Breathe in, breath out

Author, Robert Corin Morris recalled a man in his 30’s complaining to him about the results of growing up in a “classy suburb with too much freedom and too few limits.” The young man said that he yearned “for a life with constraints…” He yearned to be “fenced in” by voluntarily choosing to practice disciplines of self-restraint. He hoped to find freedom thereby from the powerful rule of his desires - a freedom in stark contrast to that which his culture celebrates.

Morris goes on to say that this young man is the embodiment of a paradox rampant in the materially “developed” nations: that more can turn out to be less, that certain kinds of freedom can become prisons of the soul, and that abundance can create its own kind of poverty. As a child of the culture of superabundance, he was promised that freedom and self-fulfillment go hand in hand. Only by following one’s heart into the widest range of life-experiences could essential self-knowledge be gained. The promised fruit would be delicious and make one wise. The young man continued, “The promise of that kind of freedom has failed. Self-knowledge is not simply a matter of doing what you want. It’s not that I don’t value freedom,” he said, “I do. But I sense there is a different kind of freedom to be discovered in restraining some of my hungers.”

When I read this I immediately resonated with its message as I’ve recently been meeting a number of people of all ages who share this same sentiment. The culture we live in is wide-open - with few restraints.  The cliche, “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should,” fits for more and more who have found that when they’ve lived the life they thought they wanted, not only find themselves no better for it but struggling to find meaning for their lives.  

In my travels this year with a variety of different kinds of communities I engaged a secular culture that is leaning into rituals of self-restraint, in forms of spirituality that do not press in on them in the way traditional religion has done, but has freed them through the learning of self-imposed discipline. What they, and we, are seeking are boundaries, structures to contain us and hold us in a comfortable place. Constraints have been freely chosen and are very subtle. For example, people are very keen to develop rituals or practices that combine body and spirit and a time set apart.  Attending weekly worship at a church used to be one such practice. It still is for the community gathered here today; but because churches are generally tied to their own particular doctrines and have rules of exclusion, the worshipping practice has been greatly abandoned and we are now very much in the minority.  Unfortunately this has had the effect of throwing the baby out with the bath water. Some faith communities, including the Episcopal Church, have grown beyond the walls of exclusion and have the spiritual breath and depth to genuinely welcome all to share in every part of community life. But that is not well-known of course and there are many other options available. In fact, there is a tsunami of other options, and they come in many shapes and forms, some are very subtle, but all have to do with the connection of the body to the spirit by way of self-imposed disciple. Discipline around food and the ethics of food,  meditation and prayer, art and symbols, breathing and the movement of energy,  asanas and kriyas,  mudras, mantras and chanting, breath-work and movements of the body that connect one to the inner life. Each of these things are pathways to God. 

What I have witnessed this year, all around me, is an epidemic of spiritual awakening - a deep yearning to move away from institutionally imposed discipline toward self-discipline. Whole communities are forming around themes of spiritual practices - movement, breathing, eating and praying. Having a mediation practice and connecting to a community that does that together fills the need to nurture a life of discipline. Having a yoga practice that is rooted in the traditional roots, that is, to seek unity with God, and connecting to a community that does that practice together effectively provides a spiritual foundation for life. 

Yesterday, while I was practicing with my new-found Kundalini yoga community in Corning I was struck by how this works, its subtle, but very effective. I did not know anyone in the class and yet as we sat with our arms extended high into the air chanting “Har” for several minutes, until the arms were far beyond fatigued and the eyes were beginning to water, there was a sense of holding each other up, so that all of us would endure to the end and all would receive the full benefit of our collective work. Competition has no place in the spiritual life, fun and games aside.

I also have a community I enjoy in the Ithaca area and regularly go up for dinner with friends on Friday nights. This is a community that has self-imposed disciplines around food; a different kind of realized abundance. Last Friday night, while I was washing what seemed like 100 plates, no two being the same, I remarked to the host that he must be used to losing a lot of plates. Yes, he said, over the last twenty years there’s been a lot of breakage. He said the continual loss has helped them to let go of their attachments. The important thing for the hosting couple is their gift of sacred food and the love of the community that gathers on Friday nights; all the rest has fallen away.

