Category Archives: Education

Education, Meditation, observations, Theology

I Had A Life, But My Job Ate It

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It was on the Jeep in front of me, read at a red light on Cranberry Highway. White letters on a blue background, on the bottom of the back door. When I saw it, I was thinking about the calls and emails I had to make today – trustee matters, first steps in a new library/school project, reminders for tomorrow’s meeting.

Earlier in the drive, it was thoughts of tomorrow’s Bible study: Hannah’s story. Before that, writing the mental list of things that need to be done in the learning garden before a service day brings a dozen or more high school learners into it.

I don’t think any of these tasks eat away at my life. I am happy with the time I spend on and at work. It adds something to my life, and it’s a way to serve God and neighbor. But I don’t have a forty hour a week job, or a fifty or sixty hour a week job. Or two jobs to keep a roof overhead. I have the time and energy to work for what I value rather than what pays bills. It has the disadvantage of no money, but the great blessing of time well spent.

If I were to put this bumper sticker on my car, I’d have to change it:

I Had A Job, But My Life Ate It

Education, Meditation, Prayer

Fairy Tale Life

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Confused and sad, he gazed with sick eyes into the many angry, disturbed, and spiteful faces, and in each one of them, he saw a hidden charm and a spark of affection that glimmered from beneath the hate and distortion. All these people had loved him at one time, and he had not loved any of them. Now he begged their forgiveness and sought to remember something good about each one of them.
Herman Hesse, “Augustus,” The Fairy Tales of Hermann Hesse, Jack Zipes, trans; New York: Bantam Books, 1995, p. 95

It’s “hell hath no fury” from the perspective of the scorner, not the scorned. But now Augustus is aware of the damage he’s done – the turning point in a fairy tale about a mother’s anxious wish, a godfather’s patience, and the cost of becoming pure of heart in a life of excess wealth, power, and ease. If you have the time for this twenty-six page tale, I hope you read it.

This is Hesse’s answer, or at least one of his answers, to what happens when every wish is granted, nothing must be earned, and there are no consequences to cruel, hurtful actions. It begins when Augustus’ mother says, “I wish that everyone will have to love you.”
Augustus grows up to be a selfish, cruel, and desperately lonely man because of this wish. Surrounded by everything he could possible want, he enjoys and appreciates none of it. Beloved by everyone, he feels no love. He lives the opposite of Saint Francis’ prayer: is it any wonder Augustus’ life is a living hell?

Love isn’t a fairy tale wish. It’s the face of God and the birthright of every living thing. It cannot be killed and it’s available in endless supply. But it’s only found in sharing with another – a person, animal, plant, whatever. Even in solitude, it’s shared with God. If Augustus’ mother had wished for her son to seek such love and offer such love to others, could his life be anything but splendid and holy?

If I seek such love and offer such love to others, could my life be anything but splendid and holy? Could yours?

Education, Meditation

End of the season

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For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what was planted…

Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 NRSV

Reading and Eating, the library’s summer reading program, ends this week. Heartfelt thanks to all who gave the program grants and volunteered time, a table of garden snacks, and a show by the Hula Hoop Lady will finish it up. A power point presentation will show children and adults in the garden, listening to stories, and making crafts. Families will turn to cool weather pursuits and school supply shopping. By next week, program supplies will be sorted and boxed. Leaders will review each day’s story and activities. Unripe tomatoes and still buried potatoes will be gathered without a children’s garden lesson or home made snack.

I’m going to miss my time as the library gardener. Finding squash and counting butterflies with preschoolers made the world new again in my eyes. Sharing recipes for herbed dipping oils and marinara was a joy – and a reminder of how fun it was to do these things with my own two sons in years past. This is a grace if anything is.

I’m ready to let this season go. It’s a lot of work to plan and prepare garden lessons every week. I’m tired of keeping track of the number of participants, of what worked and what didn’t, of saving receipts and recipes – all necessary for planning next year’s program. Other things need my attention and energy.

I’m happy with what grew in this year’s garden and even happier with the love of nature that’s grown in the children who came to water and gather. This season of growing the garden is ending, as it should. The season of growing young gardeners and nature lovers? Not so much. After all, seasons end and return to begin again. Who knows who might be tending this garden long after my season ends? If this summer is any indication, the garden is in great hands. So is the world.

Education, Meditation, Uncategorized

You don’t stand a chance

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You don’t stand a chance against my prayers

You don’t stand a chance against my love

[Robbie Robertson & the Red Road Ensemble, Ghost Dance, Music for The Native Americans, Capitol Records, 1994]

It’s a song about spiritual power and a restored land. Plains indians danced the Ghost Dance to resurrect the dead, heal the land and restore the its caretakers – the native peoples. Some believed it would get rid of the white people who had taken away their way of life, starting a political revolution that would restore peace. Others believed that the peaceful, non-violent behavior it engendered would restore political peace. Either way, it came from remarkable spiritual visions and it brought hope to people in desperate need and dire circumstances.

