A call in the middle of the night. A 17 year old boy, less than 3 months away from graduating from high school, has committed suicide. His family hurts. His peers at school question.
What would you say to this family? What would you say to his friends from school? Where is God to be found in such a turn of events?
In the end only God is God. No theological study, no dogmatic teaching and no zealous evangelization is going to change that. God's historical track record is One who just doesn't give up on us. The God that Jesus spoke of is a loving father with arms ever extended, inviting us to surrender to that love and live our life within his embrace. God is not bound by our judgmental pronouncements and narrow mindedness. As a person of deep spiritual hunger and profound faith, I am banking on God who is merciful beyond all telling and who is much more generous in extending grace to us than we are toward one another.
In the instance of suicide we must keep in mind that sin has always been seen as a willfull act to do that which our informed conscience knows is wrong. What can be willfull about an act that's shrouded in desperation, aloneness, brokenness and hurt? Can anyone be more "lost" than at that moment when life has become so unbearable that the only way out is to end it?
Our religious tradition has much to say about the importance God places on seeking the lost. And so I leave you all with one final question to ponder...
Would God - no, could God - abandon such a person?
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Suicide
I dread being woke up in the middle of the night by the disheveling ring of the phone.
Several months following Jennifer's death but before the winter was ready to relinquish the season to spring I received one of those ominous calls. A parishioner was calling to ask if I could visit. The state police had just informed them that their 17 year old son committed suicide. His wife was understandably distraught and he also hoped I would talk to their 14 year old son. Shortly before 2:00 am, I had dressed and hit the road.
One of the difficulties of serving a large inner city church of 2,000 families was that you never get to know a significant percentage of your parishioners. If they attended Church at all, they would either slip out early to avoid the traffic or disappeared out a side door without your ever seeing them. I had no recollection of the family I was asked to visit.
When I arrived, the state police and sheriff's department were still there conducting their investigation searching for clues that might explain what had happened. I sat down with Chuck and Betty and their 14 year old son Chris. They related what police had told them, questioned why such a thing could have happened and shared memories of the son and brother who would not be coming home. And I listened. Together we cried, embraced and prayed that God would offer some sense of peace and understanding.
Lance was a quiet kid but they were not aware of his ever being in any kind of trouble. He seemed to get along with his peers and had lots of friends at school. He was looking forward to graduating from high school and going to college in the fall. For some unknown reason he had taken his car and driven to the other side of the state where police attempted to execute a stop for a traffic violation. He fled and a high speed chase ensued. Lance pulled off onto a gravel road in the country where he stopped running, lifted a handgun to his temple and pulled the trigger.
What would you say to this family? What would you say to his friends from school? Where is God to be found in such a turn of events?
I encourage you to comment with your thoughts. Look for the conclusion to this post tomorrow. I will share how I approached this difficult moment to comfort this family and grieving friends at school.
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Several months following Jennifer's death but before the winter was ready to relinquish the season to spring I received one of those ominous calls. A parishioner was calling to ask if I could visit. The state police had just informed them that their 17 year old son committed suicide. His wife was understandably distraught and he also hoped I would talk to their 14 year old son. Shortly before 2:00 am, I had dressed and hit the road.
One of the difficulties of serving a large inner city church of 2,000 families was that you never get to know a significant percentage of your parishioners. If they attended Church at all, they would either slip out early to avoid the traffic or disappeared out a side door without your ever seeing them. I had no recollection of the family I was asked to visit.
When I arrived, the state police and sheriff's department were still there conducting their investigation searching for clues that might explain what had happened. I sat down with Chuck and Betty and their 14 year old son Chris. They related what police had told them, questioned why such a thing could have happened and shared memories of the son and brother who would not be coming home. And I listened. Together we cried, embraced and prayed that God would offer some sense of peace and understanding.
Lance was a quiet kid but they were not aware of his ever being in any kind of trouble. He seemed to get along with his peers and had lots of friends at school. He was looking forward to graduating from high school and going to college in the fall. For some unknown reason he had taken his car and driven to the other side of the state where police attempted to execute a stop for a traffic violation. He fled and a high speed chase ensued. Lance pulled off onto a gravel road in the country where he stopped running, lifted a handgun to his temple and pulled the trigger.
