Let go of the self.

Before Christmas, the following parable was shared with our school.  It has stuck with me.
 
A SIEVE AND WATER (A Buddhist Story)

The Zen master and his disciple made their way across the sand to the shore. The disciple carried a cup and a sieve. At the water's edge, they stood on a rock, the sea breaking around them in great, frothy swirls. 'Show me how you would fill the sieve with water,' the master said. The disciple stooped and filled the cup with water. He poured it into the sieve. Cup after cup he poured into the heart of the sieve but no matter how quickly he poured, only the smallest remnant caught in the bottom. Even that soon formed a drop and was swallowed in the vastness of the ocean. All the time the master watched, saying nothing. In the end, the disciple faced the master and shrugged. The task was hopeless. Now, the master spoke: 'It is thus with the life of the spirit also,' he said. 'So long as we stand on the rock of I, of myselfness, and seek to pour the divine life into that shell, so certainly shall that life escape us. This is not the way to fill a sieve with water, nor the human spirit with the life of the divine.'

Then the master reached out his hand and took the sieve from the hand of the disciple. He thrust his arm far behind him then launched the sieve as far as he could, out into the face of the deep. For a moment, it lay glinting in the morning sunlight on the face of the water. Then it slipped far below. 'Now, it is full of water,' the master said. 'It will always be so. That is how you fill a sieve with water and the spirit with divine life. You throw the myself, the I, far out and away to sink into the deep sea of the divine life.'
 
Maurice Lynch


When I first heard this story told, my first thought was: Idiot, you can't fill a sieve with water; put the sieve in the bowl.  When I shared this on Wednesday morning, Sara shared that she had thought to hold the sieve under water.  Neither of us wanted to let go of the sieve.  As a metaphor for how tightly we hold on to the self, this says much about our desire to be filled up with "the life of the spirit."  We want to be filled; we do not want to let go of that useless sieve.

Bev

Willing to Forget Self

"My practice of the Rule regularly challenges me to be "humble."  I don't know about others, but it is difficult for me to give up my need for self-esteem and the esteem of others.  

During the Holiday season, when there is so much giving, and most of mine going to people I know and love, I am reminded that the season of being impoverished in our culture, of being hungry, of being homeless is sadly a year-round one.  And what must it be like for the poor to see all of the affluent going around to all of the wonderful stores of Williamsburg, buying last minute gifts when the poor are wondering where they will sleep tonight?  

I came across this poem recently and was moved by how relevant it is the Benedictine study we practice together.  What could we all accomplish in the world if we could just be "willing to forget your self?"

Tom Hale

The Good Son

by Jason Shinder

If God had come to me and said,
if you are willing to forget your self

you will find the cure for heart attacks and compose
the greatest symphonies,

I wouldn't have been sure of my answer.
Because there wouldn't have been enough

attention to my suffering. And that's unforgivable.
But I keep on forgiving myself

with God's love. And it's strange I should say this
because my mother died of a heart attack

after months in a hospital room full of a silence
that lodged itself like a stone in her throat.

And she thought I was wonderful

and would do anything for her.

"The Good Son" by Jason Shinder, from Stupid Hope. © Graywolf Press, 2009. 

Enoughness

"We live in a culture that sees having things as a measure of our success." Joan Chittester

Our conversations over the last month seem to center on the weight of our material goods, the things that "tie us to the earth."  This is much on our minds as two of our group have children who are struggling to find jobs in a world with few. Our children our struggling to find their way in the world, to make a success of their lives, to feel that they are enough -- and this has little to do with conspicuous consumption and accumulation of goods.  They struggle to find meaningful work, work which contributes to the community and to the world, work which uses the talents and gifts.  Many of those out of work have abandoned such lofty goals; they struggle simply to find jobs to feed their families, to subsist; this would be enough

So each gave thanks for the bounty we have; we are grateful for our bounty; we are aware that we have more than enough.  But we also realize these things don't make us who we are in the eye of God.  We pray for those who are seeking jobs, for those who do not have enough. 

We ask God to temper our greed, to help us to be content with less and know that this is enough.

Things that tie us to earth

Early in November, our group here at St. Martin's talked about Benedict's chapter on private ownership.  We are merely passing through.  Sr. Chittister writes, "On our journey to heaven, things tie us to the earth."  We watch TV shows about hoarders; even in early November, we become bombarded with fliers and mail to buy and buy more for Christmas. As we build our homes and communities, we also begin to accumulate more and more, and these things demand our time and attention and care.  We urged one another to clean out or throw out or donate something, to untie and unburden ourselves of something that ties us down or wastes our time and energy.  As the readings of November focused on the end times and our church calender ends its year, we prepare for the coming of Advent; we prepare the way of our Lord. 

