clues.

* * * * *
Part 1 of "Evil."
Next: Part 2: "Know Thyself. Know Thyselves."

Spiritual Activists: Thich Nhat Hanh

This story is about another monk – not a Catholic monk, but a Buddhist monk, born in Vietnam. His name is Thich Nhat Hanh – he’s also called Thay. He’s 85-years-old now and lives in France.

Thay and Thomas Merton met each other once – 45 years ago when Thay was visiting in Kentucky. They discovered kindred spirits in each other.

It helps to have a tradition of practices and writing to help the heart open up to the true self. It can be a Buddhist tradition, or a Catholic tradition, or some other one.

Thay became a Zen Buddhist monk when he was only 16. When there was a war in his country, Thay tried bravely to stop the fighting. Instead the government made him leave the country, the homeland he loved.

He and his friends bought an old farm in France, which they named Plum Village. They fixed up the buildings and planted gardens and plum trees. Many people – from Vietnam and elsewhere came to Plum Village to live and work – or to visit for awhile -- and practice and learn to be mindful – to love each other and not be violent.

At Plum Village, they spend a lot of time praying, meditating, and practicing mindfulness -- which means being aware of what we are doing and concentrate on enjoying it before we do something else. Pay attention to what is around you without worrying about the past or the future.

When you take a little time to sit quietly – maybe sit outside and just watch the grass and the clouds and the birds – it can make you feel calmer and nicer. And we can use that feeling to make the world a better place to live. When we are mindful, we are peaceful, and when we are peaceful, it helps other people be peaceful, too.

Breathing in, you feel calm.
You are fresh as a flower.
Breathing out, you are not going to get angry.
You are solid as a mountain.

Thay says, “Make good use of the flower and the mountain in you and you will not be affected by what other people say and what they do to you. You will be able to help so many people.”

Thay was just a boy when he first began his training to understand how what we might think we want isn’t always what our heart really wants. When we don’t get what we think we want, we might fight or act mean. For Thay, though, you don’t have to have one big heart-opening experience like Thomas Merton had at Fourth and Walnut. You just have to water the seeds of joy and wanting to help others – and not water the seeds of anger and selfishness.

Keep watering the seeds of kindness and sharing, and let the seeds slowly grow – and this helps water those seeds in our friends, too. Thay often speaks to children. He says:

Walk and touch peace every moment.
Walk and touch happiness every moment.
Each step brings a fresh breeze.
Each step makes a flower bloom.
Kiss the Earth with your feet.
Bring the Earth your love and happiness.
The Earth will be safe when we feel safe ourselves.

* * * * *
Part 5 of "The Spiritual Activist:
Previous: Part 4: "Thomas Merton"
Beginning: Part 1: "Satyana's Principles of Spiritual Activism"

Saturdao 13

Dao De Jing, verse 8b

16 translations

1. James Legge:

The excellence of a residence is in (the suitability of) the place;
that of the mind is in abysmal stillness; that of associations is in
their being with the virtuous; that of government is in its securing
good order; that of (the conduct of) affairs is in its ability; and
that of (the initiation of) any movement is in its timeliness.
And when (one with the highest excellence) does not wrangle (about
his low position), no one finds fault with him.

2. Archie Bahm:

If experience teaches that houses should be build close to the ground,
That friendship should be based upon sympathy and good will,
That good government employs peaceful means of regulation,
That business is more successful if it employs efficient methods,
That wise behavior adapts itself appropriately to the particular circumstances,
All this is because these are the easiest ways.
If one proceeds naturally, without ambition or envy, everything works out for the best.

3. Frank MacHovec:

In the home the truly wise love the humble earth, the foundation on which the home it built; in the heart they love what is genuine; in friendship they are compassionate; in words they are sincere; in government they foster peace and good will; in business they work with quiet efficiency.
Serenity is the goal of Tao; through it nothing is lost.

4. D.C. Lau

In a home it is the site that matters;
In quality of mind it is depth that matters;
In an ally it is benevolence that matters;
In speech it is good faith that matters;
In government it is order that matters;
In affairs it is ability that matters;
In action it is timeliness that matters.
It is because it does not contend that it is never at fault.

5. Gia-Fu Feng:

In dwelling, be close to the land.
In meditation, go deep in the heart.
In dealing with others, be gentle and kind.
In speech, be true.
In ruling, be just.
In business, be competent.
In action, watch the timing.
No fight: No blame.