Jesus’ teachings are meant to help us put things in proper perspective and prioritizing the important from the unimportant. It can be amazingly difficult work. But it is important work for spiritual communities to engage in. Today the lesson is about reconciliation. It is healing work, therefore spiritual work, and it extends far beyond the confines of our physical location. The goodwill we generate affects the whole community. We might think our dispute is private, but by the time we’re done telling everyone about it and not engaging in conversation with the one person we need to talk to we’ve done extensive damage to the fabric of the whole community. The way forward will result in growth for all, one way or another, but there are more helpful ways that promote health, bypassing unnecessary suffering, and respect the dignity of all involved. These are the finer points of healing work but there is a broader perspective we might hold today in light of the unprecedented number of natural disasters occurring simultaneously at this moment. 

To that end, the healing work being done by us in our respective spiritual communities is vital to the well-being of the entire world - especially for those who are suffering. The western mindset focuses on doing and fixing in times of crisis - and that certainly is of great importance. When there is a crisis first responders need to be there to do their life-saving work. Likewise, the wave of mission and aid workers who will descend on all the areas of devastation around the world, Texas, Louisiana, Florida, Georgia and other southern states, Oregon, Montana, Mexico, Cuba, all the Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, Bangladesh, and all other places that have been devastated in recent weeks, will do the essential work of rescue, medical and pastoral care, repair and restoration. But more is needed. It is time now for we in the West to learn from our Eastern brothers and sisters on doing the ancient work of healing, reconciliation and restoration with our minds.   

So if you are in this moment feeling helpless as Irma makes her way up the Florida peninsula while we are gathered for worship, and are wondering, What can I do? There are two things that you can do: First, take concrete action: Make a donation for hurricane relief. And then develop a meditation practice, beginning today. I cannot stress to you enough how important and urgent the need is for this simple practice. 

Breathe in, breath out. 

Sit quietly with your eyes closed and concentrate as hard as you can on sending to those who are fearful a sense of calm;

Breathe in, breath out. 

To those who are grieving great losses, peace and strength to meet the days to come; 

Breathe in, breath out. 

to those who are injured, healing; 

Breathe in, breath out. 

To all those without hope, call upon the angels to lift them out of their despair; 

Breathe in, breath out. 

And to those who have died, extend blessings for eternal life.  

Breathe in, breath out. 

Then sit in silence and think of nothing. 

Breathe in, breath out. 

That nothingness and the calm in brings to you connects you with the force that creates worlds. That nothingness is the most healing balm you can offer a suffering world.

In the coming days and months, as life on this planet continues to evolve, we are going to realize that we are moving into a different place. Increasingly, we will no longer tolerate the world of irresponsible consumerism and mindless materialism. We will need to leave that behind us. We will have no choice; at the end of the day nothing of the material world will survive. We are moving to a time of self-realization - not narcissistic but rather holistic. We are coming into a time of realizing that the pain of the one who suffers across the globe whom I do not know is causing me pain in my own time and place because that one and I are the same. At some point, very soon now, we will not be able to turn the TV off and simply feel that we are somehow blessed that its not us that is affected. At some point very soon we will not be able to go back to this life to which we have become accustomed. We will need the spiritual tools to deal with that kind of life. The world around us is preparing for that time. Jesus’ teachings have been preparing us all along; his wisdom is enduring. One day, very soon we will need a community that has within its ethos this wisdom and a deep sense of mystery that helps each of us connect to something far greater. At some point, sooner rather than later, we will need to reconcile to the fact that we are dependent on each other for our mutual survival. 

