There are many in our community who hunger in so many different ways.  The outcast, the shut-in, the different.

By providing them with what they need.  Be it companionship, food or a safe place.

Grace and peace to you.

John

Who is hungry in your community?  How can you help feed them?

Physically - I think there are some families and individuals in my community that a good meal on a regular basis is not in their lives - for a variety of reasons - poverty, addiction, mental health issues.  Some of the hungry are children, some are adults.

I have helped feed them In several ways and at different times.  I have supported our local foodbank and school breakfast and lunch programs.

But, I could do more.  This is a reminder that I want to make a cash donation to the foodbank - and will have to follow through on that.  There are other food programs I could also support.  I have personally never volunteered at any of them . . . something to think about.

Spiritually - I think some of the same people who are physically hungry are spiritually hunger.  And of course there are others who are spiritually hungry for other reasons and in other ways.

I have helped feed them by doing what I can with my time and resources to keep the doors of my church open - which offers a place to go.  I have helped individuals in times of need with my presence, encouragement, and prayers. 

But again, I could do more.  I could become more involved in the life of someone who is needing help and compassion.  I could give more of my time and myself to help others.

Hunger is many things and many people feel hungers. Some hunger for bling, some for money, some for sex, for entertainment, for "stuff", some for justice, some for power, some for basic necessities,… some hunger simply for a smile of recognition. A whole industry (advertising) is devoted to inculcating hunger. And hungers have proliferated where there is most wealth.

It's odd, but people seem to be the only creatures on the planet that can learn to never satiate. So shopping is talked about as a "therapy"… the act of accumulation become compulsive. I cannot feed such people.  Satiation is necessary for our species' survival.

But I do try to feed those who need come company, some food, some sharing, some friendship… I treat cooking as a privilege and an art and try to make what I cook (I do the cooking in our home) beautiful, healthy, satisfying, ethical,  sociable and fun… without spending much and without greed. And I try to give in other ways that satidfy needs rather than hungers… although I do encourage appreciation of the beauty and abundance that enables us to feel graced without needing to accumulate anything.

Because of being "the liberated", I am hyperaware and careful that "take up your cross' has been used and often is still heard as glorification of suffering, docility or subservience (especially  women), and encouraging victimhood. I won't do that.

So, I like to explore what we have done, with our theology and our dogma....

Think of our language...
 "that is their cross to bear"

Listen to our hymns...
 

Nobody in the time of Jesus would have said that stuff!

The cross, crucifixion, was a cruel, shame filled way of execution because what you did challenged the authorities, the powers that be.

So, for me,  discipleship is not easy-peasy, it means at a cost, it means risk...
If we think it doesn't, then we likely are not doing it right.

While taking up one's cross does imply carrying a burden there is, I believe, more to carrying one's cross than bearing one's own burdens.

Part of taking up one's cross is laying down one's life.  Crosses are not for picnic or anything else we might find pleasant.  To be hung on a cross (and who carries their own cross thinking that they will not have to hang from it?) means to become a nobody and it means to be rejected by community.

While those are heavy burdens taking up one's cross means that one assumes those outcomes are very real possibilities.

Depending on one's Christology or Soteriology there is also the awareness that by taking up one's cross it simply is not one's own burdern that will be carried.

Yes, there are people in my life whom I continually pray for.

Grace and peace ot you.

John

We've all heard the . . . "well it's just my/her/his cross to bear" . . . when someone has an unresolveable life-challenging situation.

In my past, I always kind of struggled with that theory.  And now where I am in my faith journey, I find it even harder to reconcile with this type of thinking.

In our life, we are always going to have situations that are challening (and somedowns downright crappy) - but I don't think that they are given to make us stronger, braver, or closer to God (although in all our life experiences we can become stronger, braver, and closer to God.) 

We are to always seek and hope.

This quote from the Bible tells us we are to take up our cross and follow Jesus.  The Bible tells us Jesus took up a cross . . . and we are to do the same.  To me, it is not in the "taking up of the cross" and resigning to our sufferings, but rather, following Jesus and what the Bible indicates he was doing by it - reconciliation to God.  That is what we are to do daily . . . reconcile ourselves to God . . . and we do this by loving, serving, and helping others with compassion and thanksgiving and love.

