Category Archives: Meditation

Pruning

I am the Real Vine and my Father is the Farmer. He cuts off every branch of me that doesn’t bear grapes. And every branch that is grape-bearing he prunes back so it will bear even more. You are already pruned back by the message I have spoken. John 15:1-3, The Message

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. John 15:1-3, NRSVue

The front yard is surrounded by a hedge, a living fence offering separation from the street and a home for small wildlife. Once a year, I take my pruners to it, thinning out maple saplings and other vines. The dead branches go next. But it’s the rest of it that’s so much more difficult: pruning off healthy branches to allow light to penetrate the top leaves, and to keep the sides as well as the top of the shrubs green.

Next week, I’ll be taking the pruners to the hedge for the first time in over two years. Skipping last year’s pruning didn’t make the hedge happier or healthier; it made the hedge scragglier and overgrown.

It’s a lot of work, this pruning, and not for the faint of heart or the overly sentimental. The results, at first, aren’t pretty. It’s only over time that pruning reveals itself as a necessary and good thing. New growth and healthier branches take time.

Lately, it feels to me like my life is in the process of being pruned – some things that no longer work for my age and stage are getting cut away. There doesn’t seem to be a particular logic in it, and it isn’t pretty or a lot of fun. I just have to trust that it will end up bearing some kind of fruit in due time.

Soon to be pruned…

Beginning with the Elders

[Jesus bend down and wrote with his finger in the dirt…He straightened up and said, “The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone.” Bending down again, he wrote some more in the dirt.] Hearing that, they walked away, one after another, beginning with the oldest. The woman was left alone. John 8:9, The Message

When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. John 8:9, NRSVue

Perhaps some wisdom comes with age, or at least a healthy dose of self-reflection. Maybe that’s why the oldest among the rock toting crowd were the first to step back from their violent intent. It’s a gift to be able to step away from harming another, from using another as a means to a questionable end. They took the gift Jesus offered and others followed suit.

I’m now in that same category – elder. Along with the creakier joints comes the freedom to turn back, to turn away from a wrong step down a questionable path. There isn’t quite as much at stake as far as my ego is concerned in admitting to an error in judgement.

There’s an added bonus: stepping back and rethinking a harmful act or wrong move is also a teaching moment for the younger ones who happen to see it.

Words in the Dirt

Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger in the dirt. They kept at him, badgering him. He straightened up and said, “The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone.” Bending down again, he wrote some more in the dirt. John 8:6-8, The Message

Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. When they kept questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once again, he bent down and wrote on the ground. John 8:6-8, NRSVue

We don’t know what Jesus wrote in the dirt, just that he wrote in the dirt. Some speculate that he wrote the names of the men accusing the woman of adultery, along with their sins. Others claim he wrote the Ten Commandments, giving the accusers a look at what the Law requires – and whether they are in compliance [Augustine interpreted it as Jesus forcing the accusers to look at their own sinful natures and deem whether they are worthy of judging another.]. John Calvin offered this thought: Jesus was showing his lack of interest in their accusations and questions, showing his disdain for them by scribbling in the dirt rather than engage with them.

It’s fun to imagine what Jesus might have written in the dirt, if it doesn’t distract from what that act of writing accomplished. It stopped the momentum, delaying the throwing of the first stone that would give permission for throwing all the rest.

When Jesus straightens up and speaks, his words shift the focus from the woman to the state of the accusers’ souls: Go ahead, throw the stone – if you are without sin yourself. Take a good look at yourself before you harm another. Are your motives pure? Are you without blame? Let’s see if you come forward, see if you can stand up to the scrutiny of others.

Then Jesus bends down to write in the dirt again – giving the accusers the chance to think before acting, to question their right to judge and punish the sins of another. And to think through the consequences of claiming moral perfection and throwing a stone.

It’s something I’m going to picture – Jesus writing in the dirt – when I’m sitting in judgement of another. I’ll imagine Jesus stopping the momentum, shifting the focus to my own inner life and motives, and giving me a chance to go in a different direction.

I think I’ll picture these words for now, not that it really matters all that much: are you sure you want to throw that stone?

Collateral Damage

Jesus went across to Mount Olives, but he was soon back in the Temple again. Swarms of people came to him. He sat down and taught them.

