Longing for Childhood

    Today as I sat in my office and heard one of the kids in our children's center crying his eyes out, I realized that there are things I really miss about being a child.  Okay, yes, I realize that sounds odd: I'm hearing a child crying and I'm missing childhood.  But at the moment that I had that realization, I truly wished I could have been crying my eyes out too.  There are too many moving parts in my life right now and expenses piling up this month that are deeply worrying.  I have felt like I can't draw breath over the last few days because of all the many different things that have demanded my attention: sick kids needing to go to urgent care, the car breaking down again, the cat also needing to go to the cat eye doctor (an hour's drive away) for possible melanoma of the eye, helpers hired for a problem with our backyard who need to be supervised and paid, window shades and material for drapes needing to be bought to block out the intense heat that's been making our kitchen and family room into a sauna, people in my circle of influence being hurt and offended who need consolation, compassion and perhaps a different understanding of comments and events, issues at Presbytery that need addressing yesterday, trips out to the airport and even an overnight "step away" that just went wrong as well as my regular work...And all of this hit at once.  

    As I sat listening today to the boy crying I thought, I want to be able to do that.  I don't want to have to be responsible in every single moment, following the rules and expectations when I just would rather be having a temper tantrum and hoping someone like the teacher outside with the crying boy was there to hold and comfort me.  

    I miss other things from childhood too: daily nap time, snack times that don't add pounds to one's body, the tiny squabbles that erupt from concerns no bigger than who gets to play with what toy in this moment rather than over how to pay the bills.  I miss being able to just be whoever I am, and say whatever crosses my mind rather than needing to be thoughtful and intentional about saying the right thing in the right way.  It's exhausting striving always to live up to others' expectations as well as my own.  I miss being able to just BE. 

    Don't you feel that way at times too?

    I found myself saying to my kids today that I look forward to retirement because at that point I'm just going to say what I want to say and act how I want to act, but I know it's not true.  That time of being exactly who we are and saying exactly what we want to say has passed.  It was a gift we didn't recognize we had when we had it, and now it is gone.  I care too much about what other people think and feel to be able to return to that obliviousness or carelessness.  I don't ever want to be someone who is thoughtless in the face of other's potential pain, so I won't choose that, ever.

    But the reflection today did give me two gifts.

     First, it caused me to think about what gifts I currently have that I take for granted and will miss at a later time.  One of those is having meaningful work.  I need to be more appreciative of this time when I can and do work.  Another is a functioning body that allows me to exercise and move in the ways I want.  I also still have a sharp mind, and that too may not be permanent.  I need to pause and remember that these gifts, like all gifts, are temporary and fleeting.  I need to appreciate them now.

    Second, I found myself thinking about how to reclaim some of those things that I am missing from childhood.  How can I express myself more honestly, but in a way that is not damaging or hurtful to others?  Can I take five minutes to cry my eyes out before returning to my work, just to give myself permission to have those feelings and to express them?  How can I create room for my needs as well as the many pressing needs of my family, work and friends?  How can I create some space to step back and breathe?  

    Each age has different gifts.  Recognizing them now can be a gift in itself.  Recognizing them in hindsight can give us insights into what is missing from our current lives that call us to change, to try something different, to adjust.  My yearning today for those earlier, easier times of childhood was a bit of a wake-up call to make some adjustments in my life.  What are your yearnings and longings saying to you?

Trinity Sunday

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31

Romans 5:1-5

John 16:12-15

            Today is trinity Sunday, when we look at and celebrate the fact that God is one but also somehow three.  But today, rather than focusing on the whole trinity, I want us to spend some time focusing on the third person of the trinity, the Spirit, the one who is most neglected, least understood and often ignored by Presbyterians in particular who feel that anything that touches on the spirit is somehow too “catholic” and therefore is scary or unorthodox or too “mysterious”.  Presbyterians are traditionally the most intellectual or thinking oriented of all of the denominations.  We are the only one that insists that its pastors learn to read both Hebrew and Greek so that we can read the Bible in its original languages.  We are one of the few denominations that have a four year master’s of divinity program rather than three.  Our study focuses on history and historical critical biblical interpretation.  We study, study, study.  And we are taught to preach sermons that are very serious and very academic.  That’s what it is to be Presbyterian.  And this works great with our understanding of two persons of the trinity.  We can intellectually understand God the creator, the one who is ultimately in charge of everything, who creates, who bends, who acts through history.  We can intellectually understand the teachings of Jesus and his commands to follow through the concrete actions of caring for one another.  We can understand at a head level that keeps it all above our hearts, above our souls, above our spirits, these two persons of the trinity. 