6. Stan Rosenthal:

“The Way of Water”
Like water, the sage abides in a humble place;
in meditation, without desire; in thoughtfulness, he is profound, and in his dealings, kind.
In speech, sincerity guides the man of Tao, and as a leader, he is just.
In management, competence is his aim, and he ensures the pacing is correct.
Because he does not act for his own ends, nor cause unnecessary conflict,
he is held to be correct in his actions towards his fellow man.

7. Jacob Trapp:

“Like Water”
The Sage in his heart loves what is lowly;
in his thought he loves what is profound;
In relations with others he loves kindness;
He himself abides by the good order
He would have others observe.
Neither slothful nor strenuous,
He so times his actions and engagements
As not to be wasteful of energy or opportunity.
His words convey confidence.
He does not contend with others,
And thus lives peacefully with them.

8. Stephen Mitchell:

In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don't try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.
When you are content to be simply yourself
and don't compare or compete,
everybody will respect you.

9. Victor Mair

The quality of an abode is in its location,
The quality of the heart is in its depths,
The quality of giving lies in trust,
The quality of correct governance lies in orderly rule,
The quality of an enterprise depends on ability,
The quality of movement depends on timing.
Now,
It is precisely because one does not compete that there is no blame.

10. Michael LaFargue:

Excellence in a house: the ground
“Excellence in a mind: depth
Excellence in companions: Goodness
Excellence in speaking: sincerity
Excellence in setting things right: good management
Excellence on the job: ability
Excellence in making a move: good timing.”
Simply do not contend
then there will be no fault.

11. Peter Merel:

“Water”
So the sage:
Lives within nature,
Thinks within the deep,
Gives within impartiality,
Speaks within trust,
Governs within order,
Crafts within ability,
Acts within opportunity.
He does not contend, and none contend against him.

12. Ursula LeGuin:

“Easy by nature”
For a house,
the good thing is level ground.
In thinking,
depth is good.
The good of giving is magnanimity;
of speaking, honesty;
of government, order.
The good of work is skill,
and of action, timing.
No competition,
so no blame.

13. Ron Hogan:

Keep your feet on the ground.
Remember what's important.
Be there when people need you.
Say what you mean.
Be prepared for anything.
Do whatever you can,
whenever it needs doing.
If you don't
compare yourself to others,
nobody can compare to you.

14. Ames and Hall:

In dwelling, the question is where is the right place.
In thinking and feeling, it is how deeply.
In giving, it is how much like nature's bounty.
In speaking, it is how credibly.
In governing, it is how effectively.
In serving, it is how capably.
In acting, it is how timely.
It is only because there is no contentiousness in proper way-making
That it incurs no blame.

15. Yasuhiko Genku Kimura:

In dwelling, be grounded,
In thinking, be deep,
In giving, be balanced,
In speaking, be truthful,
In governing, be orderly,
In working, be competent,
In action, be timely,
In following the virtues of water,
The Sage contends with no one,
And therefore he invites no troubles in life.

16. Addiss and Lombardo:

Live in a good place.
Keep your mind deep.
Treat others well.
Stand by your word.
Keep good order.
Do the right thing.
Work when it’s time.
Only do not contend, And you will not go wrong.

* * * * *
Our lives:
A place to live;
thoughts and feelings;
friends, giving;
speaking;
reflecting upon the policies that govern us;
work, business, affairs;
making one-time decisions (as distinct from policy-making and routine work).
That's pretty much it, isn't it?
"If one proceeds naturally, without ambition or envy, everything works out for the best."

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See: Saturdao Index

Spiritual Activists: Thomas Merton

In 1958 – a year before I was born -- a 43-year-old monk from a monastery in Kentucky was visiting Louisville. He was standing on a street corner: the intersection of 4th street and Walnut Ave. His name was Thomas Merton, and he had been a Catholic Trappist monk for 15 years.

The corner of 4th and Walnut is now famous because of what happened to Thomas on that day. Something very profound happened to him – and yet nothing at all happened to him. All around him people and cars were going about their usual business as he stood there. What happened was this: his heart opened up.

This is how he wrote about it:

“In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness. The whole illusion of a separate holy existence is a dream.…This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud. And I suppose my happiness could have taken form in the words: ‘Thank God, thank God that I am like other men, that I am only a man among others.’ It is a glorious destiny to be a member of the human race, though it is a race dedicated to many absurdities and one which makes many terrible mistakes: …A member of the human race! To think that such a commonplace realization should suddenly seem like news that one holds the winning ticket in a cosmic sweepstake. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun. They are not ‘they’ but my own self. There are no strangers! Then it was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality. If only they could all see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way all the time. There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed…I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other.”

