I wasted a day
mostly on purpose
Avoided the deep
And sulked on the surface
I Spent the day on worry
I Spent it on fret
I Spent the day on poor me
Blew the change on regret
But I can surely recover
Right Now is forgiving
Today always waits for me
To resume mindful living
I’m not a Baptist, but I do like this baptist preacher’s sermon on the Presence of Christ.
“Can we embrace the tension that comes from living in a post-modern, post-denominational world and find our center from being the presence of Christ in the world?
I believe we can, and I believe we will. And the greatest reason I believe it is because the living Christ is in us – all of us. And the living Christ is in today. “
Good Christmas reading, even though it was written in July.
“In the beginning was only Being,
One without a second.
Out of himself he brought forth the cosmos
And entered into everything in it.
There is nothing that does not come from him.
Of everything he is the inmost Self.
He is the truth; he is the Self supreme.
You are that, Shvetaketu; you are that.”
-Chandogya Upanishad
Of everyone He is the inmost self. This is part of that common watertable of all the world’s spiritual traditions. The first chapter of Aldous Huxley’s “The Perennial Philosophy” is entitled ‘That Art Thou” for this reason. So in this last day of Advent, that is my final meditiation, to focus on the inmost self of each person I encounter. To see the Presence of Christ in each soul.
For me, it is easier to celebrate Christmas on Decemebr 26th, once all of the Giftmas doings are out of the way. Not saying that to be Scroogey. Believe me by looking at our Giftmas bills we are very down with the whole Giftmas thing. But with the overlap out of the way, it’ll be easier to focus. My company “forces” us to take a week off at Christmas time, and that’s a great blessing. After Christmas day, we just visit and spend time with one another. Undirected, improvised, unscripted – as close to pure Presence as we can give one another.
Have a Very Merry Giftmas everyone. I hope you get all the presents on your list. And, for those of you that wish to, have a very happy Christmas. I pray that you and I get all the Presence we need.
I sent Speedy his Christmas present today. I included a letter, the first I’ve sent him since he left our home to join another family early this this Fall. I couldn’t help being sad. Mainly because I couldn’t send him the letter I wanted to write and say what I’ve wanted to say to him since the week we knew he wasn’t going to stay with us.
Dear Speedy,
I wanted to be your Daddy. I mean I really wanted to. And I could never really tell you the reasons why I couldn’t.
All along I wanted to explain to you that when I said, “There’s nothing you can do to make me quit loving you. I will never send you away.” I meant it with all my heart. I want to explain how I came to realize that Heidi and I could only make that commitment for ourselves and not the other small children in our family. You could threaten to kill me and I could ignore that. But as a dad I could not ignore threats to my other children.
It wasn’t fair to you. There was a “third rail” we couldn’t tell you about because we didn’t know it was there until you started to flirt with it. But you know all too well that life is not fair.
I want you to know that I understood that it was your abuse that came through in your behavior and how I tried very hard to see the pain and hurt through your anger. I want to explain how we cried over you. How frustrated and helpless we felt. How all the training we took about how to care for you left us feeling lost and unsupported. I want to tell you about the moments when we felt like maybe we weren’t cut out for this. And I want you to know about the times when we decided to stick with it anyway because we loved you.
I want you to know that we wanted to keep trying. How we wanted more time to figure you out. I want you to know that they gave us an ultimatum. And if the decision to commit had to be made “Now,” it had to be “No.”
I wish your six year old mind could apprehend all these things without turning it into, “I was bad, so they sent me away.” Because that’s totally not what it was. I understand if that’s what it seems like to you. I hope you can forgive me and understand that I still love you.
I also want you know how grateful we are that Granny, someone you knew and loved, stepped forward and wanted you. I think that was God’s signal that it might turn out okay after all.
I love you and pray for you often. Be good for Granny and Santa will hook you up.
Cody
Instead I wrote him some stuff about Christmas and toys and how I missed reading and singing and drawing with him. I had intended to write sooner, but I just didn’t know what to say. Best to keep the first letter light.
The best I can pray for is that Speedy is finally in his forever home. But I’m still sad.
I love this old carol.
‘The Cherry Tree Carol’
When Joseph was an old man, an old man was he,
He married Virgin Mary, the queen of Galilee,
He married Virgin Mary, the queen of Galilee.
Joseph and Mary walked through an orchard green,
There were berries and cherries as thick as might be seen
There were berries and cherries as thick as might be seen
And Mary spoke to Joseph, so meek and so mild,
“Joseph gather me some cherries, for I am with child,
Joseph gather me some cherries, for I am with child.”
And Joseph flew in anger, in anger flew he,
“Let the father of the baby gather cherries for thee,
Let the father of the baby gather cherries for thee.”
Then up spoke baby Jesus from in Mary’s womb,
“Bend down the tallest tree that my mother might have some,
Bend down the tallest tree that my mother might have some.”
And bent down the tallest branch, till it touched Mary’s hand,
Cried she, “Oh look thou Joseph I have cherries by command,”
Cried she, “Oh look thou Joseph I have cherries by command.”
– Traditional
(English folk ballad)
I can identify with Joseph. Even Saints can be cranky from time to time.
‘A Good Poem’
A good poem is like finding a hole
in the palace
wall–
never know what you
might
see.