The religious scholars and Pharisees led in a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery. They stood her in plain sight of everyone and said, “Teacher, this woman was caught red-handed in the act of adultery. Moses, in the Law, gives orders to stone such persons. What do you say?” They were trying to trap him into saying something incriminating so they could bring charges against him. John 8:1-5, The Message

They were looking for a way to get Jesus to say or do something against the law, so they find a woman committing adultery (why is only the woman brought in? That’s another discussion.). They had no real interest in her adultery: she was just a means to an end. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were blind to her worth, her humanity, her life.

Sometimes people get so caught up in defeating an enemy, in winning, that they are blind the collateral damage:

The lives that are lost in the pursuit.

The damage to their own souls that comes with every thrown stone.

[And the story will continue… John 8. This is one in a series of writings. For more information, click Picturing John above.]

I Am, I Am Not

This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” He confessed and did not deny it, but he confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ “ as the prophet Isaiah said. John 1:19-23, NRSVue

…tell us something – anything!- about yourself.” [John said] “I’m thunder in the desert: ‘Make the road straight for God!’ I”m doing what the prophet Isaiah preached.” John 1:23, The Message

John didn’t need to pretend to be what he was not – a Messiah or a prophet returned to life. It seems that being himself was enough, more than enough for John to say what he was put on the earth to say.

I am a voice crying out, thunder in the desert. Make the road straight for God!

All of us have a voice. All of us are a voice. The question is: do we know ourselves well enough, who we are and who we are not, to say what we were put on this earth to say?

Inertia

A busy couple of weeks and some dismal weather has interrupted my usual outdoor activity. I haven’t walked the half mile to the post office – or the half mile to the grocery and drug stores. I’ve caught up on some paperwork and correspondence, and read a couple of books. These are all good things, but all sedentary. Even though I value my outdoor time, I find that spending too much time parked on the couch leads to more time parked on the couch.The laws of physics apply to me: my body at rest tends to stay at rest.

Why is it that my life balance is so easily knocked over? It’s not as if I’m avoiding things I don’t like – I’m avoiding things I love because I’ve gotten used to not doing them. And it’s not just physical activity. If I skip my prayer time, my writing time, my connecting with friends and family time, it’s easy to drop them from my life pattern. It requires intention to start up again.

If I grow into my larger self, perhaps this will change. But, I haven’t achieved personal perfection yet. I’m still a work in progress, and it’s still work to return to a more balanced life. How about you?

Work In Progress

Necessary Supplies

The front steps finally gave up after seventy years of loyal service. They were falling apart, listing to the right, with one step separating from another. Beyond repair, they were removed Wednesday morning.

It’s important, this set of stairs that connects home to the world. It needs to be solid, not too slippery when rain and ice fall, and it needs to look like it belongs on the front of this 1950’s Cape.

It’s a lot of work, this clearing out what is no longer working, this replacing connections. It requires time and effort, and no small amount of skill. And it won’t last forever.

That sounds a lot like life…let’s take a look…

[Part of the Work In Progress series. Click the tab above for more information.]

Theological Perspective

Theology was considered the queen of the sciences in Europe a few centuries back. The assumption was that every field of study would support the Church’s current vision of the Christian God and creation.

Then came the Enlightenment, a heliocentric solar system, the periodic table of elements, and a Big Bang origin for all of it. Theology wasn’t the queen of the sciences: it was just bad science.

Then came divorce. Science would take care of the how‘s of it all while theology would confine itself to the why‘s. Impartial observation would offer answers to the former, morality codes and religious practices would lead to answers for the latter.

That got washed away by the observer effect – that scientific results were influenced by how scientists chose to observe something. (electrons and protons would appear to be particles or waves, depending on the observer’s choices). Heisenberg found that a particle’s position and momentum couldn’t be determined at the same time, and the Uncertainty Principle was born. Scientific knowledge was inherently limited by its own practice – by the limits of the people involved.

Theology, at its best, offers some insight into all this. All of life is God created and God related. It’s from this perspective that humans live, move, and seek answers to the great mysteries of the universe and the soul. God is not a big, beloved object in a humanly constructed world. Humans are beloved creatures in God’s world, held by divine love and living in this mysterious creation.