This week, Lake Chalice is asking: What do you want? Really want? And do you know? Wednesday’s post looked at Mohandas Gandhi; yesterday’s at Dorothy Day. Maybe seeing what they wanted will help us see what we want. Today we ask, what did Thomas Merton want?

When, at age 28, in 1943, Thomas entered the monastery and become a monk, what he wanted was to be alone, to withdraw from the world. There is so much that is sad, and unfair, and just ridiculous about the way people treat each other, and the way most people live their lives. Thomas just wanted to get away from all that.

What he found out after spending a lot of time being alone was that he wasn’t separate from the world at all, but right at the very center of it all the time. Thomas began to understand very deeply that most of our lives, we have an idea of ourselves: the “me” that works in the world, thinks about itself, tries to get things for itself. But this “me” is not the true “me.” The true “me” knows what Thomas knew as he stood at the corner of 4th and Walnut.

Maybe I want a house, or a bicycle, or some tasty, rich food. But what my true self wants is to know the truth of love, to know that you are me, and I am you, and to live a life constantly based on that knowledge.

The whole point of being alone, Thomas realized, is not to withdraw from the world but to teach ourselves the truth of love for the world. In loving the world, we want most to end war and poverty: for people to enjoy each other’s love, respect, and fair treatment.

Thomas was a social activist – not by establishing organizations or leading demonstrations, but by writing. He wrote powerful essays that helped people see how bad and unnecessary were war, and racism, and nuclear weapons.

When someone sees that his true self is also the true self of everyone, and wants to spread that joy, then he sees that when we’re mean to each other, it hides our true self, and hides the other person’s true self.

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Part 4 of "The Spiritual Activist"
Next: Part 5: "Thich Nhat Hanh"
Previous: Part 3: "Dorothy Day"
Beginning: Part 1: "Satyana's Principles of Spiritual Activism"

Spiritual Activists: Dorothy Day

Our next story is about Dorothy Day, born in 1897. She was a girl living in the San Francisco Bay area when the big earthquake of 1906 hit. Hundreds of people lost their homes, and the people came together to find shelter and food for the homeless families. Seeing the way that people can help each other in need made a strong impression on Dorothy.

As a young woman, she lived back in New York again – in Greenwich Village, where she was part of groups called “anarchists” or “socialists.” She marched in demonstrations for women’s suffrage and participated in protests against the fighting of World War I. “No more war! No more war!” said Dorothy Day.

What did she want? She wanted a world in which all people were peaceful and fair with each other. Her heart and her mind were very clear about that from her childhood.

Dorothy was 30-years-old when she became a Catholic and joined the Catholic church. Soon after, she was in Washington DC participating and writing about a march against hunger. While that seemed important, a feeling came over her that it wasn’t what her heart really wanted to be doing. She wrote:

“I offered up a special prayer which came with tears and anguish, that some way would open up for me to use what talents I possessed for my fellow workers, for the poor.”

She prayed for a way to help the poor.

She returned to New York, and the next day met Peter Maurin. The two of them started the Catholic Worker movement. They put out a newspaper, then began to build houses of hospitality – homes for the poor, where poor men and women and families could get food and a place to sleep.

Dorothy lived as a poor person herself: in the houses of hospitality, with and among the poor. Voluntary poverty meant an insecure life – and this very insecurity was a part of Dorothy’s life of faith – she had to trust in things beyond her control, had to open her heart to the unknown. She wrote:

“Our poverty is not a stark and dreary poverty, because we have the security which living together brings. But it is that living together that is often hard. Beds crowded together, much coming and going, people sleeping on the floor, no bathing facilities, only cold water. Poverty means…bedbugs, cockroaches and rats and the constant war against these. Poverty means body lice.”

Prayer gave Dorothy strength and courage to live the vision of the Catholic Worker movement: voluntary poverty, community life, and nonviolent pacifism.

At age 46, Dorothy left the Worker movement for six months for spiritual deepening. She took a room at a convent, and spent most of her days in prayer and meditation and in studying books about spirituality. The time for spiritual renewal was very important for maintaining her joy in the work for peace and justice. Throughout her life, Dorothy Day went on retreats where she would spend a week in silence and prayer deepening her awareness, her appreciation of beauty all around, and her joy.

What did Dorothy want? She knew that what the heart really wants isn’t things that money can buy. The heart wants to connect with others and serve. The heart wants fair and decent treatment for everybody. The heart wants to remember joy, and not waste its life away in forgetfulness of the joy that is all around us.

When a reporter asked Dorothy what the Catholic Worker movement was trying to do, Dorothy said,

“We are trying to make people happy.” 

It’s not that she thought other people’s happiness was more important than her own. It’s that the life of prayer and study had helped her live a life in which she always remembered that other people’s happiness and her own are the same thing.