What would you say to this family? What would you say to his friends from school? Where is God to be found in such a turn of events?
I encourage you to comment with your thoughts. Look for the conclusion to this post tomorrow. I will share how I approached this difficult moment to comfort this family and grieving friends at school.
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Jennifer - Part Two
This is the continuation of a previous post on 8/23/2005...
Following Jennifer's funeral, the students of the small, lakeshore community school resumed the customary pursuits of adolescence. Though the question "Why?" will likely accompany them throughout their entire lives, some found comfort in imagining that, because she was the good person she was, God had wanted Jennifer for a special purpose known only to him.
No picture of a Friday night in the fall would be complete for me without including the stadium lights, cheering crowds and marching bands that surround high school football. The Laker football team asked me to be their chaplain and I graciously accepted. It meant I got to ride on the team bus and watch the games from the sidelines. Everyone expected LMC to have a good season under their new head coach but no one could have predicted the magic about to unfold.
Jennifer's death forged a mystical bond among this group of kids and I felt a part of it. I was asked to lead the team in prayer before, during and after each game. In my prayer, I tried to reassure them that in Jennifer they had a friend who now knew what it was all about, who experienced what we could only speculate about. The first two games were big wins, outscoring their opponents 50-12. Game three was a struggle. The visiting Lakers were outplayed and late in the game were lucky to have the ball one last time in a scoreless game. Following a sideline prayer, the kids took the field and scored on a Hail Mary pass into the end zone as time expired, winning 8-0.
LMC breezed through its next four games, outscoring opponents 184-18. Their next foe took them away to play their rival for the league championship. Trailing 14-18 with time running out, it looked as though the dream season was about to come to an end. I was again called upon for a sideline prayer before the team returned to the field. As in game three, an impossible, miraculous razzle dazzle play nailed the win, 20-18. The team and fans were jubilant in celebration, but paused in the end zome in prayer to thank God - and Jennifer - for making their season possible.
The last game of the season was to qualify for the state playoffs. The ratings did not favor the Lakers making post season play but they needed a win to have any chance at an invitation. Once again LMC found itself down 0-3 late in the game. For the third time a sideline prayer and a miraculous play pulled the game out, 6-3. Luck finally ran out, however, as their perfect season did not earn them their berth for a bid at a state championship. If they had, I have no doubt this group of kids would have won it all.
The kids believed that God - and Jennifer - was with them that fall and that was all the inspiration they needed to experience the impossible.
A question to ponder as you consider this post is...
When have you experienced the impossible in your life and what was your inspiration?
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Following Jennifer's funeral, the students of the small, lakeshore community school resumed the customary pursuits of adolescence. Though the question "Why?" will likely accompany them throughout their entire lives, some found comfort in imagining that, because she was the good person she was, God had wanted Jennifer for a special purpose known only to him.
No picture of a Friday night in the fall would be complete for me without including the stadium lights, cheering crowds and marching bands that surround high school football. The Laker football team asked me to be their chaplain and I graciously accepted. It meant I got to ride on the team bus and watch the games from the sidelines. Everyone expected LMC to have a good season under their new head coach but no one could have predicted the magic about to unfold.
Jennifer's death forged a mystical bond among this group of kids and I felt a part of it. I was asked to lead the team in prayer before, during and after each game. In my prayer, I tried to reassure them that in Jennifer they had a friend who now knew what it was all about, who experienced what we could only speculate about. The first two games were big wins, outscoring their opponents 50-12. Game three was a struggle. The visiting Lakers were outplayed and late in the game were lucky to have the ball one last time in a scoreless game. Following a sideline prayer, the kids took the field and scored on a Hail Mary pass into the end zone as time expired, winning 8-0.
LMC breezed through its next four games, outscoring opponents 184-18. Their next foe took them away to play their rival for the league championship. Trailing 14-18 with time running out, it looked as though the dream season was about to come to an end. I was again called upon for a sideline prayer before the team returned to the field. As in game three, an impossible, miraculous razzle dazzle play nailed the win, 20-18. The team and fans were jubilant in celebration, but paused in the end zome in prayer to thank God - and Jennifer - for making their season possible.
