HERE'S THE DEAL - FROM RICHARD WAGAMESE

My deal with Creator is this: I'm dragging a sack of old worries, hurt, anger, doubt and fear up a long hill trying to get to the other side, to relief, to healing. 

Creator says: If you need a hand, I'm here. 

You pull and I'll push. 

I say: Really? 

Creator says: I promise that I will always be
there to help you.  But there's a catch. 

I say: What's the catch? 

Creator says: You have to pull first.

~ Richard Wagamese, Embers, 2016, Douglas & McIntyre ~

I know that not all of you are as digitally connected as I am; I also know that many of you are much more linked through your devices than I ever will be.  I spend most of my digital time at my desk top computer - easily three to four hours a day.  My cell phone is at my side all the time, but I tend to use it mostly as a phone, occasionally as a camera, infrequently for texting and seldom for the dozens of other uses it is capable of.  I also bought an iPad back in 2015 and I rarely use it...it just takes up space on my desk.

A few months ago, there was an article in a magazine about making a digital sabbath.  The author was someone who was never disconnected from the world wide web.  She did not like the fact that she was now in the habit of checking her smart phone dozens of times an hour; she was spending so much time "staying in touch" that it was forcing a different pace to her life.  And, she noticed that all of the time she spent on her gadgets was actually reducing the quality of the personal relationships that she treasured.  She felt that she was losing her ability to distinguish between what was important (deserving of time) and what wasn't a high priority.  Technology was taking over her life.

When I read that story, my reaction was "Me too!"  Last weekend, I decided to do something about it.  At 8 pm Saturday night, I shut off my computer - totally and completely.  Not just on sleep mode, but actually off.  I also took my smart phone and disabled anything except the phone function.  I did not use my computer, my phone or my iPad until 8 am on Monday morning.  I did not watch TV.  I did not listen to the radio.  I took a digital sabbath, except for the monitor at church.

The sabbath is deeply rooted in our past; it was common, only a couple of generations ago, for most of us to take a day out of our week and not work: rest, play, enjoyment and renewal...but no paid work.  Our ancestors actually fought hard not to have to work seven days a week; it was a hard-won battle.  My digital sabbatical had that same focus.

How did I put in my time?  Saturday evening, I sat out on the front deck and I relaxed, read a book, watched and listened to the birds.  I went to bed when it got dark and read a bit more before falling asleep.  Sunday morning after breakfast, I harvested some beans at the church garden before attending worship.  After church and lunch, I read some more; I relaxed on the porch and even dozed off for a bit.  I chatted with Thom and Marnie, went swimming, and chatted with the neighbours and their kids.  I wrote some cards and letters to friends.  I went to bed when it got dark and read until I fell asleep.

Monday morning, I felt I'd had a break, I felt refreshed, like I'd been living at a different pace.  It reminded me of the start of summer holidays when I was a child.  As I turned on my computer, I felt grateful, rather than resentful, for what technology had to offer.  I did not feel dread at the number of emails or texts that I might face after 36 hours of being disconnected.  There would be time for all of that.

Our ancestors were grateful for a day of rest; I've no doubt their sabbath day was not all leisure, but I'm pretty certain it was time to restore the heart, body and soul. 

My digital sabbath felt so good, I'm going to do it again.

May we all live in the wonderful mystery of the Spirit.

Pat

THE SMALLEST THING

I finally found some time and energy to get at the yard and garden work that surrounds me now that spring has arrived.  I've been putting it off for at least a week now, pleading (with myself) over work in other responsibilities.  It's not been over work though; more likely a case of lack of will.  Lack of will has shown up all over the place and in many forms...the most common being procrastination.  Anyway, that's not what I wanted to write about.

I was in the midst of getting my garden tractor up and running after a long winter of storage.  I had kept the battery inside all winter and for the last two weeks, it had been on the charger to make certain it was powered up.  I put the battery in the tractor and connected the cables.  I jumped into the seat, stepped on the brake pedal and turned the key...nada.  I tried several times, but with the exception of a small little less-than-second "burp" of ignition, nothing.  I scraped a bit of crud off the positive terminal and cable and tried again - still nothing.  I gave up and took the battery out again, resigned to a trip to Canadian Tire for a new battery.  This one, the one that was "dead", is in its fifth year.