When we accept that how and what we see are bound to our limited perspective, we lose the illusion of Godlike power and understanding. But with luck, we just might gain the wisdom to see the miraculous nature of all that is, was and ever will be. Whether you look at the stars from your back porch or through the Hubble telescope.

SPACETIMESPACETIMESPACETIME

SP ti AC me E

I can recall a lot of my early life because I moved from place to place. The trash cans floating down the street after a flood were in Mississippi, so I was three years old (1967). Christmas with my grandparents was right before I turned four, during the weeks between Mississippi and Hawaii (also 1967). I was four when I used to see Mr. Yokoyama (1968) walk to work – that was in Hawaii. Stopping at a Texas rest stop to have a drink of water happened when I was barely five (Winter 1969)- it was during the drive across country on the move back to the mainland. Where I was and when I was are easier to determine because the wheres changed every year and a half.

sp TI ac ME e

But there were some years when too many moves in too short a time blur together. My sister and I were in three different school systems in three different states one year – and ended it in a return to one of them to finish the school term. I lived in four different places in two states between my first and second semesters in seminary. Few of the details from those times are solid enough to grasp, and all that remains is a cloudiness that hangs between two more distinct times and spaces.

StPiAmCeE

Space and time are intertwined, sometimes offering clarity and sometimes made more obscure because of that entanglement. Sometimes this melding anchors my life, sometimes it unmoors it. Either way, it reveals just how profound spacetime is in life.

There’s a lesson here, if I care to learn it. This life grows in particular space and time. The walls and roof that keep me warm, the chairs drawn up to the table for a meal, and the spot I occupy when I pray are where I seek God, and where God meets me. The ordinary time that finds me at work, making dinner, or gathering myself for prayer before anyone else is awake is when I encounter neighbor, self, and God. It makes it a lot easier to let go of the illusion that none of the particulars really matter; it also makes it a whole lot easier to love those particulars, imperfect and ultimately transitory as they may be…

spacetimespacetimespacetimespacetimespacetimespacetimespacetime

Timely

According to Isaac Newton, absolute time exists independently from anyone perceiving it, and it progresses at a constant pace throughout the universe.

According to Albert Einstein, time is not absolute, but intertwined with space and affected by gravity and speed (he also believed that the separation of past, present, and future was a “stubbornly persistent illusion”).

Stephen Hawking held that time began at the Big Bang, along with everything else.

The arrow of time moves from the past toward the future. There is no reversing of time’s arrow.

In my everyday life, time behaves as Newton’s independent dimension. It marches on, regardless of what’s going on in my life. I age a year at the same rate, whether I’m twenty going on twenty-one or eighty-four going on eighty-five. The clocks keep ticking and I move from cradle to grave.

But at the extremes – subatomic or cosmically large – time gets wonky. It’s so married to space that it becomes one half of a compound name: spacetime (space/time, space-time, you get the drift).

But scientists aren’t the only ones vexed by time. Philosophers and theologians were dealing with this headache long before modernity: is time an internal sense of duration, or an ordered relation of events? Is the time I experience, which isn’t quite so orderly or constant [sitting in traffic for 20 minutes feels a lot longer than watching a 45ish minute episode of Doctor Who (Okay, the old ones were 25 minutes, but you get the Time And Relative Dimensions In Space drift)], as real as the time that passes in orderly minutes and hours? How does God fit into time, stand outside of time, create time, enter time, redeem time, sustain time? What about past, present, and future – are they real, or something that helps me keep what I’ve done, what I’m doing, and what I might do in some kind of order? Yikes!

But if I take a deep breath, then really consider time, something emerges out of all this talk – something as profound as it is simple: my time is limited. Whether time exists in creation or outside it really doesn’t affect the reality of my own personal expiration date. My moments pass and cannot be regained. Soon enough, I’ll return to the dust from which I was made.

A lot of things I might consider important drop away when I accept and embrace the limited time I have on this earth. Letting go of jealousy, sarcasm, and one-upmanship becomes easier. Loving what does count – love, kindness, joy, others – just might get a little easier, too.

My favorite Grateful Dead song, melodic and wise…