The last game of the season was to qualify for the state playoffs. The ratings did not favor the Lakers making post season play but they needed a win to have any chance at an invitation. Once again LMC found itself down 0-3 late in the game. For the third time a sideline prayer and a miraculous play pulled the game out, 6-3. Luck finally ran out, however, as their perfect season did not earn them their berth for a bid at a state championship. If they had, I have no doubt this group of kids would have won it all.
The kids believed that God - and Jennifer - was with them that fall and that was all the inspiration they needed to experience the impossible.
A question to ponder as you consider this post is...
When have you experienced the impossible in your life and what was your inspiration?
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Change
Featured Grownups With Content is asking members to consider a post this weekend on the theme of change. I think this is a great idea, so belatedly here is my contribution...
I wonder why change frightens people so. Afterall, everything that is continuously unfolds. Nothing remains constant. Growth. Evolution. Journey. Change. That's life!
That we fight change seems on the surface to be human nature. We are most comfortable when we are in our element, when we surround ourselves in the familiar. And so we stubbornly cling to the things in our life that have always been. At work the answer to why we do what we do is all too often little more than because its the way things have always been done. For some, the effort to fight change is so intense and persistent that they find themselves engaged in weekly visits to their psychotherapist and looking for the elusive pill that will bring happiness. But how can one find true happiness while living life contrary to nature?
Attitude and perspective are critical in keeping our emotions in check. Emotional discord or restlessness is the culprit most likely to rob us of a sense of wholeness and peace. It is important therefore to look at change maturely and with the right attitude. Change isn't the enemy. It's our friend.
Through embracing change instead of fighting it we can own the direction our life takes as it inevitably unfolds. When we face each new day anticipating our progress along the journey and greeting the changes taken place that leave us so much more than what we were the day before we will have learned to harness the power and beauty of change.
A question to ponder as you consider this post is...
Looking back, has resistence to change ever made a positive contribution to your life?
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
I wonder why change frightens people so. Afterall, everything that is continuously unfolds. Nothing remains constant. Growth. Evolution. Journey. Change. That's life!
That we fight change seems on the surface to be human nature. We are most comfortable when we are in our element, when we surround ourselves in the familiar. And so we stubbornly cling to the things in our life that have always been. At work the answer to why we do what we do is all too often little more than because its the way things have always been done. For some, the effort to fight change is so intense and persistent that they find themselves engaged in weekly visits to their psychotherapist and looking for the elusive pill that will bring happiness. But how can one find true happiness while living life contrary to nature?
Attitude and perspective are critical in keeping our emotions in check. Emotional discord or restlessness is the culprit most likely to rob us of a sense of wholeness and peace. It is important therefore to look at change maturely and with the right attitude. Change isn't the enemy. It's our friend.
Through embracing change instead of fighting it we can own the direction our life takes as it inevitably unfolds. When we face each new day anticipating our progress along the journey and greeting the changes taken place that leave us so much more than what we were the day before we will have learned to harness the power and beauty of change.
A question to ponder as you consider this post is...
Looking back, has resistence to change ever made a positive contribution to your life?
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Special Place, Sacred Space
While camping with my family in the summer of 1959, an 8 year old Don took off on a hike into the woods and discovered a bluff overlooking the bend in a river in the northern lower peninsula of Michigan. This place has captured my imagination ever since and whenever I visit I feel at home there. Being there brings me into the presence of the transcedent God and Mother Earth. Sitting on the bluff I feel small in the scheme of life and at the same time large in the knowledge that there is a unique yet significant role I am destined to play. I have returned to my special place several times and spend time there whenever I find my life in some kind of transition.
We need special places and sacred spaces because we need to step out of the rat race of life to focus and gain perspective. We need a place where all of life’s distractions can be left behind while we focus on the two most important relationships of our existence - our God and our inner self.
Special places and sacred spaces can take many forms, from an actual geographical place like my bluff overlooking the riverbend to an altar we've created in the corner of a room. Or it may be a mystical inner place we find and can return to through meditation.
This weekend's question...
Where is your special place or sacred space? How often do you go there? What does going there bring you?