At Canadian Tire, the salesperson tested my old battery and came out to tell me it was fully charged and ready to go...nothing wrong with the battery.  She told me to try giving the starter/solenoid a tap - maybe it was sticking.

I got home, reinstalled the battery and turned the key; nothing but a tiny wisp of smoke from the positive terminal.  I got a screwdriver and, following the advice of the lady at Canadian Tire, I whacked the starter a couple of times.  Still no go.

I pushed the tractor from the garden shed to the carport and then tried everything I had already done, again.  Same results - no ignition.  I was stumped.  Finally, on a whim from I don't know where, I went into the house, got a small glass of white vinegar and poured it over the positive terminal.  There was no visible reaction because I had already cleaned the terminal at the outset, scraping off what little corrosion there was.

I climbed back on board, turned the key and presto!  Ignition!  Go figure.

A tiny little bit of corrosion was enough to impede the spark of ignition; what's stranger, four ounces of white vinegar was enough to change everything.  Why is it that most of the time, it's the small things that make the biggest difference? 

Some of the books I've been reading lately have an answer for that question.  The reason that small, simple things tend to be "game changers" is because they have been reduced to the essentials.  All the trim and fluff have been stripped away and what's left is the kernel...the kernel of truth, of power, of knowledge, of progress, of action...you name it.  Even the most complex concepts and processes can be distilled to these simple essentials, without losing the essence of the original subject.

I've tested this against what must be one of the most complex, nuanced structures I know -  Christianity.  Do you think Christianity is complicated?  Here's what Marcus J. Borg wrote: "Christianity is a magnificent tradition...it's about truth, goodness and beauty.  It addresses two great human yearnings - our longing for personal transformation and our desire that the world be a better place.  The Christian message reduced to its essentials is: love God (as known in Jesus) and change the world. ..the central message is simple.  It is about loving God and loving what God loves."  pp.237/238, Speaking Christian, 2011, Marcus J. Borg.

There it is:  truth, goodness, beauty...be transformed, make the world a better place, love God and love what God loves.

That's the Way.  Simple.

ON A DAY WHEN WE NEED REASSURANCE AND GRACE – WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 22, 2014

Today, a young man on ceremonial guard duty at the Canadian War Memorial in Ottawa, was shot down.  The assailant then made his way to Parliament, entered the building and was himself killed by security forces.  Others may have been physically wounded in the fray; certainly, all of us have sustained some sort of damage as a result of these events.  There is grief, there is fear, there is uncertainty (can you be fearful without being uncertain?) and there is anger.  There is anger with all its accompanying hurt – hurting ourselves, hurting others.  When commentators were talking about the potential for ricochets of bulletins inside the stone buildings, I thought to myself, the ricochets that we most have to worry about will be those of hatred, anger and vitriol.

There isn’t a broadcast media site that doesn’t contain dozens of posted comments full of hate; and the targets of that hatred include not only the man who committed the murder of Corporal Nathan Cirillo this morning at the cenotaph.  Typical of hatred, no one is left un-named or untouched…national leaders, politicians, spokespersons, political parties, commentators, other people posting their comments on-line…when hatred surfaces, we are all targets of opportunity.

I was left wondering what my own response to it should be?  I am shocked but not surprised by the event itself.  Violence of this sort is a bit like gambling.  There is a mathematical certainty that sooner or later it will find us.  But what should my response be? I was preparing some short announcements for the church worship bulletin this Sunday and I happened to look in a resource that I sometimes use for inspiration – it is the Divine Service Book for the Armed Forces.  My hand writing on the inside cover tells me that I was service with 2 Airborne Commando in Petawawa when I obtained the book…that would have been the early 1980’s.  I never opened that book until about a year ago.

