Being least and still being great

Today is the Feast of John the Baptist, that fiery prophet who lost his head, literally, because he spoke the truth. The story of John from the gospels makes John seem wild, bold, and daring. John is doing what no one else dared do. He was breaking from tradition and baptizing people as a sign of repentance.

Jesus, when asked about John, said I tell you, among those born of women, no one is greater than John. But then Jesus added, yet the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he (Lk 7:28). It is an interesting remark, and I still have not come to understand it. But I can tell you what thoughts occur to me.

I think that truth does set us free. I think it the bond in relationships, the foundation of our faith with God, the reason we should trust any of our leaders.

There is also the truth about myself. I have secrets I need to let out, closets I need to open, and an honest face I need to present. All of those are almost a given.

But I also believe there are certain secrets we cannot share. And so, we cannot always speak that truth we hold within. When I realize this, I will not demand that others always speak the truth to me. I will accept that we each have our own inner secrets we dare not reveal. After all, we are fragile in our inner core, and we must protect that vulnerability.

Perhaps this is Jesus meaning. That John was great for speaking his mind, even when it cost him his head. But I do not have to be like that. I can be less than that, and still be greater than John. Simple because I can accept where I am, and know I do not have to follow in those footsteps.

That's my thought for today. What is yours?

Weeding out

It came from an article in Writer's Digest by Elizabeth Sims. It said  Let's face it: We writers tend to be rule-followers. We were the kids who turned in our papers on time, played the clarinet in the marching band....As adults we drive defensively, wear sunscreen and consult experts before making big decisions. We don't crash weddings or argue over the contents of our carry-ons in the airport security line. We weed out risk.

The line caught me because, I find it to be true. And I think this applies to our spiritual lives as well. We want God to remove all the uneasiness and risks in our lives.  We want spirituality to be safe.

Instead, God sends us inspirations that invite us to risk. God, it seems, dares us to believe, to act, to step out.

In class yesterday, we spoke of the importance of spirituality in our work as counselors. Our instructor asked us what our fears were. As we gave numerous examples, she summed it up with, "In other words, you are afraid to risk."  So true. So on the mark.

I am taking stock of my risk taking today, because I do not want to weed it out. I want to weed out fear, and hesitancy, and timidity. I want to step out in faith and know, my faith is about a God big enough to care for me. My God invites me to risk.

Taste and see the goodness of the Lord!

Psalm 34 says Taste and see how good the Lord is; blessed the one who takes refuge in him.

Both tasting and seeing are used figuratively, of course, but imply that our experience of God can cross that imaginary threshold between the tangible and the intangible. It is our challenge to make God so real, we are able to have that tangible relationship with him. It comes from meditation, from Lectio Divina, and from a constant turning to God in prayer and reflection.

This physical relish of God is the expected result of constant seeking. It is the realm of the mystic. It is possible for any christian.

Taste and see. Taste and see, the goodness of the Lord. I've always loved that hymn. Perhaps its because I believe it possible.

God does not call the gifted

We all have light within, we just need to pull it out and set it on a hill

It was a line that Anne Lamott quoted from her pastor's sermon on King David of the Old Testament. "God does not call the gifted, but gifts the called." I liked it immediately. I've been thinking about gifts lately, and the need to let them flow.

I think we tend to get it wrong about gifts. We look at geniuses, at stars, at people who have become rich because of some gift, and we think that is what gifts should do. But I do not believe that is the purpose of gifts.

Genesis says that when God finished creating, God looked at everything and said, "It is good." I think my reminder of that good is the gift God has given to me. I am not speaking here of some esoteric gift, some mind boggling earth shattering talent. I am speaking of the task or talent or ability that gives you joy. An ability that you should nurture. A task that, when performed, leaves you refreshed, not exhausted.

I am calling attention to this because I reflected on my own gift recently, as I walked by a piano in my church. I sighed and wished I had one in my little place. Not because I am a pianist. But because making music brings such joy to my heart and soul. When I play the piano, it's like I stepped for a time away from life as we know it here, and into another world. A world that does not count time or space. It is as though, somehow, God is released in that playing, and refreshes me in a singlular way. It is my little treasure I carry, and I am less when the opportunity is not there.

Do not let the world of glitter make you think light of your gift. Talent is not for standing up on a stage and proclaiming, only to be judged. It is that piece of heaven you carry inside of you, and which brings you joy. It is a reminder that yes, God gifts the called. And we are all called.

How much courage do I have?

Desert solitude. How could one be attracted to the nothingness it afforded? Only by realizing the value of detachment. Athanasius's life of Anthony, who is considered the father of monasticism, says that it all began for Anthony when he heard the gospel passage "If you wilt be perfect, go and sell all you have and give to the poor, and come and follow me." (Mt. 19:21)  Such drastic life changes prompted not a audience of scornful viewers, but an influx of dedicated followers. There must be something in this detachment theory that enriches.

Obvious benefits of detachment would be less worry about possessions and a clearer mind for God.But beyond detachment making one free and uncluttered, I think it offered yet another benefit. Detachment removed the tendency to look at what I am by what I have. If I have nothing, then I can only look at what I am.

Such an act searches for purity of heart, a key christian element. I begin to see myself in a different light. I begin to understand that I am sufficient when I am full of the light of God. I do not need trappings to be acceptable. God has made me with an inner beauty which even the desert barrenness cannot take from me.

Detachment enriches me because it gives me better vision. It is the ever contradictory nature of loss. When I lose, I somehow realize what is truly important to me. I realize the treasures I have.

There is much in the detachment of the early desert Abbas and Ammas that could teach us better discipleship. The question is, how much courage do I have to be detached? Am I willing to peer into my emptiness?

Accepting imperfect love

Sunset in South Dakota

We all want to be loved. It is the strongest desire of the human heart. And we cannot live without it.

But we know, no matter how strong the love, all love is fallible. Perhaps that is why psalm 63 reminds us to Rest in God alone. It continues God only is my rock and salvation, my stronghold: I shall not be disturbed at all.

Psalm 63 reminds us that only one can give us unconditional, perfect love, God. All else will love us in a tangible but fallible way. I need to remember this. No matter how deeply I may love someone or they may love me, be it my soul-mate or a kindred spirit, that love will not fully satisfy. There will be bumps in the road.

If I am grounded in psalm 63, if I am aware that only God's love is perfect, then I will allow human love its human frailties. I will not expect what cannot be. And in accepting that, I will experience an even greater satisfaction when I am loved

And that is hardly a bad thing!

When soul gets in the way of life

Sometimes I find my soul gets in the way of my life. That is, I think too much with my heart and not enough (at least at times) with my intellect. I am looking for meaning when perhaps I should be looking at studies or documents or perhaps even theology.

Do you have that problem too? Do you find that sometimes you don't want life to be examined on a slide, you just want it to have meaning. You want it to make sense, but not so much sense as to squeeze all mystery out of it?

Perhaps that is the problem. I love mystery. I find it the gem underneath all my unanswered questions. And while I am pondering those unanswered questions, and delving into how it might transform my life, I am missing out on documented ways of progressing.

I cannot say if this is a deficit, or if this deficit will be damaging to my outlook on life. Perhaps, and I am just suggesting to myself, I need to find the balance between the two. For me it is far more exciting to find insights for myself than to let others alway find the meaning, the reasons, the facts of life for me. Not that I am opposed to learning! But perhaps there are aspect in my journey that I feel I just need to discover for myself.

I say this as I fill my backpack with textbooks and head off for a day full of learning. I say this as I think about my job situation and my lack of sufficient employment. I say this as I look forward in life, and try to  balance my soul with my brains.