In December of 1890, at Wounded Knee, hundreds came to dance the Ghost Dance. Believing that their dance would protect them, even from bullets, they danced the outlawed dance. A gun went off, United States Army soldiers panicked, and soon 250 or so men, women, and children were dead.

There is no magic song that can stop bullets from tearing into living flesh. There is no dance that can bring peace to people whose lands and cultures have been banned. But what if the dance is a prayer?

Prayer isn’t magic, but it’s powerful. It can bring peace and forgiveness. It can and does create a new world. Praying for those who harm us may not save our lives, but it can lift our enemies into the embrace of God. On this side of life or the other, no one stands a chance against the power of love. Who’s to say when such prayers will create heaven on earth?

Education, Meditation, Theology, Uncategorized

God only knows

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I may not always love you,

but as long as there are stars above you,

you never need to doubt it,

I’ll make you so sure about it.

[Brian Wilson, The Beach Boys, God Only Knows, The Sounds of Summer, 2003]

Downloaded from iTunes, 2010

I bought it for my ipod years ago with the itunes card that it came with. It’s simple in words and music. There isn’t a pretentious note or false word, and the vocals are amazing. It is such an easy song to sing that I sometimes forget how very difficult it is to create this kind of simplicity.

I think the same is true of love. It looks simple on the outside, but it takes a lot of work. Harmony isn’t easy. It takes listening to someone else, accommodating another just as someone does for me. It’s a lot of work and it can get repetitive.

I can sing these words to a few people on this earth and really mean it. There are a few who have made and kept such promises to me. As long as there are stars above you and me, I hope I never take them for granted. If there’s anything like heaven on earth, this is surely a glimpse of it.

Education, Meditation, Prayer, Theology

Incomparable Goodness

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We bless you, O God, most high and Lord of mercy. You are always doing great and inscrutable things with us, glorious and wonderful, and without number. You grant us sleep for rest from our infirmities, and repose from the burdens of our much toiling flesh. We thank you, for you have not destroyed us with our sins, but have continued to love us; and though we were sunk in despair, you have raised us up to glorify your power. Therefore, we implore your incomparable goodness. Enlighten the eyes of our understanding and raise up our minds from the heavy sleep of indolence. Open our mouth and fill it with your praise, that we may be able without distraction to sing and confess that you are God, glorified in all and by all, the eternal Father, with your only begotten Son, and your all holy, good, and life giving Spirit, now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen. [Daily Prayers for Orthodox Christians (Brookline, Massachusetts: The Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1986), pp. 9-10]

Therefore, we implore your incomparable goodness. Line Five

We are created by a God who loves us. Our shortcomings can’t separate us from God’s love. The worst parts of us don’t condemn us to isolation – even these God can transform, granting us compassion and teaching us to do the same for others. So we ask God for the grace and power to live our lives in such trust that our broken selves reveal God’s love and compassion. Such a serious request, asking for divine incomparable goodness to fill our hearts so full that it becomes our goodness offered to others. Such a wonderful, hopeful, blessed way to begin the day.

Education, Prayer, Theology

With, not For

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You are always doing great and inscrutable things with us, glorious and wonderful, and without number.

I am aware of glorious and wonderful things that God does for me every morning I wake up to family and friends, every afternoon I work in the garden, every evening when the stars shine in heaven above. But with us isn’t the same thing as for us. I’m sure God is always doing great and inscrutable things with me/us, but usually I don’t look for them. With means working together, not one giving and the other getting. With means cooperation and taking responsibility, perhaps even partial credit, for the innumerable wonders that come into the world through us/God with us.

This is the second line of this 1600 year old prayer, and the second one that’s shaken me. If I take it seriously, if I really pray these words, there is no going back. I’ll see the great and inscrutable things God is doing with us in people I love and people I don’t even like. Not just a few things I can count on one hand (exceptions), but so many that they are without number (commonplace).

Lord, give me courage to pray these revolutionary words.
Prayer of Saint Basil
We bless you, O God, most high and Lord of mercy. You are always doing great and inscrutable things with us, glorious and wonderful, and without number. You grant us sleep for rest from our infirmities, and repose from the burdens of our much toiling flesh. We thank you, for you have not destroyed us with our sins, but have continued to love us; and though we were sunk in despair, you have raised us up to glorify your power. Therefore, we implore your incomparable goodness. Enlighten the eyes of our understanding and raise up our minds from the heavy sleep of indolence. Open our mouth and fill it with your praise, that we may be able without distraction to sing and confess that you are God, glorified in all and by all, the eternal Father, with your only begotten Son, and your all holy, good, and life giving Spirit, now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen.
[Daily Prayers for Orthodox Christians (Brookline, Massachusetts: The Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1986), pp. 9-10]

Biblical Reflection, Chapters in the Book of Life 2016, Education, Meditation

Crossing Paths, Chance Encounters

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New Year’s Eve, 1989, I went out with good friends. We were on different paths, but so glad those paths had crossed. We decided to meet in Portsmouth for a glass of champagne every year, as many of us that could.