I found a prayer for courage and it seemed to me that my first response to today’s events should be prayer.  And so I offer that particular devotion in hope that by praying, I will be reassured of God’s grace, and be reminded that we are all beloved:

Teach us, Good Lord, to serve Thee as thou deservest; to give and not count the cost; to fight and not heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labour and not to ask for any reward, save that of knowing that we do Thy will; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

That is a hard prayer to offer when my heart is heavy and I feel sorrow for those who died, others who are damaged by today’s events.  The only thing that makes it easier is when I can surrender my own fear and uncertainty, if only for a few fleeting seconds at a time.  I know that fear is the mind-killer and that it will obliterate all that is good, if it is not confronted for what it is.  To confront fear is to seek out what is fully human in all of us.  To replace fear and anger with grace and love is my response.  <><Pat

GOING TOWARDS...OR GOING AWAY FROM?

One of the most common metaphors for life is that of a journey.  Seeing one's life as a journey is as old as human consciousness.  For a person who sees himself as a "seeker", that symbol of journey is very powerful and full of context.

Last week I turned the page of a travel book written by an Irish woman in 1963 (every page I turn in a book is a metaphorical journey).  She observed that when most people take a journey, they do so from the perspective of "going away from".  From the outset, these people travel with a pervading sense of anxiety and foreignness, leaving all that is familiar behind - strangers in a strange land, as the Exodus story frames it.  The author contrasts that outlook with a very few who journey from the perspective of "going towards," where there is a sense of being drawn forward, an expectation of promise and discovery.

Last week I listened to readings from the journals of black people who suffered enslavement and its evils.  Those ancestral stories, read aloud by descendants several generations removed, were also about journeys of going away from and going towards.  There was contrast between the despair of capture, transportation and sale into slavery, and the hope of new life following escape through the Underground Railroad.

I'm at the point on my own journey that I pay attention to coincidence.  I think to myself, "Okay, God - what are you trying to tell me about my own journey?  Is this a teaching moment?"

Of course we are all on a journey of some sort - it's called life.  We have choices, decisions, challenges and victories to experience.  It strikes me that one of the decisions I have to make is whether my journey will be one of "going away" or one of "going towards".

When the disciple Thomas questions Jesus (John 14:6), Jesus responds, "I am the way, the truth and the life."  Jesus understands that his disciples are uncertain and he speaks to reassure them about the outward and (most importantly) the inward journey they will make if they follow in his footsteps towards a life in God.

I believe those reassuring words are meant for me as much as Thomas.  At its core, it is a message of encouragement to live my life as a journey of "going towards."  As much as possible, my journey has to be full of the here and now, living fully in the present.  My future - that's a source for hope, but only in the sense that it draws me towards the next moment of now.  And  the past...well, it's over and done with and I need to move beyond it.

It all sounds so simple, but I know it's a difficult journey to make.  Everyday I'm faced with the choice between hope and despair and my stories reflect the pull of those contrasting outlooks.  God being my helper, I'll keep seeking the Way.

<><Pat

LIFE DECISIONS

There are days when I think my life is largely made up of the decisions I make and then living the outcomes.  That might sound a bit bleak, but there's more than just a kernel of truth in it.  

One aspect of the human condition setting us apart from most of the other animals on the planet is the ability (perhaps I should say "need") to make decisions.  There will be some people who argue that it's possible to live without making decisions (what kind of life would that be?), but the philosopher in me says that living without making decisions is a decision in itself.  I cannot live without taking decisions, exercising the freedom of choice with which I was born.  There is something god-like in that statement - perhaps it is one meaning of the phrase, "man was made in the image of God," the ultimate decision-maker.

Some of us are faced with monumental decisions; others, perhaps the lucky among us, deal only with the minor every-day decisions of life.  But that too, is a matter of perspective.  I know that I can agonize for days about mundane matters, bouncing back and forth between options, stalling and backing away from the point of decision.  Conversely, on momentous issues, the decisions can come quickly and easily, without a lot of conscious deliberation.

I recently heard the Moderator of the United Church of Canada speak in Toronto.  He talked about the challenge of being church in these modern days of spectacle, times of turmoil and chaos, these days of endless conflict and change.  At some point in his discourse, he reflected on making hard decisions and he recited this poem from memory:

Decisions

Between two words
choose the quieter one.