For millions today, that day has come. Jesus’ lesson on reconciliation points us in that direction. It isn’t just for the sake of having a well-intentioned community, it is for our continuation as a species. It was never about just getting along. It was always about something far bigger. Perhaps today we can see that in light of the scope of loss and devastation in so many parts of our nation and in the world. For millions, this day is the first day of their new life in a new paradigm - where all the old things that used to matter are now unimportant and only the very, very important things remain. Today the person you are arguing about over the color of toilet paper, the person who sets your teeth on edge, might just be the person who pulls you out of your car on a flooded street or gives you food when you have none, or is the one whose dog you have rescued. The point of the lesson on reconciliation is for the development of deeper spiritual values that creates in us a sense of responsibility for one another; an acknowledgment of our interconnectedness. 

When its all said and done, God will have God’s church; it is up to us if we want to be a part of it.

 

Waiting for Honey

In his autobiographical account, Report to Greco, Nikos Kazantizakis tells of a time when his inner life had dried up so dramatically that he decided to seek counsel from a hermit who lived in a cave on Mount Athos in Greece. The hermit counseled faith and patient waiting but Nikos wanted answers. 

How long? he asked the hermit.

Who answered: Until salvation ripens in you. Allow time for the sour grape to turn to honey.

And how long shall I know, when the sour grape has turned to honey?

One morning you will rise and see that the world has changed. But you will have changed, my child, not the world. Salvation will have ripened in you. At that point, surrender yourself to God, and you shall never betray Him.

Nikos returned to his cell and one morning awoke to a medlar tree blossoming and giving off a sweet smell  even though it was the dead of winter. He wept. “I came here to the desert and buried myself inside this cell with its humble bed, its jug of water, its two stools. Now I am waiting. Waiting for what? God forgive me, but I really do not know very well.”

Wayne Simsic, who wrote of Nikos’ experience went on to say: Such open-ended waiting at a time of crisis is not reinforced in our culture; we tend toward impatience and a quick fix to take away pain and suffering. We may enter the desert willingly, but we want answers. Nevertheless, on the level of faith, we realize that we should trust this journey into the darkness. Like the Magi, depicted in the T.S. Eliot poem, we hear “voices singing in our ears” telling us that this journey into the night desert is folly but we also know that we have lost our taste for the old ways of security and comfort. Like the early Desert Christians, we intuit that the journey will be one of dying, dislocation from the usual way of seeing and understanding self and the world, but we realize that dying is necessary. Answering the desert call stretches the spirit but also opens the eyes, focuses attention on the one thing most important. (Weavings, Vol. XXVI, No. 1, pg. 13-15) Jesus says it this way: :"For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? (NRSV)

Simsic asks: “Are we willing to stay put long enough, to wait in the darkness, and to trust that the waiting will be fruitful? Do we believe that inner balance and even spiritual renewal can be found at a time of desolation and seeming loss of hope?” (Ibid. p. 15)

Peter and the disciples are moving into that uncomfortable place as they are confronted with the inevitable end facing their beloved teacher; they are moving with resistance toward the dark night of the soul written about with such clarity by St. John of the Cross, who knew it so intimately. John had been taken prisoner for his religious beliefs, was tortured, starved and left to die in his cell. Miraculously, he escaped imprisonment and wrote of his spiritual experiences in the midst of unimaginable physical and mental suffering. Simsic writes that when John’s teachings “concerning the dark path of the soul were found by a group of Carmelite nuts to be too harsh, he referred them to his poems and told them that in the metaphors they would find his original inspiration…. In the deep stillness of a dark night a hush comes over the soul and the Spirit has room to work.” (Ibid. p. 16) 

Peter is not there. We are not there. The world is not there. The hush has not yet come; the Spirit has not been given room to work. 

