this great & mysterious smoothie we call "Life"!

Most mornings I make myself a smoothie for breakfast. I put lots (no, really – LOTS) of things in my smoothies – at least five kinds of fruit, assorted greens, various other stuff. And when it’s all blended and I’m drinking it, I can’t identify the flavor of any particular ingredient. But what I can tell you is that if I add something new, or if I leave something out, I notice a difference. This morning it occurred to me that life is like that. We are all ingredients in this great and mysterious smoothie we call “Life.” It can be tempting to think that we are such a small part and don’t really matter. What difference could we possibly make in the grand scheme of things? Except, that’s not how it works. Each of us has a unique flavor, and without our particular contribution the whole thing changes. I don’t pretend to know how all of that works. But this morning my smoothie taught me that it’s true. You matter. I matter. We all matter. Please keep sharing your flavor with the world!

No Such Thing as Perfect

There is no such thing
     as perfect
All there is
     is this . . .
     this moment
     this place
     this situation
     this me
If I can
     manage to . . .
     be here
     be present
     be myself
It is
     enough

And when I
     pay attention
     and notice
this mysterious life is
     wonderful
     amazing
     glorious 

There is no such thing
     as perfect
All there is
     is THIS!

Endings, Beginnings, & Finding Connection

About twice a year it is my turn to write an article for the Religion Page of our local newspaper (the Helena Independent Record). This is my most recent contribution . . .

• • • • •

In these opening days of this new year, I find myself reflecting on endings and beginnings. From one perspective, there is no such thing as endings or beginnings. Life is always in the process of flowing and becoming. Celebrating the transition from one year to the next on January 1st is a completely arbitrary designation. It’s just when someone decided that our calendar should begin. There are other calendars that mark time differently. But from another perspective, marking such moments and pondering endings and beginnings is a profoundly human thing to do. We are finite creatures and one of the ways in which we make sense of our lives is by reflecting on where we’ve been and dreaming of where we’re headed. We find the strength to keep going by believing that tomorrow might be better than yesterday. So it is that here in the first few days of 2021 many of us are spending some time looking back at the year so recently gone and trying to sort through what just happened to us. The pandemic turned our world upside so quickly that it can be difficult to remember a time before masks, and social distancing, and self-quarantining. Grief at the sheer magnitude of the loss, not only of life but of a way of life, is really only beginning to be realized. Then there was the added trauma of the social and political turmoil and upheaval which broke the surface of our awareness and swept across our country and our world. The world as we once thought we understood it has changed right before our eyes. As a new year dawns it is no wonder that we find ourselves hoping for a new beginning and a better tomorrow.

How do we keep going? Where do we find the strength to step into each new moment? What inspires us to trust that there is light beyond the darkness? I write these words as a pastor who is serving a Christian congregation, so for me at least part of the answer to such questions is found in the long history of the Judeo-Christian faith tradition. Over the past many centuries there have been countless people who have faced seriously challenging life circumstances, and have found courage and strength in the shared experience of Sacred Presence shining into the darkness. The prophet Isaiah wrote, “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of God has risen upon you. For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but God will arise upon you, and God’s glory will appear over you.” In the opening words of the Gospel of John we find these words of comfort, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” Spread across the pages of scripture, from beginning to end, is the message that we are not alone and appearances-to-the-contrary-notwithstanding there is reason to hope that Light and Love will ultimately triumph.

I know, however, that just because I write these words as a Christian pastor does not mean you who are reading these words necessarily fit neatly into that world view. You may live within a different faith tradition, or perhaps no faith tradition at all. So, in the end, what I seek to offer is not a “Christian” perspective, but a human perspective. I believe that central to what it means to be human is to be connected to something beyond ourselves. We are intimately and intricately woven into the very fabric of all there is, and when we lose sight of that truth it is easy to feel lost and empty. There is something in us that knows we are a part of something larger than ourselves. Augustine, the 5th-century Christian theologian, wrote these words in a prayer, “You made us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” Your world view may not include the notion of a divine being (God or whatever other name you might choose to use) who created us and calls us. But I believe that it is vital for our well-being as humans to experience ourselves as connected to a reality which extends beyond our own skin. Where do we find meaning and purpose and light for our living? I invite you to look both within and beyond yourself. When we can slow down enough to simply pay attention to our breathing and listen to the beating of our hearts we begin to get in touch with our primal humanity, which will ultimately open us to a larger world, because that is what it means to be truly human. To paraphrase Augustine, our hearts are restless (and lost) until we rest in our connection with all that is.