I know that in the past I have thought of 'taking up my cross' as a personal physical burdening of my own and others problems. That not only was I to be aware of the problems, but I was also to solve them. However, predictably, as SG hints at above in describing victimhood, this attitude only led me to burn-out--physically, mentally and spiritually.

And, in the past I have also thought that 'taking up my cross' should not be just easy, that if it was, I wasn't doing it right. So then, if I was feeling so burdened, then I must have been doing it really well! Only...why did all the parts of me feel so bad? Surely, I wasn't meant to go around 'helping' with such blighted energy.

Now, I am wondering about a different way of 'taking up my cross'. The discussion about tonglin in the reflection for today demonstrates an active way of not just 'taking up my cross', but actually being enveloped by it and breathing it in, and then, and this is the learning part for me, breathing it out again.

This means that I am no longer required to physically carry the energy of my suffering and those around me. It means that rather than going around with a 'woe is me and the world' attitude that harms rather than helps, I get to go around breathing the world in and Spirit out. By making myself a channel of peace, I am aware of myself and others in a whole new way. It is a much more equal relationship than the one that I had before, when I took up my cross as the fixer and the people around me as the fixees. 

There is an expression that 'you can only help another person as much has you have helped yourself'. Well, this is the cross that I take up now, the unending task of 'fixing myself', rather than the others, while going out and lustily breathing deeply of all the love, joy and pain of the world and then, gratefully breathing it all back out....

A local congregation has a cafe each Saturday morning. People come & visit, have a coffee and a treat.  Funds raised go to church projects; however, the biggest gain in my mind is a safe place for people to sit and visit, without rushing.  All are welcome, people move tables around, some come every week, others come once.  Just have a coffee...or...buy both.

It would be wonderful to have a place where people like in another post this week to, buy a coffee for someone who can't afford, or take one if you can't afford. ....basically put a coffee or dumpling on the wall...so that everyone can have one or a refill or a vist, without embarassment or challenge.

There is a wonderful location in our community that offers food, and there is also a great transition housing that offers meals.  I wish, though, that there were opportunites for common gathering and outreach, similair to the Church of the Holy Trinity's cafe in Toronto

Pinga have you heard of the Morning Glory Cafe in Kitchener?

http://www.morningglorycafe.net/content/about-us

How do I understand taking up my cross?

I understand it as an expression that has been cheapened over time to the point of meaninglessness.

Unless ones a martyr for the noblest of causes, I wouldn't use it. (and martyrs probably wouldn't dream of using this phrase, others say it for them)

MikePaterson wrote: "Taking up my cross” is what I do when take responsibility for my failings; it’s not about anything I suffer directly"

At first I did not know what to write about the "take up your cross" meditation. Having recently left a very strict church, I would have understood this to mean that I have to suffer, and also pray for others as they suffer. But I have learned that life is not all sufferring - that I am not placed on this earth to suffer, and that God does not desire that I suffer endlessly. That is why, MikePaterson's explanation has really spoken to me today. That "Taking up my cross" is taking responsibility for myself; for things that I have done either knowingly or unknowingly. And then doing what I can as a response. To me, this is much more hopeful.

I am experiencing some internet issues, so had to miss a couple days of this lenten discussion. But what I have been able to participate in so far, has been wonderful. I'm finding it very healing. Thanks to all who have posted their thoughts.

"In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us.

We are not alone.

Thanks be to God."

I believe these words.

And yet in God's presence, we experience loss, grief, pain, hurt, fear, illness, injury, and death.  My heart went out to this couple (and all those who have lost a child) in their loss and grief.

For me the moments have probably not been whether God is with me or not, but rather "why aren't you doing something?????"  I don't view God as a wish giver, but in times when I have been most distraught in my life I have wondered why, if God loved me so much, he wouldn't make a particular situation better for me.  When I calm down I realize God is working, just not in ways I desire or in my timing.

There are many times I feel God close to me, and I always believe God is with me, but since I have been practising a form of meditation throughout Lent early in the mornings, I feel God's presence in a unique way.

Love . . . and our action of love . . . will enable us to be the presence of God in someone else's life this day.  Sometimes we can't move the mountains, but we can offer a helping hand.