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Cancer Sucks...
It has become real cool these days to sport at least one elastic band around your wrist. My family wears the yellow "Live Strong" wrist bracelet. We also wear buttons proclaiming "Cancer Sucks." My sister-in-law’s body is ravaged by 4th stage cancer.
It is a miracle she is still with us. The driving force in her valiant year-long battle is her 14 year old son whom she doesn’t want to leave without his mom. Like my aunt before her, she worked in the health care profession and should have recognized and acted upon the warning signs that tried to grab her attention. I'm sure things would have been handled differently if given the opportunity but life doesn’t give us "do overs."
Teresa’s life consists of trips every three weeks to the Cancer Treatment Center in Illinois for what is purportedly the most "kick ass"chemotherapy available. In between she is in and out of hospitals to deal with its complications. Now I have back problems that some day will require surgery so I have learned to live with pain but I wouldn’t embarrass myself by claiming to know the degree of pain my sister-in-law must endure every minute of her life. Then there’s the ancillary hardships that increase the burden, most pressing of which is trying to remain financially solvent in the face of rising medical bills. Computers that generate shut off notices could care less that you’re waging war for your very life.
Needless to say she gets discouraged. If you feel moved to send her a card to help lift her spirits, please send it to: Teresa Wiley, 203 Canal St., Augusta MI 49012. (It would be appreciated.)
What has happened to Teresa has been a wake-up call for me to cherish every moment and every opportunity that comes my way, to take nothing for granted. It has tempered my tendency to want to feel sorry for myself. It has given me a different perspective from which I determine my priorities. Today’s question is an invitation to share...
What wake-up calls have you received and how have they changed your life?
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
It is a miracle she is still with us. The driving force in her valiant year-long battle is her 14 year old son whom she doesn’t want to leave without his mom. Like my aunt before her, she worked in the health care profession and should have recognized and acted upon the warning signs that tried to grab her attention. I'm sure things would have been handled differently if given the opportunity but life doesn’t give us "do overs."
Teresa’s life consists of trips every three weeks to the Cancer Treatment Center in Illinois for what is purportedly the most "kick ass"chemotherapy available. In between she is in and out of hospitals to deal with its complications. Now I have back problems that some day will require surgery so I have learned to live with pain but I wouldn’t embarrass myself by claiming to know the degree of pain my sister-in-law must endure every minute of her life. Then there’s the ancillary hardships that increase the burden, most pressing of which is trying to remain financially solvent in the face of rising medical bills. Computers that generate shut off notices could care less that you’re waging war for your very life.
Needless to say she gets discouraged. If you feel moved to send her a card to help lift her spirits, please send it to: Teresa Wiley, 203 Canal St., Augusta MI 49012. (It would be appreciated.)
What has happened to Teresa has been a wake-up call for me to cherish every moment and every opportunity that comes my way, to take nothing for granted. It has tempered my tendency to want to feel sorry for myself. It has given me a different perspective from which I determine my priorities. Today’s question is an invitation to share...
What wake-up calls have you received and how have they changed your life?
May peace be with you and yours...
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Are We Guilty?
Many of you know that a couple of weeks ago I embarked upon a journey to write a book, a story I am sure was placed in my hands by God herself, a book God himself wants written. This exercise has renewed my appreciation for divine inspiration. I’ll admit the bias I bring to this project. I don’t buy the use of "because that’s the way we’ve always done it" as the sole justification for anything. I believe that any time one considers an issue, a dilemma or problem, maturity of judgement requires that there is no limit to what is placed on the table of consideration. Anything great that’s ever come at any point in history was born out of an open mind. With that said, here’s a little snippet...
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO JOHN M.
1 I didn’t set out to write a gospel. 2 But then I wasn’t expecting what happened when I visited the secret place of my childhood, a sacred space I always returned to when I found my life in transition. But more about that later. 3 What could I possibly have to say that hasn’t been said already by the four gospels of the current canon and an unfolding tradition covering two millenia? 4 But I was urged to take another look.