So, as we step into yet another new year, may we do so with boldness and courage and joy and a profound sense of connection. Grieve what we have lost, but do not get stuck there. There is light shining in our darkness. Call it God, or Sacred Presence, or Ultimate Reality, or the Great Mystery, or call it nothing at all, but be aware that we are each a part of something larger than we can even begin to imagine. Allow this moment, and every moment, to become an opportunity for a new beginning, as we open ourselves to the Great Unfolding of Life. Arise! Shine! For your Light has come!

Listening to the Wind...

I woke up to the sound of the wind blowing hard against the house. And almost immediately I remembered that in Hebrew the word for wind is the same as the word for Spirit. I love knowing that because it helps me pay attention to Sacred Presence in random, ordinary, mundane moments, like waking up to a wind storm. In this case I responded by writing a haiku (one of the ways I process the experience of Sacred Presence).

the wind is blowing 

perhaps it’s Spirit 

I’ll try to listen 

I’m not sure what Spirit might be trying to say to me today, but apparently I need to keep listening because the wind has been blowing hard, and loud, and persistent all day long. On several occasions I have found myself feeling anxious as the windows rattle and the trees in the yard sway ominously. But then I remember my haiku and I turn my attention once again to listening. 

What message from Spirit do I need to hear in this moment? What is preventing me from hearing that message? And why am I feeling anxious about Spirit’s persistent efforts to get through to me? The answer to all three questions is the same - “I don’t know!” I don’t even know if it’s Spirit. It might just be the weather. Except that even if it’s “just” the weather it’s probably also Spirit, because that’s how Spirit speaks. God speaks through the ordinary stuff of our lives, in a language that sounds remarkably similar to the wind, or the rain, or a friend’s voice, or a baby’s cry, or the stillness at dawn. The trick to understanding is to pay attention and slow down long enough to really listen, not just with our ears but with our hearts. Most of the time the message won’t be simple enough or clear enough to put down in concise and unambiguous words. Listening to the Wind is more art than science. 

In this moment all I have is the barest of hints as to what the message might be. So I’ll keep listening. I’ll keep paying attention. Because I’m quite certain that Spirit isn’t finished speaking yet.

Being Present Now!

One of the lessons I have been working on in my life for quite some time now is being present in each moment. It doesn’t mean ignoring what has come before or letting go of dreams about what might yet be, but it does mean seeking to avoid allowing either past or future to prevent me from fully participating in the only moment I have available to me, which is the eternal NOW. If I am stewing over something that happened yesterday, or worrying about what might happen tomorrow, then I am not really able to be present to the possibilities which are right in front of me now. If I want to encounter God’s Sacred Presence, now is the only moment when that can happen. These past few months, when so many of life’s routines have been upended and warped beyond recognition, the importance of this lesson has become clearer than ever before. We’ve never really been in control of very much (if anything at all), but we have had the illusion of control. In the upheaval and uncertainty of our current circumstances, even the illusion has been shattered. The only thing I can really do is to show up, as fully and authentically as I can manage, and open myself honestly to this moment in which I find myself. Whenever I manage to actually do this, however imperfectly, I find it to be a profoundly powerful experience. I don’t have to look for beauty, I simply begin to recognize that I am immersed in it. I don’t have to seek peace, I simply notice that I am experiencing it. I don’t have to search for God, I simply become aware that God is (and always has been) present. Whatever is going on around me and within me, whether it be the Covid-19 crisis, or the political and social strife that seems so all-encompassing, or the garden variety stresses which arise in the course of living my life, I discover that I am better equipped to face them because I am no longer consumed by them. At the end of the day, or at the end of all my days, it will not be the mistakes of yesterday or the worries about tomorrow that will matter. What I will remember and be grateful for will be the moments when I have managed to be fully present. That is where the awe and wonder are to be found. That is where Sacred Presence is to be encountered. That is how I want to live – fully alive – fully present – now – always NOW!