I remember having to restrain my son in a school room for 45 minutes one afternoon.  It wasn't just 45 minutes of getting in his way either, it was 45 minutes of physical restraint, just to keep him from hurting himself or others.  I was much bigger than he was at the time, and had wrestled for years with guys my size and better put together.

No referees.  My son fought with no rules and I had to keep him from getting a hold on me.  That meant keeping hands and arms out of reach of his teeth and his hands.  I have never before and never since been in such an exhausting contest and my son showed no sign that he was tiring or giving up.

It was simply a matter of time before I could restrain him no more and then whatever dark impulse was rushing through his off-balanced brain would be the price I would pay for not holding on further.

I didn't wonder where God was.  I did wonder where the hell the ambulance was.  I knew that God was as present for me then as God has ever been present for me.  I also knew that I wasn't able to still my self or my son so that I could hear.  I needed God to be louder that day.  I needed God to be the break that kept dark impulses of my own from making decisions based on what ifs and keep on the path I had started.

When finally the ambulance did arrive my son became more co-operative and I had permission to let go.  I needed help with that, as much as I wanted to I didn't have the strength to break the hold on my own, my muscles had locked and there was no gas left in my personal tank to unlock them.

For 45 minutes I wrestled with my son, listened to him tell me how he was going to kill me, took blow after blow after blow after blow and now that the ordeal was over I just wanted to roll over and go to sleep.  School officials were not okay with that.  The ambulance attendants needed to have me report to the hospital.  They were okay with me going home to change first, they would meet me there.

So I drove back to the manse, changed my clothes, fed the dogs and told my wife and the girls what was up and drove the half hour to hospital looking for and dodging moose in the dark.

The routine session with ER staff.  The routine dilemma about not having room to admit him or a proper place to admit him to.  The routine sedative.  The routine groggy walk back to the car and the drive back home through moose and dark.

Shortly after my head hit the pillow I was asleep but not before I had the chance to acknowledge just how much I had been carried through the whole ordeal and how grateful I was for that helping presence.

Tomorrow was as if yesterday never happened.  Save for the muscles in my shoulders, neck and back complaining about the overtime.

I'd be lying if I said that I felt close to God in the midst of all that.  What I felt most was sore, tired and afraid of what failing to hold on might mean for myself or my son.  Reality is more than how I feel in any given moment.  Gravity is gravity whether I'm happy about it or not.  God, like gravity, is at work even if I do not take the time to notice. So I believe that even though I could not feel God's presence I was far from alone.

The real battleground that afternoon wasn't in the physical realm where I felt the most struggle it was in my heart and in my head and if I had been permitted to panic I may have been more aggressive and more forceful than I was.  I'll never know.  I'm glad not to know.  I believe God held me back from going to that place.  I cannot prove that to anyone nor do I feel the burder of a need to prove it to anyone.

How might I be the presence of God for someone else today?

I don't believe I can plan or script life to that degree.  Ultimately, it will be my character which will allow me to be presence of God for another in whatever test or challenge that I find myself in.

Grace and peace to you.

John

What moments in your life have left you questioning where God is? When have you felt God close to you? How might you be the presence of God for someone else this day?

For many years, I didn't care.

Then god gave me an amazing experience of god-ness which left me dumbfloozled.

Since then, there have been times when I've tried to step back from god but it's never worked. 

I still don't have a description of god that matters but there are ways of being that seem more — or less — in harmony with the ever-presence of god.

There is no checklist of actions, any more than there're recipe boks for "love". 

The best I know is to urge the unique creature I am into those harmonies (though god does that all the time) … Jesus' teachings make sense of our best attempts and intentions but, as we all know, they are not "our" learnings until they're no longer intentional actions but simply expressions of who we have become when we can no longer imagine "god" as a separate entity of some sort.

In my experience, I 've had to find the truth of my "being" to begin embracing god-ness. I think we're closest to the experience of god-ness when we most wholly know and embrace our "selves". It gives us something to bring to the relationship with a bit of intentionality. I have found that intentionality helps me deepen my trust of the mystery — and it's that trust that  opens nmy eyes, mind, heart and inner self to the growing. Without trust, I'd be a clenched fist and a clenched fist never gets anyone anywhere good in a hurry.