But the Spirit, the third person of the trinity cannot be understood this way.  So, many Presbyterians tend to ignore the spirit except as an intellectual concept, as an idea about something that is part of the trinity.  We feel suspicious of anything religious that is more experiential.  And there are good reasons for this.  We don’t want to be misled by our feelings, and we certainly don’t want to be out of control in any way.  We know that being out of our heads and into our feelings or experiences can and does lead people astray.  The power of most cults is that they tap into and manipulate our feelings.  We know that the Pentecostals are all about the experience of the mystery, of the divine and we choose, intentionally, not to be Pentecostal in any way.

            But we have gone too far.  There is a reason why Presbyterians are called the “frozen chosen”, and while we may laugh at this name, there is far too much truth in it.

            We are called to love God with all of our being – all our strength, all our mind, all our soul, AND all our hearts.  And that means engaging the mystery at times, inviting in the third person of the trinity, the Spirit, spending time with this third Holy person and listening for what the Spirit may have to say to you.

            It’s not that this is easy…including for me.  I had a friend who was very involved in more traditionally ritualistic church service styles such as are practiced in the Catholic and Orthodox traditions.  We had several discussions about how important and meaningful the rituals of those practices were for him, and for me how much they felt like “magic” actions – unreal, pretend and lifting up pastors as capable of doing divine magic in some way.  But still, engaging the mystery, dealing with the third person of the trinity, exploring the gifts of the Spirit is an important part of our faith journeys. 

            So, how do we do this?  Well, spirit experiences tend to be more mystical, as I said.  Getting ourselves into a place where we can sit and listen for and to the Spirit is not as easy for us as listening to someone talk about God, or studying God through Bible study, or singing about God.  But inviting the Spirit into our life necessitates taking time to listen.  We can do this through lectio divina (a guided practice of listening to scripture in a different way)– or meditation of different kinds.  And Clayton Valley P.C. regularly offers many different ways to do this.  We have the labyrinth, which invites an active meditative practice of listening for the Spirit.  Tai chi can also lead us into this as well as music, both of which we offer and practice here.  We have Taize services which invite us to sit and listen.  Sometimes simply creating a different space – one with candles or scents such as incense or flowers, involving more meditative music such as is used in Taize services invite us into a new space of listening for the spirit.  Today because our focus is on the Spirit, we are using more candles and will conclude today’s sermon with the singing of a Taize songs.  This may feel uncomfortable for some of you.  If so, I think that is a good thing – a gift.  Because the Spirit does not leave us comfortable, but challenges us to grow, to move and listen and hear in a different way.  It calls us to listen with our hearts as well as our heads, to love God with our experiences as well as with our attendance, to connect with the third person of the trinity, the one we often ignore, because that third person is also God – and also calls us to ourselves and invites us into relationship with Godself.

            I encourage you strongly to attend a Taize service if you haven’t.  I encourage you to come to the Tai Chi classes if you haven’t.  I encourage you to find ways to daily spend time listening and connecting to the Spirit who loves you and calls for connection with you. Walk the labyrinth.  Journal.  Walk in the park.  But spend time, not only with the God above (or parent) and God in Jesus.  Spend time with the Spirit as well, for Jesus sent us this advocate to be with us and in us and to speak to us when we listen. 

            A pastor friend once said to me, “the less we understand, the more true it is”.  The less we understand, the more true it is.  And again, I think he is pointing out that the deep truths, the deepest truths are things we experience in mystery – are truths we encounter through our hearts and actions rather than just through our thoughts and conversations.  Not that our thoughts and conversations aren’t important.  They are.  But they may not lead us as strongly or clearly into the heart of God.  If we connect with God only intellectually, we are missing the heart connection to God.  And, just as with our human relationships, it is our heart connections that lead us to each other, that bind us and make us strong together, more than our head connections. 

            Towards that end, I would like to invite you to sit for a few minutes of silence, to listen for God today in the quiet.  When thoughts come into your head, listen, let them go and listen some more.  Try to experience God in a new way.  For that is what the Spirit it all about.  Amen.

What is Love?

      I've found myself thinking about love a great deal lately.  We all want to be loved deeply and unconditionally.  But what does that mean?  When I think of love in its purest form, I really value the definition of Scott Peck who says something along the lines of "to love someone is to want and to work for that person's highest good."  I value that definition of love because it is all about the person who is being loved.  It is focused on them: on what is best for them.  It is deeply caring, deeply concerned, deeply empathetic as it requires really knowing the other, really seeing the other, and really valuing the other as the unique person that they are.  We all want to be loved this way: for ourselves.  We want to be appreciated, we want to be cherished.  We want to be seen and understood, to be the focus of someone's attention and affection.

      I believe most parents strive to love their children in this way: to love them for exactly who they are, to want what is best for them, and to work for their highest good. When we hear about parents rejecting their children, for whatever reason, we recognize it for the tragedy and travesty that it is.  We know those parents are not fulfilling their job as unconditionally loving care-givers.  And we see the devastation that results in the suicides and chronic depression that far too often follows parental rejection.  When parental love happens the way it is supposed to, we know it to be the truest and deepest form of love.