5 Instead of bringing the ancient and timeless truths of sacred texts forward, institutional religion at times seems more intent on placing its closed mind in a backpack and hiking back in time to justify itself. 6 I was reminded that we don’t have a gospel that concerns itself exclusively with recounting who Jesus was, what he had to say, what he asked us to consider doing and what happened to him as a result. 7 We have some of that in its purest form in the gospel of Mark which embellishes least upon the primary source Q known by all of the gospel writers. 8 By the time Matthew, Mark, Luke and John sat down to commit to writing what had been to that point an oral tradition, followers found themselves removed from eyewitnesses to the actual events that took place. 9 When they did write they faced particular challenges and circumstances that necessitated their intentional filtering of the story to address and answer those concerns. 10 The result I was told were texts that perhaps better reflected the birth and infancy of an institution than the story of the man who was its cornerstone.
Today’s question then is...
Is organized religion, our practice of faith, our religious experience, to any extent guilty of being concerned more with self-justification than it is with coming to know the heart, spirit and soul of Jesus? If so, where today do you see this playing out most?
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO JOHN M.
1 I didn’t set out to write a gospel. 2 But then I wasn’t expecting what happened when I visited the secret place of my childhood, a sacred space I always returned to when I found my life in transition. But more about that later. 3 What could I possibly have to say that hasn’t been said already by the four gospels of the current canon and an unfolding tradition covering two millenia? 4 But I was urged to take another look.
5 Instead of bringing the ancient and timeless truths of sacred texts forward, institutional religion at times seems more intent on placing its closed mind in a backpack and hiking back in time to justify itself. 6 I was reminded that we don’t have a gospel that concerns itself exclusively with recounting who Jesus was, what he had to say, what he asked us to consider doing and what happened to him as a result. 7 We have some of that in its purest form in the gospel of Mark which embellishes least upon the primary source Q known by all of the gospel writers. 8 By the time Matthew, Mark, Luke and John sat down to commit to writing what had been to that point an oral tradition, followers found themselves removed from eyewitnesses to the actual events that took place. 9 When they did write they faced particular challenges and circumstances that necessitated their intentional filtering of the story to address and answer those concerns. 10 The result I was told were texts that perhaps better reflected the birth and infancy of an institution than the story of the man who was its cornerstone.
Today’s question then is...
Is organized religion, our practice of faith, our religious experience, to any extent guilty of being concerned more with self-justification than it is with coming to know the heart, spirit and soul of Jesus? If so, where today do you see this playing out most?
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
What Are You Looking For?
Because there are multiple spiritual paths and each of us advances along the path of his choosing at different rates, we may not find such a common thread when considering what our number one spiritual need or hunger is. When I started to think of examples, I realized early on that such a list could be endless.
My number one spiritual hunger is for community. Since becoming a xanganian a month ago, I have met and connected with some of the most incredibly amazing people representing a vast diversity of spiritual maturity and insight. Although there can be some degree of satisfaction entering into "virtual" relationships or community, "knowing" these people has stirred a longing to surround myself with their likes. I wonder what it would be like if we could live together in a small village out in the middle of nowhere. What kind of community might be possible? Imagine being nurtured, inspired, recharged in such a place! I know such a community could help me rise and ascend to the next level.
Expressing my own greatest longing is in no way intended to stifle or limit your own reflection for it is in the richness of a diverse response that we find ourselves most enriched. In that spirit, today's question is:...
What is your number one spiritual need at this moment in your life? What represents your greatest spiritual hunger? What are you looking for?
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
My number one spiritual hunger is for community. Since becoming a xanganian a month ago, I have met and connected with some of the most incredibly amazing people representing a vast diversity of spiritual maturity and insight. Although there can be some degree of satisfaction entering into "virtual" relationships or community, "knowing" these people has stirred a longing to surround myself with their likes. I wonder what it would be like if we could live together in a small village out in the middle of nowhere. What kind of community might be possible? Imagine being nurtured, inspired, recharged in such a place! I know such a community could help me rise and ascend to the next level.
Expressing my own greatest longing is in no way intended to stifle or limit your own reflection for it is in the richness of a diverse response that we find ourselves most enriched. In that spirit, today's question is:...
What is your number one spiritual need at this moment in your life? What represents your greatest spiritual hunger? What are you looking for?