Love One Another! Let's Try That!

We are now half way through the year, and I would be willing to bet that none of us could have predicted how this year would unfold. But unfold it has, and is still doing so. The challenges are many and varied, and they seem to just keep coming. The drastic measures put in place to reduce the spread of Covid-19 made a huge difference. Here in Montana the growth of new cases almost completely stopped for more than a month. But then the restrictions were relaxed, and now the numbers are once again on the rise. The problem of systemic racism has been with us for a long time, and this year we find ourselves confronted with it yet again, this time in ways which seem finally to be getting people’s attention. But still there is resistance and push back. These are but two examples. Some days it seems as if everywhere we turn there is some new challenge crying out for our attention. People everywhere are hurting, and all too often there don’t seem to be any good answers. But for those of us who seek to be people of faith, having no good answer need not stop us, because it is not just up to us to have all the answers or solve all the problems. We can only do what it is within our power to do, and trust in God to be with us in the process. It does mean, however, that we need to step up and do our part. As the sign I carried at the Human Rights Rally last week-end at the Capitol said, “Jesus said, ‘Love one another.’ Let’s try that!” Not just some mushy, feel-good love. We need to be about the business of whole-hearted, full-bodied love – a love that gets our hands dirty – a love that might make us uncomfortable. It means we are called to take the steps we can take to keep each other safe. Put on a mask (it’s to protect others from what you may unknowingly be carrying). Practice appropriate social distancing. Avoid crowds. It means we are called to listen to those who are hurting, and stand with them as they proclaim their truth. When I went to the Human Rights Rally (with my sign) I was prepared for a reporter to come talk to me (none did – but I was prepared). My response was going to be, and still will be at any future rally I attend, “I’m here to stand with, not to speak for. I encourage you to go find a person of color, or an indigenous person, or an LGBTQ person. Hear their pain. Listen to their story.” We are called to share the love of God through the living of our lives. As St. Francis once said, “Preach the gospel every day. If necessary, use words.” In these very challenging days in which we find ourselves, we cannot always (or ever) choose or control the challenges we face, but we can choose and control how we will face them. Love one another. Let’s start there!

64 Trips Around the Sun

Today is my 64^th  birthday. It’s taken me a long time to get here. A lifetime to be exact. In units we use to measure the passage of time it’s been: 64 years, or 768 months, or 23,376 days, or 561,024 hours, or 33,661,440 minutes, or 2,019,686,400 seconds. As I said, a long time. And it’s been a long journey from there to here – approximately 37,376,000,000 miles (64 trips around the sun). Fortunately I didn’t have to walk the whole way, because that would have required approximately 65,781,760,000,000 steps.

All along this journey I have been profoundly blessed in far more ways than I can count. To quote an old Jimmy Buffet song, “Some of it’s magic, and some of it’s tragic, but I’ve had a good life all the way.” I have been loved, and cared for, and trusted. I have been surrounded by beauty that left me speechless. I have experienced life-shattering loss. I have lived in Sacred Presence. I have caught glimpses of the realm beyond what my senses are capable of perceiving. I have done my best to learn, and grow, and love along the way. I have taken approximately 591,037,455 breaths, and every single one of them has been a gift. In the words of Lila Flood, “Each breath I take is through Thy grace.”

I am now older than I have ever been, and younger than I will ever be again. There are more days behind me than there are in front of me. I do not know how many breaths I have left, but I do know that it is my intention to be grateful for each of them. I’m not done yet. There is still more loving left to do. There is still more beauty left to witness. There is still more of me left to discover. There is still more life left to share. In the words of Richard Bach, “Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you’re alive, it isn’t.”