       We also envision this kind of love coming from the Divine, from God, whatever we understand that to be.  This love is a selfless, and unconditional caring for the other.  From God we expect that love to see us fully for who we are, to know us completely, and especially, to understand and accept and value us exactly as we are.  That is the ultimate in love.  And when we talk about being called by faith to love one another, this is the kind of love of which we speak.  We are mandated to see, care and have compassion for each other, expecting and wanting nothing in return, even as we work for the highest good of the other.

      But there are other ways in which we usually use the word "love" that I think require a different word altogether.  We often use the word "love" in relationship to romantic attachments, for example.  But this kind of love is not unconditional, and it is far from selfless.  It is a kind of "love" that wants, hopes and expects to be returned.  It is a "love" that is seeking something for the self, a kind of barter-love in which I will care for you if and when you care for me.  And at the point at which you stop caring for me, I will do everything I can to stop caring for you in return because this kind of love feels pain when it is not returned in the same way.  This thing we call love is a desire for something for ourselves - an intimacy, a connection and a care from the other.  It is motivated by self-interest and a yearning for closeness.  It is limited by circumstances and qualified by a trade in affection that we hope will be even.  It is everything the kind of love we hope for from God or from parents is not.  We often idolize this kind of love.  But less and less do I see this as ideal.  Yes, we need relationships.  Yes, we need mutuality.  Yes, we need intimacy.  But is this love?  Not the way I understand it.  Not the way we are called to offer it.  

      The same is true of friendships.  Most friendships require a mutuality, a give and take, a trading of affections for them to be considered "loving".  "Love" in a friendship is conditional upon trust, mutuality and commonalities. But again, this is not "Love" the way we are called to give it.

      I believe all of the deepest spiritual leaders model the first, ideal love for us, but since I am most familiar with Jesus, I will point out some of the ways in which he did this, calling us to do the same.

      First of all, he never demanded that someone change before loving or caring for them.  He loved them and that allowed some people to change, but the love, the unconditional love, always came first.  He prevented the stoning of the woman caught in adultery before inviting her to change.  He offered healing water to the woman at the well before telling her her past history.  He offered to eat with Zacchaeus without reservation or comment and Zacchaeus chose to change as a result.  He healed the ten lepers, even though only one returned to give thanks.  Again and again, he offered care and love unconditionally and fully.  That love was so great and so transformative that it invited people to grow, but it never insisted on it.

     Second, he offered the care that wanted the highest good for everyone, even those trying to hurt him.  He never refused to respond to the pharisees, he never turned against the soldiers who arrested him with violence, he ate in the homes of friends and foes alike.  He was always willing to engage people, wherever they came from on the political or theological or social spectrum because he wanted the highest good for all people, all of them - even when they were seeking to destroy him.

     Third, that care, that work towards the highest good took many forms, depending on the one in front of him.  Some needed healing.  Others needed lessons.  Some needed acceptance and saving from the wrath and rage of others (the woman who washed his feet with tears, the woman caught in adultery).  Whatever the person in front of him needed, he worked for their highest good in offering that.

      We know the result of this.  In return for his Love, those who "loved" him best offered the second kind of love: they wanted more from him than was possible.  He was constantly being pursued when he went off to pray, he was constantly being sought after, even when he needed time to himself.  Judas tried to push him into the actions that Judas wanted and ended up betraying him instead.  People did not see him for who he was, they did not offer him care for who he was, they could not Love him with the kind of love he offered to them.  Offering real Love back to God, or to the world seemed and seems an impossibility for most people.  And still, we are called to love with the ideal love that we have seen demonstrated.

      I have said to many people that I never knew what it was to love until I became a parent.  I am so grateful for the experience of that kind of deep, unconditional caring because it reminds me that I am to strive to love everyone with that same kind of "I will do what is best for you no matter how you feel about me" way.  Being a parent has been practice for me in loving others who sometimes don't want that love, sometimes don't return it, sometimes push it away in angry ways.  It showed me what unconditional, full love really looks like.  It also holds up to me a mirror for those times when I am failing to love in this way but instead am seeking an emotional trade with someone else instead.  Again, we do all need that kind of intimacy and mutual relationships as well.  But that is not Love.  For me, I hope to grow more loving towards all people, even those who are enemies and even those from whom I want that mutual intimacy and emotional trade.  It is a journey, it is a learning.  But it is worth the effort.  For as Jesus said of the one leper who did return to give thanks - it is in that return that he was truly healed.  It is in the Loving that we truly experience the gifts of Love.  It is in the true unconditional caring that we come to meet the Divine.  It is in giving Love that we come to know Love.