This conversation has extended through a discussion on the need for silence, the use of bells to call the Benedictines to prayer. If the things of this earth and the material excess tie us down, we asked ourselves what reminds us to lift our eyes to heaven.  We challenged ourselves to create daily reminders to stop in silence or prayer.  We challenged ourselves to keep our eyes on heaven.  Suggestions: computer or phone reminders to stop; post-its on the morning mirror; the car's engine as you warm up the car on these cold mornings.

So this week, as we enter the season of Advent -- the stores leaflets and fliers multiply and rampant dialogues about Black Friday and Cyber Monday fill the airwaves.  We spoke of the work.  What are we working for?  What are our priorities?  Where do we spend our time?  Where should we spend our time?  Do these things tie us to the earth or do this things lift our hearts to heaven?

Ironically, our readings today focus on Lent, a time of fasting.  We again speak of our priorities; we discuss the temptations of the world around us.  We challenge ourselves to keep our hearts and minds on the season as a time of waiting and preparing for Christ, keeping our lives in readiness, being alert to the moments when Christ calls us.  In the midst of the flurry of Christmas, we challenge ourselves to mindfulness and awareness of Christ in our midst.

Correction

On Wednesday, the reading for the day reminded us that redemption is at hand.  Conversely we read in the rule about punishment and correction.  One of the responses to the Rule reminds us that the purpose of correction or punishment is redemption.

Michael an oblate on "Benedictine Monastic Diurnal" (a link is to the right) says:

"Something must be gleaned
from all this legislation for punishment: the one at fault must be
told when something is wrong. That, after all, is the only reason
for punishment, to be a wake up call."

He also warns us that the gentle support and encouragement we show to one another can also mask a cowardice, an unwillingness to confront.  In our reflection on this responsibility as community to encourage the best in each other and hold us accountable when we are heading in the wrong direction.  How can we do this in loving support?  Am I willing to listen to those in my life who provide constructive criticism?

Challenge: Practice non-verbal support.  Encourage and nudge one another to be present.  Smile, wink, pat someone on the back. 

On the ladder of humility

Over the past week or so, we have been reading about Benedict's ladder of humility. These pages have been defining humility, looking at the means toward humility, and often asking where in our lives we should seek to be more humble.  This past week as the Wednesday group gathered in prayer, we asked ourselves where in our lives we puff ourselves up.  We found that there is arrogance in our impatience, in our anger at the foibles of others, in our silent berating of the behaviors of those around us.  We task ourselves this week to take note -- just to notice -- those moments in our lives when we fail to be humble, to notice when we puff our own egos, to pay attention to moments in our lives when it has become all about me.

The toolbox

Benedict enumerates the tools of the spiritual life:

• Love God
• Love your neighbor
• Keep the 10 commandments
• Do the works of corporal mercy
• Hold your anger
• Hold your tongue
• Be a peacemaker
• Place your hope only in God
• Fear the Lord
• Listen
• Pray  
• Obey
• Request forgiveness when you fail 
• Never lose hope

Micah 6:6-8

⁶“With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? ⁷Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” ⁸He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

From the Urban Alley

This is a recent blog entry from a Benedictine group, The Urban Alley, which originates in northern Va.   Here is their mission statement:

"WE ARE A MONASTERY WITHOUT WALLS, A GROUP OF INDIVIDUALS COMMITTED TO A RULE OF LIFE AND A VIBRANT SPIRITUAL COMMUNITY. THE URBAN ABBEY IS LOCATED IN ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA AT ST. GEORGE'S EPISCOPAL CHURCH."

You can follow them at:  http://urbanabbey.blogspot.com/

Tom Hale

Dearly Beloved, 

Grace and Peace to you. 

If you want to become my followers, deny yourselves and take up your cross and follow me.” —Matthew 16.24 

The aunt who annoys you is not your “cross to bear.” 

The cross is not an annoyance, nor something thrust upon you. 
It is your free, willing and unresentful choice to be gentle, 
to be nonviolent for the sake of justice, 
to be vulnerable for the sake of healing, 
to open yourself to other people's suffering, 
to enter into the shame of the world with the enormous grace of God. 

To take up your cross is to enter into God's fierce longing for healing and justice, 
even at your own loss, 
confident that being wrapped in God's love, 
even amidst the suffering of the world, 
is heaven. 