Between word and silence
choose listening.

Between two books
choose the dustier one.

Between the earth and the sky
choose a bird.

Between two animals
choose the one who needs you more.

Between two children
choose both.

Between the lesser and the bigger evil
choose neither.

Between hope and despair
choose hope:
it will be harder to bear.

by Boris Novak (translated by Dintinjana)

At the time, I was struck mostly by Gary Patterson's ability to quote poetry, and the lines that stayed with me were the last stanza about hope and despair.  But, I found some time to retrieve the whole poem from an on-line source and when I read it over again, something else important emerged.

As a decision maker, I am prone to thinking in binary terms:  yes-or-no, on-or-off, open-or-closed.  I think I share that tendency with most people.  But this Croatian poet elegantly relates a third way to look at life and the decisions it requires...a middle way, I might call it, a loving way.  That term, the middle way, is one that is familiar to those who practice meditation in all its many forms - so, no credit to me for using it.  It is however, an apt description of an alternative to binary thinking...or what others refer to as the all or nothing approach.

The middle way is one of balance - precarious at times, but still attainable.  I sense that in my searching for the Spirit in my life, it will find me at the point of balance.  I think that the Divine is most discernable in that state of balance.  I think that everything important to human happiness is found at the point of balance; I know that I am least at peace when I am unbalanced.  I think that it is love that brings me back to balance.

The most precious commodities on earth are not gold, silver, platinum or oil.  They are balance and love.

<>< Pat

LOVING THE UNLOVABLE

During Lent this year, my brother Thom suggested that we reflect on where we see the presence of God in the world.  He was more successful in sticking to that theme than I was.  But I still think about that - where I see, discover or sense the presence of the Spirit in my life.  I've come to learn that for me, this needs to be an intentional act; I have to actively seek out the Divine in my life.  I think that is because my life and our society are so full of busy-ness and spectacle, my ability to see the quiet, steady presence of God is diminished.  To find God in my life, I need to search for it, reach out for it, dig for it. 

Maybe it has always been hard for humans to find the Spirit, even back in early times.  Jesus taught his followers that it was simple, but those closest to him found it a hard path to follow.  And, so do I...every day, my actions and thoughts make it a difficult journey.

Recently, I've been dealing with a demanding situation calling on me to be intentional about seeking the presence of the Spirit.  This situation is full of emotion - a mix of positive energy coming out of change, accompanied by negative shadows in the background...a potent mixture of one part disdain, one part spite, one part anger and a dash of hatred thrown in for seasoning.  I'm aware of this negative side to things and I feel it colouring how I deal with the situation.  This negative side is mostly focused at a particular person (that is so human!) and what makes it even easier to focus on this is my sense that somehow I've been betrayed.  That sense is so strong, it threatens to take over my judgment, to throw me off balance and plunge me into a whirlpool of vindictiveness and rash behaviour.

Enter my brother Thom; Thom the Good, Thom the Balanced, Thom - my lens for seeing the presence of the Spirit in life.  Thom sent me a reflection that was about loving the unlovable.  It was a short reminder of how Jesus asked his followers to act; that word "act" is important, that's what Jesus expected - he wanted us to walk the talk.  He taught that I need to love others as I love myself, to treat them as I would be treated.  Even if they are unlovable or do unlovable things, I am called by the Spirit to be loving.  Whew!  Simple words that are hard to follow.

But, when I think about it, the sense of it becomes evident.  To love another as I love myself is one of those double-edged actions...an action that is reciprocal.  If my action is negative for the other, I will experience the negative too.  If it's loving for the other, I too will experience the loving.  If I cannot love the other, how can I love myself?

In terms of this demanding situation I'm dealing with, I think I was coming back to ground on my own; but, Thom's reflection served to remind me of how I need to act.  Tough decisions are easier when they are not influenced by negative factors like spitefulness, anger and hatred.  Those feelings are as damaging to me as they are to the other.  So, I need to set them aside and get on with loving the unlovable.  Something Divine can happen then: solutions that were invisible suddenly become obvious.  Not easy, but do-able, God being my helper.

<><Pat