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Would Jesus Have Blogged?
Yesterday's discussion in The Theologian's Cafe focussed on whether xanga relationships helped or hindered real life relationships. Taking the discussion one step further, I began to wonder if God had sent a Jesus or Muhammad or Buddha to us today, would they have had a xanga? Would they have used their xanga to share their message? How would they have promoted their xanga?
Let's face it. Not too many of us nowadays make our living as fishermen. We don't walk or ride the back of an ass to journey to our place of worship. We don't challenge ourselves spiritually by going to the river bank to repent at the hands of a guy who eats locusts and wears camel skin. Quite frankly, folks back then couldn't possibly have imagined life as we know it today with blogs, cell phones and text messaging. Yet our spiritual quest takes us back to such a time and place to try to figure out what we are to do in the day and age in which we find ourselves.
I'd like to pose a series of questions based on this general theme...
If Jesus, Muhammad or Buddha walked among us today, would they have a xanga to help promote their teachings and their path? How would they promote their xanga? Would anyone notice? What today would trouble them the most? In a nutshell, what would their message be?
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Let's face it. Not too many of us nowadays make our living as fishermen. We don't walk or ride the back of an ass to journey to our place of worship. We don't challenge ourselves spiritually by going to the river bank to repent at the hands of a guy who eats locusts and wears camel skin. Quite frankly, folks back then couldn't possibly have imagined life as we know it today with blogs, cell phones and text messaging. Yet our spiritual quest takes us back to such a time and place to try to figure out what we are to do in the day and age in which we find ourselves.
I'd like to pose a series of questions based on this general theme...
If Jesus, Muhammad or Buddha walked among us today, would they have a xanga to help promote their teachings and their path? How would they promote their xanga? Would anyone notice? What today would trouble them the most? In a nutshell, what would their message be?
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Who Is Your Spiritual Mentor?
Yesterday many wrote in their xangas about their memories of 9/11 and its impact. As we searched our collective soul in its immediate aftermath, we enjoyed a heightened awareness of something that is ordinarily lacking in our experience - heroes. Real life heroes. We became acquainted with a lot of heroes as their stories were told and retold and the inspiration born of their heroism helped heal our nation.
I have noticed recently some xangas discussing their expectations of spiritual guides, advisors or mentors. Do these comments about what we would like to see in a good spiritual mentor suggest that there is currently a void? Who are our spiritual heroes?
My question today is:...
Do you have a spiritual mentor? If so, who is it? Would you be willing to tell the story of your spiritual mentor to inspire members of the xanga community in their spiritual growth?
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
I have noticed recently some xangas discussing their expectations of spiritual guides, advisors or mentors. Do these comments about what we would like to see in a good spiritual mentor suggest that there is currently a void? Who are our spiritual heroes?
My question today is:...
Do you have a spiritual mentor? If so, who is it? Would you be willing to tell the story of your spiritual mentor to inspire members of the xanga community in their spiritual growth?
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Life After Death
AN OPEN INVITATION TO ALL QUANTUM PHYSICISTS AND STRING THEORISTS: With the exception of allusions to your field by the likes of Wayne Dyer and Marianne Williamson, I plead relative ignorance and invite you to weigh in on the thoughts I share today.
Doesn’t science teach that all matter is made up of particles that are in constant motion? Nothing is static. All matter therefore is alive in the sense it is continuously in process, continuously unfolding. Even after I die and life as I know it expires, what remains is matter that will continue to evolve even as my physical body decomposes.
And how about that which I cannot see... my thoughts, my ideas, my feelings, my longings, my will? Most of us have experienced intuition at work, knowing or sensing something without seeing or without prior knowledge. How can this be unless these too are made up of particles and therefore enjoy an existence of their own? And if this is the case, then they too are continuous, in process, ever unfolding.
I am awed by the cyclical rhythm that encompasses nature. Living in the midwest, the seasons illustrate this rhythm for me each year as I take in the shoots, buds and blossoms of spring, the abundance and fullness of summer, the transformation and harvest of autumn and the dormancy and stillness of winter. I witness the mild, balmy freshness of spring’s wind and the refreshing nurture of her rain marking the season of newness and promise. I experience the brightness and warmth of summer’s sun call forth the season of activity, enjoyment and play. I feel the crispness of autumn’s air return and behold the unparalleled splendor of fall’s colorful fireworks ushering in the season of recollection and melancholy. I prepare to be blanketed by winter’s snowy darkness in the season of repose. Every year the seasons retell nature’s story of life and makes me a participant.
