Limited Love

We all must face a natural, common fear: "safely" loving others.

There is no safety in love. Only high risk / higher reward.

I have heard so many people say to me, to others, or the general air in a chat room: "...I have loved and loved and gotten nothing back in return, and now I have nothing more to give." Or: "...I don't want to give away my heart because I will be left with nothing.... If I love him and he leaves me, I will be left hurt and broken. I did it once and just got shat upon, and I won't (ever) do it again...."

Ad nauseum.

As members of the living Body of Christ in community, Christians are called to do otherwise when Jesus, at the Last Supper, predicts Peter's denial and instructs his followers to "love one another as I have loved you." (John 13:34)

Easy to listen to; tough to do.

Some "fundamentalist" sects who believe in the literal verbatim interpretation of the Bible (the historical genesis of the Southern Baptists, around the issue of Biblical / Old Testement approval of slavery) see this "love EVERYbody" discipline from Jesus as one that is not for our time now, but later when we are in heaven.

Nice try.

What if THIS here and THIS now is our "Heaven," or at least Heaven's foyer?

How is it "easy" to love one another as Christ has loved us (which was such unconditional Love that the story ended with Jesus' death for the sake of future untold generations?) Like my mentor Larry Wingett says:

you just DO it. If you need to change, then CHANGE!

What we need to do underneath that is to realize that in order to love better and without question, we have to follow the example of Christ and just give it all away! Think of our loving self as a large cup: as long as we keep all that love inside us and never pour any of it out, that's all we ever have.

What happens to a cup of water left sitting on a shelf, never drained, never filled ... just sitting?

Yea.

Instead, in your meditations and your travels through the streets do ALL that you can to pour out ALL the love from that imaginary cup. Scary as that sounds ("OMG! I'll be left with just an empty cup!!") you will see the most mysterious thing happen: it refills!

And the more you empty that imaginary cup, the sooner you see that it re-fills, always fresh, always there, always ready to be poured out again so that more can come back, cooler and more sweet than the filling before.

That's a tough practice, and it goes against every but... but... that you can drag up. And as that practice grows and you see that it's impossible for that cup to ever truely be empty, lovingkindness passes from you to others and you're not even seeing the process happen: you just... change.

In your meditations today, in the quiet of your prayer closet where it's just you and the Maker, seek patience and strength to pour out that whole imaginary cup to see what happens. Start there, in that quiet time - giving back all that love to your Maker in your meditations and prayers, and there - you two alone will start that process of empty the cup... refill ... repeat.

Need help? Need a sounding board? Drop a comment here or contact me privately at scribe@sacredpauses.com

Go in peace toLOVE and serve the Lord!

- Amen

The Monkey and the River

by Mark Nepo

It is said a great Zen teacher asked an initiate to sit by a stream until he heard all the water had to teach. After days of bending his mind around the scene, a small monkey happened by, and, in one seeming bound of joy, splashed about in the stream. The initiate wept and returned to his teacher, who scolded him lovingly, "The monkey heard. You just listened."

With the best of intentions, we often build false careers of studying the river without ever getting wet. In this way, we can ponder great philosophy without ever telling the truth, or analyze our pain without ever feeling it, or study holy places without ever making where we live sacred.

In this way, we can build a cathedral on the water's edge, spending all our time keeping it clean. Or we can count our money or say our prayers, without ever spending anything or ever feeling God's presence. In this way, we can play music or make love skillfully without ever feeling the music or our passion.

The apprentice was brought to tears because the monkey, slapping and yapping its way in the river, had landed in a moment of joy, and the apprentice knew that all his reverence and devotion and meditation hadn't brought him the joy of a monkey.

The river, of course, is the ongoing moment of our living. It is the current that calls us to inhabit our lives. And no matter how close we come, no matter how much we get from staying close with a sensitive heart, nothing will open us to joy but entering the stream.

I once was on a screened-in porch on a lake I used to visit every summer for twenty years. My friend and I were watching it rain, as we had done countless times over the years. Suddenly, like that simple and beautiful monkey, my friend bounded up, slapped the screen door open, tracked his clothes, and jumped into the rain-filled lake.

I watched like the apprentice, feeling the pain of always being dry, and then I shed my clothes and jumped in too.

There we were: in the center of the lake, water from above in our mouths, in our eyes, pelting us, water entering water, lives entering their living.

Each pelt of rain, on us and in the lake, uttering … joy, joy, joy.

As you move through your day, notice your interactions with others and with the life around you.

Notice if you are watching what is happening or if you are a part of it.

If you are watching, place your heart in the stream of what is before you, the way you might dip your hand in running water.

Do this by opening your heart with your outbreath and letting life in with your inbreath… Watch and be…

Open and let in…

Listen and get wet…

- Amen

Call to Prayer - Our Prodical Prayer

(Based on Pslam 10:11-12)

When we cry:
"God has forgotten, he covers his eyes and never sees!"

Arise, Lord! Lift up your hand and do not forget us, the helpless.

- Amen

Video: My Address, part 2

The second part of the video series on at-risk sexual minority youth, at the Hetrick-Martin Institute in New York City.






- Amen

Praying Over Pills

Some of us, at some point in our lives, might have to spend a lot of time doling out our own, or someone else's daily medications.

In my case, I fill up all the daily pill slots on Sunday night so I'm all set for the week, and won't forget anything with the variances of pills and potions that move in and out of my weeks. I now have a lifetime of doing this weekly ritual, another quiet time of just me and God at the very core of my physical being - the medicines that make me feel better, or that sustain life.

The literal usefullness beyond the prayer time benefit is that I can safely look at one place in my world, and see that, if it is Tueday and it is Noontime, then these are the medications I have to take.

Do you spend any time thinking about what you're doing as you medicate?

As part of your spiritual practice, if you are "married to" the pill minder for yourself or one in your care, think about your gratitude in having those medications to help. Also think about those who for various circumstances or locations might not be as lucky as you. And think about those like pharmacists and nurses and doctors who help to administer them. All those belong in our prayer too.

I wrote this in the responsive form of the Episcopal Prayers of the People, repeating to myself as I drop the pills into the slots:

For all of those who live with this same illness.

For all of those who need these medicines and cannot acquire them.

For all of those who brought these medicines into being.

For all who administer these medicines for the aid of others, we pray to you, O God.

Lord, hear our prayer.

- Amen