Peter, who was just a moment ago named by Jesus as the rock upon which the church will be built is now a stumbling block, focusing on worldly things and not divine things. Our attachment to worldly things is, will, and has always been, a stumbling block for us. It is the loss of these attachments, sometimes sudden, unexpected and unwanted that sends us deep into grief and misery. Many thousands of people in Texas are in this place now - many have lost all their worldly possessions as well as those they love. And yet, following all such disasters, years down the road will come the stories from a few of how such loss led to a spiritual awakening. It is the harder road most certainly. It is a harder thing to be transformed by tragedy then to do the work of change first so that no matter the storm that comes the soul is bonded not to earthly things; but is so completely graphed into the divine life that no loss, least of all the coming of death, can promote suffering. This may sound like Buddhist talk, but it is fact at the heart of Christianity. We perceive the releasing of our attachments through the eyes of world - as loss - but it is only gain. To have nothing is to have everything. To be free of the ties that bind is perfect freedom. Ram Dass once said, “Why do I need money when it is all around me?” When another guru was asked, “But where will the money come from?” He replied, “From where ever it is now.” God’s economy is not the economy we live by. It is altogether different and resistance to it is great and causes much suffering for us and for all those who cannot see another way. In response Jesus does not restrain himself in his reaction: “Get behind me Satan!”  Our attachments to false things, false idols, leads us daily from the Christ we deeply long to follow. The undoing of such attachments requires a gradual pulling away, a reconciliation with our inner world, our higher self, the divine within that calls us live quite differently. This is the Dark Night of the Soul. St. John wrote of this darkness:

O guiding night!

O night more lovely than the dawn!

Answering a desert monk’s request for spiritual guidance, Abbot Moses replied, “Go sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.” (Ibid., p. 16)  “This counsel may have disheartened the monk because, after all, he had remained true to his cell and was being asked to return to it, stay put, and continue facing the death of his own self-interest, desires, and self-righteousness. As we retreat to an inner cell, our own encounter with divine presence through the day, we realize that it is a ‘place’ not of tranquility but of inner upheaval…. Eventually the dimensions of our cell grow to include more and more of our lives and we realize that we are being called to complete surrender to divine presence; nothing should be held back. Desert monks spoke of purity of heart, a single-minded focus on the divine image in every aspect of our lives, grounded in the intuitive awareness that we are called to lose ourselves completely in God.” (Ibid., p. 17)

The place of complete surrender is the spiritual location from which Paul speaks to the church in Rome. Paul has returned to the cell; writing this letter from his imprisonment and unsure if he would live to visit the church he founded but had not yet visited. Nothing was held back. Paul writes to the faithful Roman church: 

“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.”  (NRSV)

If we feel this is a tall order, then we see this only as a list of moral attributes, character traits we are to acquire for the perfection of the spiritual life. That is putting the cart before the horse. Paul is describing the transformation that comes from returning to and sitting in one’s cell for a very long time. It is not forced behavior that ripens the sour grapes, but rather it is the patient waiting that transforms them into honey. One does not do these things in order to be righteous, one learns righteousness and becomes all these things because there can be no other way. Discipleship is not about learning through action, that is the way of the world. It is about being in the world as gently as a leaf hangs on a tree, or a blade of grass comes up from the earth, or a bird flies through the air. It is not forced, it does not require more than what is necessary for life, it does not destroy the tree or the soil or the air in order to have its place there. It rests in its place among all created things. The hallmark of a rich spiritual life is harmony. Jesus teaches: Do not let your hearts be troubled. Fear nothing.

The world is in great turmoil, as it always is. It may be that we are, collectively, in the dark night as we witness to the suffering all around our nation and in so much of the world. What shall we do when there is so much to be done?

We do what we can do.

We trust in working of the Spirit.

We do what we can to relieve suffering.

We speak truth to power.

We take care of our neighbor.

And we return to our cell, day by day, hour by hour, and wait. We return to prayer and meditation and study. We wait for the hush to come. We give the Spirit room to work. We return again and again to sit in our cell who teaches us in the still hours of the dark night. How long? Until salvation ripens within us and the sour grape turns to honey. The world will not change. It is us who will change. And then, and only then, will we be at peace as we wade through the waters of chaos. Then we will be free.