–Tukaram
(translated by Daniel Ladinsky)
“This is the gist of all worship: to be pure and to do good to others. He who sees Shiva in the poor, in the weak, and in the diseased, really worships Shiva. And if he sees Shiva only in the image, his worship is but preliminary. He who has served and helped one poor man seeing Shiva in him, without thinking of his caste or creed or race or anything, with him Shiva is more pleased than with the man who sees Him only in temples.”
-Vivekananda
(Handy Dandy Creed Converter: 1) Remove “Shiva.” 2) Insert your deity’s name. 3) Meditate.)
So, pretend we are latter day Shepherds and Wise Men seeking the incarnate deity, the saviour, the Christ. Where are we looking for him? And what gifts are we bringing him?
Tonight I plan to start the gift wrapping to gear up for Saturday and get all the stuff out of my closet and under the tree. Maybe I’ll reflect on my love for each recipient and the ways in which I see Jesus in each. Why can’t wrapping gifts be an opportunity for prayer? You can join me if you wish.
Agnes Martin is dead at age 92. Martin apparently wished to have no obituary written about her, nor any memorial services. But I will say this, news of her death hit me like a punch to the chest. She is one of my favorites ever.
Almost as a counterpoint to my previous post, this Psychology Today article asserts that “Hands-on” overparenting is creating a “Nation of Wimps” who can’t handle the trials of adolescence and adulthood.
So, maybe we should all stay together for the sake of the children but, while we’re at it, do more adult stuff (like work on our marriages) and spend a little less time with Junior, letting him just play by himself more? Sounds like a good plan to me.
Must reading for every parent. Listen to your child’s music. Really listen.
Rarely do we parents look past the sex, the profanity, the misogyny, the violence, and the anger in adolescents’ music to hear the actual message. If we did, the message would be loud and clear. It’s a message that’s very, very popular with this generation of children . Kids are pretty pissed off about the divorce culture to the point that they spend millions of dollars turning to bands who express their pain in the most explicit terms.
Sociologists and experts are heralding “Family Diversity” and trying to get everybody to accept that “changes in marriage and family life” are here to stay and aren’t “necessarily a problem”. The kids in question, at least according to the music they listen to, beg to differ:
“Meanwhile, a small number of emotionally damaged former children, embraced and adored by millions of teenagers like them, rage on in every commercial medium available about the multiple damages of the disappearance of loving, protective, attentive adults — and they reap a fortune for it. If this spectacle alone doesn’t tell us something about the ongoing emotional costs of parent-child separation on today’s outsize scale, it’s hard to see what could.”
Many adults want to blame the people who create today’s toxic adolescent culture, but today’s adolescent culture points the finger right back. As Eminem says,
“Don’t blame me when lil’ Eric jumps off of the terrace / You shoulda been watchin him — apparently you ain’t parents.”
I hate to say it, but Eminem is Right.
Yerba Mate may be getting its day in North America, indeed. In evidence, it’s got its very own backlash:
“Millions of people in Argentina, Paraguay and Uruguay give mate near religious status, obsessively consuming it throughout the day and making it a hub of intimate social gatherings. It seems certain that yerba mate is getting its North American day. Less clear is whether it will land a respected place in the annals of American herbalism or pass away as another marketing stained, fly-by-night weight loss fad.”
I’ve always thought the claims of Yerba mate as a weight loss drink were overblown. And yes it does have actual caffeine and not some more “healthy variant” called mateine. But the above article does not even mention that the drink is relatively nutritious and has lots of antioxidants. And no mention at all of the really cute straws. Totally biased coverage, if you ask me.
After receiving Eucharist last night I was struck with a satisfying sense of “Us.” I looked around and saw the older kids who babysit my kids, the kids I have watched grow up, the people who brought us casseroles for a week when the twins were placed with us, the lady who watched my kids as I accompanied my wife to surgery, the couple to whom we passed on that favor. I saw a few kids I have taught about Jesus over the years, and a larger number who have, in turn, taught me as well. At that moment I felt like a man in his Home, around his People. These are people who know and accept me, who know and love my kids. And with all the failings and petty frailties and politics, they are my family.
Everyone needs to be part of an “Us,” truly and tangibly. I guess you could find a secular, non-”Church”-y group of people who have acheived the same “Us”-ness. But I would argue that, by definition, they will have found Church anyway. Perhaps in spite of themselves.
“only when Christ is formed in us will the mystery of Christmas be fulfilled in us”
That’s what my Church’s catechism (526) says about the “magic of Christmas.” The Advent lesson of the week is that Christmas is not so much about commemorating the birth of Christ, but celebrating the Presence of Christ. Not just the Presence among us, but the emerging Presence within and between us.
And so as I sat there reveling in this Presence of Christ, there in the midst of “Us,” I said a prayer envisioning the same atmoshpere of love, caring, and acceptance to burst out from the islands of “Us” out there and cover all of the world. Not just some wimpy, abstract “Peace on Earth” ideal, but something more tangible, more alive. Where we all eat with one another, laugh with one another, cry with one another, and watch each others’ kids.
That’s what I want for Chrismas.
Why wonder about the loaves and the fishes?
If you say the right words, the wine expands.
If you say them with love
and the felt ferocity of that love
and the felt necessity of that love,
the fish explode into many.
Imagine Him, speaking,
and don’t worry about what is reality,
or what is plain, or what is mysterious.
If you were there, it was all those things.
If you can imagine it, it is all those things.
Eat, drink, be happy.
Accept the miracle.
Accept, too, each spoken word
spoken with love.
– Mary Oliver
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