We all want the same thing – but we don’t all know what we really want, or we give up on what we really want and settle for pouring our energy into what we think we want that isn’t what our hearts really want.

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Part 3 of "The Spiritual Activist"
Next: Part 4: "Thomas Merton"
Previous: Part 2: "Mohandas Gandhi"
Beginnining: Part 1: "Satyana's Principles of Spiritual Activism"

Spiritual Activists: Mohandas Gandhi

(A children’s story, sort of.)

In the Sunday school classes at many Unitarian Universalist congregations, our children learn to say: "We are Unitarian Universalists. We are a people of faith who have open minds, loving hearts, and helping hands." We also teach them that Unitarian Universalists aren’t the only wise people, nor the only open-minded or compassionate people. Hindus and Christians and Moslems and Buddhists can show us some ways to be better Unitarian Universalists. One of those people of deep faith who have much to teach us to deepen our faith was Mohandas K. Gandhi.

Let me first ask: What do you want? Did you ever think you wanted something, and then found out that it wasn’t what you really wanted? What we think we want isn't always what we really want -- and we often don't know what we really want.

I think that happened to Gandhi. Gandhi was born in India in 1869. He became a lawyer. At first, he couldn’t make a living as a lawyer because he was too shy to speak up in court.

What did Gandhi want? One thing it seems he wanted was for other people not to think badly of him. That made him shy about speaking up. But what did he really want? He didn’t know yet.

He moved to South Africa to do lawyering paperwork for a company there. Gandhi was in South Africa for 21 years. He gradually came to see that what he really wanted – what his heart wanted – was peace and fairness for all people. His heart knew that the suffering of others was his own suffering. Knowing this helped him be less shy.

Once, he was thrown off a train because he was in First Class, and the train official said his skin wasn’t pale enough for him to ride in First Class. On a stagecoach, he was beaten by the driver for refusing to make room for a European passenger.

What did Gandhi want? He wanted to be treated fairly. As he thought about his own desire to be treated fairly, he began to see that there was something bigger that he really wanted: fair treatment for all people.

Gandhi began organizing protest against a law that said Indians in South Africa could not vote. He was attacked by a mob and barely escaped with his life. Later, he could have asked the police to arrest the people that attacked him, but he wouldn’t do that. He said he wouldn’t use the law to fight back against personal wrongs.

What did he want? He wanted laws changed to be more fair. More than that, he wanted hearts changed. He wanted to see meanness learn how to turn into love. He knew putting people in jail wouldn’t help them learn how to be kind.

When he finally returned to India, it was ruled over by the English, and the English didn’t treat the Indians very well. Gandhi organized India – millions of people – to protest to let India be governed by a government elected by all of India – instead of being governed by another country.

Gandhi knew what the Indians wanted – and he knew what the British wanted, too – what they really wanted in their hearts, even if their thinking heads hadn’t figured out yet what the hearts really wanted.

So Gandhi always led protests that were nonviolent. People can’t open up to what their hearts are telling them if someone is hitting them. Through Gandhi’s nonviolent leadership, the British as well as the Indians were shone the way to greater flourishing and happiness.

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Part 2 of "The Spiritual Activist"
Next: Part 3: "Dorothy Day"
Previous: Part 1: "Satyana's Principles of Spiritual Activism"

Satyana's Principles of Spiritual Activism

Social justice requires spirituality. We cannot be effective at transforming the world if we are not transforming ourselves. We cannot do the work of bringing peace and justice to the world if we are not doing the work of bringing peace and justice to our hearts. We absolutely, simply cannot. The heroes of social justice activism -- people like Mohandas Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Aung San Su Kyi, Dorothy Day, Thich Nhat Hanh, and Thomas Merton – weren’t just effective political organizers who happened to also have a strong faith. Their work for justice depended upon, was empowered by, and became effective through their spirituality.

Gandhi embodied what his Hindu faith teaches of ahimsa: the principle that all living things are connected and form a unity requiring respect and kindness. Martin Luther King, Dorothy Day, and Thomas Merton embodied what their Christian faith teaches of love – often referenced as the Latin caritas, or the Greek agape: a spiritual love. Agape, as one theologian puts it, is “an intentional response to promote well-being when responding to that which has generated ill-being.” They took to heart Jesus’ words, “love your enemy,” and their faith tradition taught them to answer hatred with love. Aung San Suu Kyi, Thich Nhat Hanh, and the Dalai Lama continue to embody what their Buddhist faith teaches of karuna (compassion), and anatta (no self). There is no self separate from others; each of us is all of us; we cannot truly want to hurt them. Without a committed spiritual discipline, justice work is not compelling, is ineffective, succumbs to angers and fears, and ends in burn-out.