A few weeks later, Deb began training as a physical therapist; Bonnie continued to build her portfolio for graphic design; Jen moved to Boston and an interior design program; Lauren and I both went out of state – for her a corporate position in North Carolina, for me a seminary program in New Jersey. While each of us kept up with our friends who stayed local when we returned home, distance, schedules, and finances didn’t allow us time together.

In New Jersey, I worked at a Mexican restaurant a short walk from my dorm. Late Friday night before Christmas, Lauren walked in. She was driving back to North Carolina, her brother happened to catch a basketball game in town, and they dropped in for dinner on a whim. We got our holiday toast and a happy reunion – my first and best Christmas present that year. An hour later, we were in our cars heading in opposite directions.

Two days later, Lauren’s mother called me. Would I be interested in working as a counselor for teens in a residence program for a semester? She wanted to fill that position before she left hers as the program’s director at the end of the week. Lauren had told her about our chance encounter. We met the next day, I took the position; she left at the end of that week before I began.

I told this story to my friends over a new year’s brunch. All of us agreed that Jung was right: synchronicity is real. But I think it’s more than just expected and important encounters. Sometimes, crossing paths changes the whole journey. A decision to keep in touch, an unplanned late night encounter, a job leaving and a position filled: my life story would be very different without those crossing paths and chance encounters. Change the story, change the blessing. I’m grateful beyond words for the story I’ve lived – and for the crossed paths that brought blessing into its chapters.

Education, Meditation

Rules

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Many years ago, I took my young sons Trick-or-Treating. I would take them to the houses with the outside lights on and skip those that weren’t, following the traditional Halloween rules and teaching them to my children. Everything went as it usually does on Halloween – candy and costumes, laughs and glow-in-the-dark bracelets – until we got to the white house with the wrought iron fence. Lights were on, inside and out, so we went up to the door and rang the bell. No one came. After a minute, my son rang the bell again. “I can hear it ringing,” he said, but no one came. “Try knocking,” I said. No one came. After another minute, we walked away. “That’s not fair. They have their lights on,” my other son said. For several Halloweens after, my sons would talk about the rule breakers in the white house; oddly enough, they never said a word about the lights off houses. It was the rule breaking that bothered them, not missing out on treats.

The lights off/lights on Halloween house rule is a great way to know who wants costumed children at the door and who doesn’t. Most people abide by this rule because it’s practical and convenient, not because it has moral weight or importance. Breaking with custom or habit may make things awkward, but unless real harm is intended or inflicted, there is no need to harbor resentment. I suspect the same can be said for many of the social rules I hold dear.

When my sons came home from school today (high school and middle school), I brought up that Halloween incident. It took them a few moments to remember it, and they moved on to another topic within a minute. No negative comments, no judgment, and no interest in past sins. They had moved on. When a social rule I value is disregarded, especially when no harm has come, I hope I can do the same.

Education, Meditation, Prayer

Pauses

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The lightning and thunder have passed, and the downpour is now a soft rain. Everything’s plugged back in. The two hour electric hiatus is over.

Aunt Norma’s memorial service was on Saturday morning in Eliot, Maine. My three cousins and three siblings have taken up their routines again, as have my parents. The three hours for remembering and sharing as a family are over.

Not much causes a significant pause these days: sickness, vacation, birth, death, weather, a weekly church service for some. The blue laws are long gone. Society no longer has a mandated sabbath that offers a weekly break in business-as-usual. Only a major happening or presentation puts a comma in life’s sentence these days.

A big exception to this is a library. Walking through its doors is walking out of the world’s busyness. Books, chairs, artwork, and people of all ages inhabit this calm and quiet place. Without raised voices or a show of strength, librarians keep the peace and help each person find just the right poem or novel. The only quick footsteps come as little children find their seats for story time. It is a gentle place, quietly offering the knowledge of the ages to patrons of every age.

For whatever reason, usually I’m unwilling to grow or change without a lot of noise and flash; I might even convince myself that I can’t grow or change without blaring and glaring events. But my weekly walk through the library doors – the place of still, small voices – begs to differ. Great big worlds are beckoning quietly – an invitation to pause and grow hiding in my weekly schedule. It is a place for seeing God’s great big world and finding my place in it. How about you?