Tag Archives: alone

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Practicing Stillness

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On the other side of ecstasy lies a painful emptiness. On the other side of bitterness lies joy. Where one goes, the other must follow.

In the ecstasy of understanding lies the gnawing pain of a new frontier of ignorance.

In the agony of yearning lies the ecstasy of love.

In the ecstasy of prayer lies the agony of smallness and distance before the infinite light.

There is no sweet song that is not equally bitter, save that which is shallow and meaningless.

He formed His world from delight, and so must share in its bitterness. Until the time when darkness will shine.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Duets”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

In yesterday’s morning meditation, I started to change the direction of the theme I had been addressing: one of fellowship and community. In my previous blogspot, the overarching theme I addressed was questioning my religious assumptions. I had been immersed in a One Law congregation, but a number of questions had come up as to whether or not this theology was valid in relation to the Bible and the will of God. For myself, I determined it was not, but it took a year of active and sometimes painful research, reading, and writing to come to that conclusion.

Now here I am again, questioning my assumptions.

One of the assumptions I built this current blog upon was the one that said I needed a different community of faith and that it should include my wife. As I have already said, that assumption proved to be false in part, and I’ve had to abandon it. Now, I’ve decided to accept whatever condition I am in relative to a life of faith as the one where God wants me and not try to force my wants, needs, or desires on my situation. So here I am beginning day two of “learning acceptance.”

My quote from Rabbi Freeman paints a picture of dualities. With ecstasy comes pain. With bitterness comes joy. With understanding comes ignorance. I’ve been trying to fight, and claw, and punch my way through what I saw as the barriers between me and what I thought God wanted, but like so many other religious people, I confused what I want with what God wants. Sometimes you just have to be still, and know that God is God. (Psalm 46:10) I suppose there are times to fight, but this probably isn’t one of them.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you. –Matthew 5:38-42 (ESV)

If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. –Romans 12:18 (ESV)

I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. –Philippians 4:12-13 (ESV)

I used to think all of the “peace” being discussed in these lessons was invoked through supernatural means. I’ve known almost no one in the community of faith who has such a peace, at least sustained over the course of their life. Sure, I’ve seen people have a momentary calmness, but it was always possible to disrupt it given a sufficient amount of stress. Even I have had two identifiable moments in my own life when I knew God had given me a kind of peace that was absolutely amazing, as if peace were a blanket and I could just wrap myself up inside of it. And each time, it lasted about a minute.

PrayerRecently though, I’ve been told that I need to find a way to let go of the worries and the anguish over the things I can’t control and the things that, when looked at objectively, don’t really matter. I know, easier said than done. How can I tell what really matters and what doesn’t? That’s practically a full time job. And even being able to determine that, how do I stop worrying about these things?

I know what you’re thinking.

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. –Matthew 6:25-33 (ESV)

Religious platitudes aside, this is also easier said than done. How does one operationalize “stop worrying?” Just “do it?” That’s a great advertizing slogan for Nike shoes, but it’s a little more difficult to put into day-to-day practice. Of course, some Christians out there will use this opportunity to say that I don’t have faith, as if they were wielding a blunt instrument and gleefully striking me about the head and shoulders. I suppose that might be satisfying to those folks who don’t let themselves be anxious, (or who pretend that they don’t worry so they look cool to others) but I don’t think it’s particularly helpful to me.

But let’s look at the lesson of the Master, and what was taught by the emissary Paul from another point of view. Let’s assume it’s not just a matter of faith and an effect of the supernatural. Let’s assume (yeah, I do that a lot) that it’s a matter of practice, too. In the world of psychology, it’s called cognitive restructuring or “you are what you think.” The Bible says this as well.

For as he thinks in his heart, so is he… –Proverbs 23:7 (AKJV)

There are all manner of ways to learn to stop worrying over the things that don’t matter, and they all require a certain amount of practice and discipline. If I get upset over how people drive around me as I commute to and from work, it doesn’t help because I can’t control the other drivers. All that happens is I get myself worked up. If I get upset over my lack of community among the people of faith, it doesn’t help because I can’t control other people in other communities. All that happens is I get myself worked up and I write a lot of blogs. If I have no control over a situation, does worrying help? According to the Master as he taught in Matthew 6, no. As he said (v 34), “do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

Maybe being alone with God is not such a bad thing:

God is a refuge of strength for us, a help in distress, very accessible. –Psalm 46:2 (Stone Edition Tanakh)

I spent some time in the Psalms this morning and realized, in the end, all people all over the world will acknowledge God’s Sovereignty, no matter who we are or where we happen to live.

Clap your hands, all peoples!
Shout to God with loud songs of joy!
For the Lord, the Most High, is to be feared,
a great king over all the earth.
He subdued peoples under us,
and nations under our feet.
He chose our heritage for us,
the pride of Jacob whom he loves. Selah

God has gone up with a shout,
the Lord with the sound of a trumpet.
Sing praises to God, sing praises!
Sing praises to our King, sing praises!
For God is the King of all the earth;
sing praises with a maskil!

God reigns over the nations;
God sits on his holy throne.
The princes of the peoples gather
as the people of the God of Abraham.
For the shields of the earth belong to God;
he is highly exalted! –Psalm 47 (ESV)

Solomon, son of David, wrote of his own laments in Ecclesiastes, so I’m not the first to confront my faith with my humanity. He also provided this conclusion.