I also hold in wonder nature’s way of reconstituting herself. Every summer newscasts flash images of fighting wildfires out west. A trip to Wyoming in the fall of 2000 made it all real to me as I saw and was saddened by the magnitude of devastation. But what seems like death and destruction is actually nature renewing herself for in the midst of the charred scars left in the wake of disaster emerges the shoots of new life. In the midwest there are hints of the same renewal along countless paths taken by tornados. My faith reassures me we will witness the same along the gulf coast devastated by Katrina’s fury.
The testimony of nature both consoles me and enlightens me that even though I love life fully, I need never fear death. Death is never an end. It is merely another passage in the continual unfolding and renewal of life. I believe something of me existed before I was born and something of me, something very real, will live on even after my death.
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Doesn’t science teach that all matter is made up of particles that are in constant motion? Nothing is static. All matter therefore is alive in the sense it is continuously in process, continuously unfolding. Even after I die and life as I know it expires, what remains is matter that will continue to evolve even as my physical body decomposes.
And how about that which I cannot see... my thoughts, my ideas, my feelings, my longings, my will? Most of us have experienced intuition at work, knowing or sensing something without seeing or without prior knowledge. How can this be unless these too are made up of particles and therefore enjoy an existence of their own? And if this is the case, then they too are continuous, in process, ever unfolding.
I am awed by the cyclical rhythm that encompasses nature. Living in the midwest, the seasons illustrate this rhythm for me each year as I take in the shoots, buds and blossoms of spring, the abundance and fullness of summer, the transformation and harvest of autumn and the dormancy and stillness of winter. I witness the mild, balmy freshness of spring’s wind and the refreshing nurture of her rain marking the season of newness and promise. I experience the brightness and warmth of summer’s sun call forth the season of activity, enjoyment and play. I feel the crispness of autumn’s air return and behold the unparalleled splendor of fall’s colorful fireworks ushering in the season of recollection and melancholy. I prepare to be blanketed by winter’s snowy darkness in the season of repose. Every year the seasons retell nature’s story of life and makes me a participant.
I also hold in wonder nature’s way of reconstituting herself. Every summer newscasts flash images of fighting wildfires out west. A trip to Wyoming in the fall of 2000 made it all real to me as I saw and was saddened by the magnitude of devastation. But what seems like death and destruction is actually nature renewing herself for in the midst of the charred scars left in the wake of disaster emerges the shoots of new life. In the midwest there are hints of the same renewal along countless paths taken by tornados. My faith reassures me we will witness the same along the gulf coast devastated by Katrina’s fury.
The testimony of nature both consoles me and enlightens me that even though I love life fully, I need never fear death. Death is never an end. It is merely another passage in the continual unfolding and renewal of life. I believe something of me existed before I was born and something of me, something very real, will live on even after my death.
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Longing
I wonder what kind of objections (if any) would be raised if I were to claim that one of, if not the, most important goals in life is to find fulfillment... Fufillment of heart, spirit and soul. Fulfillment implies reaching my destination, achieving my goals. It indicates the end of the quest and the cessation of all longing and hunger. It seems that fulfillment is the harvest of the spiritual quest. But is fulfillment even possible? Does fulfillment exist?
Looking back at my childhood, whenever a birthday or Christmas neared, there was always one gift that I wanted more than any other. Something I just had to have. The toy that would complete my life. I was fortunate (or spoiled) to get that one gift most of the time. But something curious happened. "It" didn't turn out to be "all that." Not long after gaining that which I wanted most I found it no longer captured my interest or fascination. The one thing that was to have completed my life merely gave rise to the next longing.
This irony continued to play out as my life unfolded. When I graduated from high school and left the family nest to claim the world and greet my new life under the power of my own wings, I thought I was sure I had arrived. Fulfillment. But the initial taste of freedom and autonomy only gave rise to further longings. I set out to find success... a good job, a position of prominence, sufficient wealth to live a comfortable life.