To take up your cross is to trust that God alone is our security and our power, 
that grace is absolute and death is relative, 
that the world can get along without us but not without our love, 
that forgiveness is more powerful than force, 
that love is stronger than fear, 
more lasting than death, 
more real than anything else. 

To take up your cross is not to go alone, 
but to follow the Humble One, the Trusting One, the Gentle One, 
the one who already bears your cross, your sin, your suffering, your death, 
who wants to bear your light, your blessing, your soul, in love. 

To take up your cross is to die with Christ 
and to rise with Christ into a new life that can't be killed, 
in which you can suffer but not be hurt, 
and die but not be dead, 
in which you are truly alive, 
because it is no longer you but God living in you— 
wholly present and infinitely loving, 
and deeply joyful. 

Deep Blessings, 
Pastor Steve 
__________________ 
Steve Garnaas-Holmes 
Unfolding Light

"To all according to their merits"

Our meeting this morning focused on these words.  Sr. Joan writes:  "[Benedict] does not want people in positions simply to get a job done.  He wants people in people in positions who embody why we bother to do the job at all."  So we ask: Why do we get up each day?  Why do we sing in the choir?  Why am I a teacher?  Why do I work a this job?  The answers speak to the heart of our mission and our call.  This week at work a Sister from the Sister's of Mercy gave me this poem: Guerillas of Grace by Ted Loder

I need to Breathe Deeply
Eternal Friend,
grant me ease
to breathe deeply in this moment,
this light,
this miracle of  now.
Beneath the din and fury
of great movements
and harsh news
and urgent crises,
make me attentive still
to good news,
to small occasions,
and the grace of what is possible
for me to be
to do,
to give,
to receive,
that I may miss neither my neighbor's gift
nor my enemy's need.

In these words I breathe in and ask "what is possible."

A second conversation this morning led us into a heated debate about the motives of people who's anger and hate seemed to permeate a meeting, a dialogue, our world.  What do we do?  In the face of disrespect for my humanity or our humanity, what do we do? And how do we change the conversation so that those who hate are not turned into sound bytes?

Laws and Rules

"Law is simply a candle on the path of life to lead to the good we seek."  Obedience to the law is not an end in itself; when it becomes the end, it becomes an idol. Obedience to the law should lead to greater good.

"There is a meaning in every journey that is unknown to the traveler." ~Dietrich Bonhoeffer

From this day forward

During the first year, a  novice listens to the rule read through completely at three points; reading The Rule of St. Benedict: Insights for the Ages, our prayer community read through the rule three times in our first year.  At the end of the year -- a year which marked the end of the commitment we had made to this study -- we discussed the desire to continue.  When we met last Wednesday, we shared what this decision meant to each of us.  To me it meant a recognition that I was no longer just studying St. Benedict; St. Benedict's wisdom has become about finding a way of living and being and searching.  As Sr Joan says in her commentary, it's about becoming the person who will act -- even in the most stressful and dire of circumstances -- as a Christ-filled person.  The discipline has become about building habits of character and conscience. So each day, I re-commit to being Christ centered.

Gifts and Humility

Last spring during class, a student and I came to a point in the discussion in which she claimed that she really felt proud of her self for mastering a chapter on her own.  St. Benedict whispered in my ear that day, and her comment launched a discussion.  Should we feel proud of our accomplishments? Our culture, the world of the classroom, today's language of child-rearing, all point to building self-esteem by building pride in success. However, today's reading in the Rule seems to run counter to this culture of individual pride and self esteem.  The glow of success -- our pride --  motivates and encourages us to keep moving, to grow, to take on greater challenges and reap greater successes.  My classroom handed me these same arguments.  I countered that this glow of success should not be pride.  Pride says I did it all by myself; pride claims that I get all the credit; pride lets go of the hands that brought me thus far on the journey.  I countered that the glow of success should be gratitude.  Gratitude acknowledges the distance I have come and the skills that I have achieved but also acknowledges that this has been possible only because of the gifts others have given me: the gifts of time and space and resources, the gifts of my teacher's talents and knowledge and skills, the gifts of mentors who walked with me as I grew and my gifts blossomed, the gifts of those hands that held me up until I could stand alone.  Because of the blessings of time and space and mentors and a hundred other gifts, our own gifts and talents grow.  Today's reading made me think that the humility of the artist is rooted in this gratitude.

Let us give thanks to all those who made all the success of our lives a possibility.  Amen

Bev