The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil. –Ecclesiastes 12:13-14 (ESV)

The prophet Micah said it like this:

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? –Micah 6:8 (ESV)

Since this is a morning mediation, I think it’s appropriate to end this message of hope thus:

This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. –Psalm 118:24 (ESV)

Amen.

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Why Am I Alone?

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embedded by Embedded Video

I can’t get this woman out of my head. I’ve seen this video embedded at a lot of different online venues yesterday, but I was busy and didn’t take the time to actually view it until this morning. As it turns out, my “lack of time” is part of what makes this Episcopal Priest’s plea so poignant.

To give credit where it’s due, I clicked a link at Derek Leman’s blog, which took me to the actual embedded video on Scot McKnight’s blog. If you frequent either of those places, you’ve probably already seen the video. If not, and if you haven’t already watched it here or someplace else on the web, please do so before continuing to read my blog post. The video is less than ten minutes long and it is so worth it.

Reading the various comments on Derek’s and McKnight’s blogs, I was taken aback at some of the criticism expressed by a number of the commentators. Granted, the Episcopal church isn’t my cup of tea either, but there’s a lot more going on here than just how we view one version of Christianity versus another. Also, as was pointed out repeatedly, most of the approaches this Priest felt had failed in bringing in and retaining people to a religious and spiritual experience have to do with “programs”. It’s as if, because her methods and her techniques weren’t successful, it meant that people didn’t care about the cause of Christ.

I mentioned on McKnight’s blog that…

I have sort of the opposite problem. I’m sure she and I would disagree about a good many things, but I would *love* to sit down with her (or someone) and talk about Jesus. I just can’t find a person or a place (face-to-face as opposed to online) where I’ll fit in. It’s not a matter of the details, but the honesty and passion this Priest has for what she’s doing and who she is as a person of faith is exactly what I’m looking for.

To me, her specific religious “bent” or her reliance on programs and methods are all secondary to what she’s really saying and particularly, what she’s really feeling. I’ve felt that way too, sort of. No, I’m not an ordained minister of any kind and I haven’t been “called to lead” (although I did a bit of teaching for several years at a small congregation), but I do feel frustrated and isolated, as if no one understands the drive I have to do what I’m doing. She has a drive and a need as well, and she keeps hitting a brick wall. You can only take a good run at a brick wall and smash into it so many times before the pain and lack of forward progress makes you do what she said: “So we cancelled it all…”

In a way, I “cancelled it all” too, but my reasons were very different. I “cancelled” my former way of leading a religious life, not because I wasn’t happy and not because I wasn’t making a kind of progress, but because of where my progress lead me. It’s really a lot more complicated than that, and to find out more, read Why I Don’t Go To Church. I left, not because I hit a wall exactly, but because I realized, in order to avoid hitting a wall, I had to change course.

And so I did.

And then I hit a wall anyway. I recognized the possibility that I might hit that wall, but I was banking on managing to avoid it. I didn’t. So I’m sitting at the base of the wall, as I imagine this Episcopal Priest is doing, taking stock of my options and looking for a way around, over, or under the wall. I’ll need to change my course again, but that’s what life is all about: change. Change is always painful, even when it’s beneficial.

I’m not sure what this Priest’s answer is. I’m not particularly sure of what my answer is. I do know that I’m not inclined to criticize her for her religion or her approach to her need to teach, even if I disagree with them. I do know she’s someone I would really love to talk to about Jesus, not because we would agree with each other, but because, in spite of our extremely different backgrounds, we are at the same place on the trail. We have the same experience. We’re asking the same questions. We’re looking for the same answers. And that tells me something I hadn’t let myself realize before.

It tells me that, in the mess of all of our different religious traditions, and all of the subsets of our religion, and all of the splinters and fragments and offshoots we inhabit because we are so unalike in how we conceptualize God and the Bible and faith, we are all the same. I spend a lot of time focused on how different I am from everybody else around me and what an oddball I must look like to all the other Christians, but today I found someone in a video who helped me realize that we are all the same, too. We travel different paths and occupy divergent trails, but all of those trails intersect between the question and the answer of “who is God” and “who am I”. When we take off our pretenses and our masks and our religious self-delusions and are brutally honest with ourselves and with everyone else, we are all alike when we ask, “why isn’t this working for me?” “Why isn’t this working for everyone else around me?” “What’s wrong and how can I fix it?” “Can I even fix it at all?”

We are all alike when, even in the presence of God, we cry out, “Why do I feel so alone?” That’s why I want to meet her. To tell her she’s not alone. And I want to meet her so I won’t feel alone, too.

But there is hope, even in emptiness, as Rabbi Tzvi Freeman cites from the teachings of the Rebbe:

The beginning of all paths and the starting point of every climb is to open yourself to receive from Above.

How do you receive from Above?
By being empty.
For a vessel that is full cannot receive anything.

A person that is full of self-concern, of “what will become of me?” of “where life is taking me?”—such a person leaves no room for life to enter.

But a simple, open spirit is filled with joy from Above.

Addendum, Friday afternoon: I realized I had no idea who the Priest in the video is and decided to try and find the original source or at least something a little closer to that source. I discovered that the Priest is Rev. LeeAnne Watkins of St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in St. Paul, Minnesota. I traced the video as far back as February 16, 2012 as posted at the Episcopal Story Project. If I find out any more, I’ll update my information here.