But this didn't lead to fulfillment either. I discovered that, even if I were to acquire every possession I ever wanted, if I had no one to share it with I had nothing. And so my quest for fulfillment led me to look for a soul mate with whom I could build my own nest and raise a family. But fulfillment remained elusive and so I set out to show the world that it couldn't realize its full potential without me.
Is fulfillment possible? Certainly if fulfillment were real, it would be something GOD experiences. But does He? I can't imagine a Divine Creator or a Divine Author pausing to take a look at nature, the world and all that inhabits it, or even (or especially) humanity and feeling "fulfilled." There is no way the created reflects what GOD intended it to be. However disappointed, frustrated or yes, even angry, GOD hasn't given up on us yet. Thus not even GOD knows fulfillment. Instead He is driven by longing.
Longing is what keeps life unfolding in the direction of something that will remain beyond our reach - fulfillment. Longing gives birth to hope and dreams. Longing is what motivates us. Longing, not fulfillment, is the most important goal for without it we would cease to be.
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Looking back at my childhood, whenever a birthday or Christmas neared, there was always one gift that I wanted more than any other. Something I just had to have. The toy that would complete my life. I was fortunate (or spoiled) to get that one gift most of the time. But something curious happened. "It" didn't turn out to be "all that." Not long after gaining that which I wanted most I found it no longer captured my interest or fascination. The one thing that was to have completed my life merely gave rise to the next longing.
This irony continued to play out as my life unfolded. When I graduated from high school and left the family nest to claim the world and greet my new life under the power of my own wings, I thought I was sure I had arrived. Fulfillment. But the initial taste of freedom and autonomy only gave rise to further longings. I set out to find success... a good job, a position of prominence, sufficient wealth to live a comfortable life.
But this didn't lead to fulfillment either. I discovered that, even if I were to acquire every possession I ever wanted, if I had no one to share it with I had nothing. And so my quest for fulfillment led me to look for a soul mate with whom I could build my own nest and raise a family. But fulfillment remained elusive and so I set out to show the world that it couldn't realize its full potential without me.
Is fulfillment possible? Certainly if fulfillment were real, it would be something GOD experiences. But does He? I can't imagine a Divine Creator or a Divine Author pausing to take a look at nature, the world and all that inhabits it, or even (or especially) humanity and feeling "fulfilled." There is no way the created reflects what GOD intended it to be. However disappointed, frustrated or yes, even angry, GOD hasn't given up on us yet. Thus not even GOD knows fulfillment. Instead He is driven by longing.
Longing is what keeps life unfolding in the direction of something that will remain beyond our reach - fulfillment. Longing gives birth to hope and dreams. Longing is what motivates us. Longing, not fulfillment, is the most important goal for without it we would cease to be.
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Diversity
In some circles diversity is feared. Closely aligned with affirmative action, diversity is taken as a threat to the status and standing of the majority. Some people really believe that unless you look like or talk "American", you don't belong here. Lost in this view is any connection to the origins of our nation as the "melting pot" of the world.
The real gift and beauty of diversity is its inherent irony. It opens our mind to the richness of human experience and opens our eyes to the fact that, no matter how different from each other we may seem on the surface, we are fundamentally one united by the same longings of the heart. Imagine the impact genuine diversity could have on the face of the earth... if instead of fearing each other we embraced each other in partnership in this thing we call "life." Diversity is a spiritual value that cries out to be an alternative to the "do it the way of the mighty and powerful" attitude prevalent in today's world.
Sisters and brothers all are we!
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
The real gift and beauty of diversity is its inherent irony. It opens our mind to the richness of human experience and opens our eyes to the fact that, no matter how different from each other we may seem on the surface, we are fundamentally one united by the same longings of the heart. Imagine the impact genuine diversity could have on the face of the earth... if instead of fearing each other we embraced each other in partnership in this thing we call "life." Diversity is a spiritual value that cries out to be an alternative to the "do it the way of the mighty and powerful" attitude prevalent in today's world.
Sisters and brothers all are we!
© Copyright 2005 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