The Satyana Institute (click here) has worked with social change leaders since 1996. They have developed these thirteen "key learnings and guidelines" for effective spirituality that makes effective social justice work possible:

1. Transformation of motivation from anger/fear/despair to compassion/love/purpose. This is a vital challenge for today's social change movement. This is not to deny the noble emotion of appropriate anger or outrage in the face of social injustice. Rather, this entails a crucial shift from fighting against evil to working for love, and the long-term results are very different, even if the outer activities appear virtually identical. Action follows Being, as the Sufi saying goes. Thus "a positive future cannot emerge from the mind of anger and despair" (Dalai Lama).

2. Non-attachment to outcome. This is difficult to put into practice, yet to the extent that we are attached to the results of our work, we rise and fall with our successes and failures -- a sure path to burnout. Hold a clear intention, and let go of the outcome -- recognizing that a larger wisdom is always operating. As Gandhi said, "the victory is in the doing," not the results. Also, remain flexible in the face of changing circumstances: "Planning is invaluable, but plans are useless." (Churchill)

3. Integrity is your protection. If your work has integrity, this will tend to protect you from negative energy and circumstances. You can often sidestep negative energy from others by becoming "transparent" to it, allowing it to pass through you with no adverse effect upon you. This is a consciousness practice that might be called "psychic aikido."

4. Integrity in means and ends. Integrity in means cultivates integrity in the fruit of one's work. A noble goal cannot be achieved utilizing ignoble means.

5. Don't demonize your adversaries. It makes them more defensive and less receptive to your views. People respond to arrogance with their own arrogance, creating rigid polarization. Be a perpetual learner, and constantly challenge your own views.

6. You are unique. Find and fulfill your true calling. "It is better to tread your own path, however humbly, than that of another, however successfully." (Bhagavad Gita)

7. Love thy enemy. Or at least, have compassion for them. This is a vital challenge for our times. This does not mean indulging falsehood or corruption. It means moving from "us/them" thinking to "we" consciousness, from separation to cooperation, recognizing that we human beings are ultimately far more alike than we are different. This is challenging in situations with people whose views are radically opposed to yours. Be hard on the issues, soft on the people.

8. Your work is for the world, not for you. In doing service work, you are working for others. The full harvest of your work may not take place in your lifetime, yet your efforts now are making possible a better life for future generations. Let your fulfillment come in gratitude for being called to do this work, and from doing it with as much compassion, authenticity, fortitude, and forgiveness as you can muster.

9. Selfless service is a myth. In serving others, we serve our true selves. "It is in giving that we receive." We are sustained by those we serve, just as we are blessed when we forgive others. As Gandhi says, the practice of satyagraha ("clinging to truth") confers a "matchless and universal power" upon those who practice it. Service work is enlightened self-interest, because it cultivates an expanded sense of self that includes all others.

10. Do not insulate yourself from the pain of the world. Shielding yourself from heartbreak prevents transformation. Let your heart break open, and learn to move in the world with a broken heart. As Gibran says, "Your pain is the medicine by which the physician within heals thyself." When we open ourselves to the pain of the world, we become the medicine that heals the world. This is what Gandhi understood so deeply in his principles of ahimsa and satyagraha. A broken heart becomes an open heart, and genuine transformation begins.

11. What you attend to, you become. Your essence is pliable, and ultimately you become that which you most deeply focus your attention upon. You reap what you sow, so choose your actions carefully. If you constantly engage in battles, you become embattled yourself. If you constantly give love, you become love itself.

12. Rely on faith, and let go of having to figure it all out. There are larger 'divine' forces at work that we can trust completely without knowing their precise workings or agendas. Faith means trusting the unknown, and offering yourself as a vehicle for the intrinsic benevolence of the cosmos. "The first step to wisdom is silence. The second is listening." If you genuinely ask inwardly and listen for guidance, and then follow it carefully you are working in accord with these larger forces, and you become the instrument for their music.

13. Love creates the form. Not the other way around. The heart crosses the abyss that the mind creates, and operates at depths unknown to the mind. Don't get trapped by "pessimism concerning human nature that is not balanced by an optimism concerning divine nature, or you will overlook the cure of grace." (Martin Luther King) Let your heart's love infuse your work and you cannot fail, though your dreams may manifest in ways different from what you imagine.

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This is part 1 of "The Spiritual Activist"
Next: Part 2: "Spiritual Activists: Mohandas Gandhi"