ADDED 40 minutes later:

I just realised… I answered the question.

TRUST is how I can, try to be, and will be the "presence of god" for others: I will trust him/her.

There's nothing like trust, in my experience, to bring out the best in people… and nothing like a withholding of trust to convey judgement, stereotyping and insult…  

…and, where there's been injury in the past, there's nothing like distrust to aggravate the wound and delay healing.

Possibly.

Although I suspect the issue is not that we distrust God's ability to judge so much as we fear our inability to measure up.  We don't fear that God will blow it at judgement time, we fear that all the things we have listed as pluses in our favour will suddenly be disqualified.

So judgment and especially the fear of judgement is rooted less in our belief in God than it is our belief in ourselves.  Which is not, all things considered, that problematic.

If we can shift the focus in judgement away from the house of cards we are hoping is strong enough to withstand a stiff breeze to the one who will not break a bruised reed or snuff out a smoldering wick then we start to rest our understanding of judgment not on what will ultimately be judged but rather the one who ultimately is to judge.

I do not fear judgement.

I do not fear it because I believe that I am perfect.  Lord knows I am not and I never pretend otherwise.  If salvation ultimately is based on my merit I have no prayer and no hope.  If salvation is based on the sovereign will of God (which I have been lead by scripture to believe) then I trust God's judgment to be good.

Even if I am found wanting or I don't get what I most desire God's judgement is still good because God alone is good.

If I get exactly what my deeds in this life deserve then God is just and a just God is a good God and a just judgment is a good judgment.

If I am pardoned, despite my guilt, then God suddenly becomes Great.  At least in my eyes.

The only way God's judgment could not be good is if God decided to step out of character.

Will judgment be comfortable?  By no means.  I know that I am not perfect that has never made any discussion of my short-comings pleasant, especially when somebody else is pointing out as kindly as possible the ways I have failed.  All of that failure is dross to be purged away and while some will have more dross in their life than others it is only the pure ore of holiness and righteousness that God is after.

If I have valued what God does not then yes it will hurt to give that dross up.

That pain is not because God's judgment is bad, that pain is because my judgement was bad.

So again, I do not fear the coming judgment because I trust the one who will be my judge.  Whether I am condemned to punishment or pardoned the judgement will be a good one.

Obviously, I would place my pardon in a higher priority of goodness.

Grace and peace to you.

John

Can we learn to see God’s judgment as good, something to be anticipated with hope not dread?

--------

I certainly don’t understand the workings of judgment.

If we see god as an interventionist pulling the strings, she seems to let a lot of people suffer the consequences of others’ greed and self-centredness: the treatable diseases, the spoiled water, the slow deaths from malnutrition, the victims of war and its “collateral damage”…

If we see god as the shaper of consequences, then she does erode the souls of the guilty, she does seem to blow the bloom from their flowers and sour their satisfactions: mild stuff it may seem to a jealous onlooker.

If we imagine a call to some after-death spiritual sentencing, the tortures dreamt up by Dante and other mortal minds all seem small beer to the guilty while they’re alive and give ineffective protection to their victims.

But Dante is worth a read, even today. He gets quite nicely the hell that's implicit in our life choices.

And this is where I experience a force of judgment.

The desires of the greedy, the vicious and lustful ALWAYS disappoint: they are always unsustainable and generate ugly repercussions, denial always has its comeuppance, jealousy and fear corrode the soul… we live in the midst of messes and dangers of our own making and there are NO solutions to it that come wholly on our terms. We have to bend or we will certainly be broken.

Thanks to the trivializing of nature by the likes of Walt Disney, we have come to sentimentalise nature as “cute” and vulnerable. Climate change is the real face of nature. Nature is invincible and inexorable: if your careless way of life doesn’t suffocate you, it will certainly condemn your grandchildren  and their children to misery. War and violence forge the weapons that will one day cut the oppressor down… war begets war, not peace; violence begets retaliation, not submission. The "war on terror" should be teaching us that much.

Ah, but I have never fought a war or joined the frenzy of greed… I am innocent!

No. I am not. “Have I done enough to stop it?” is the question. And the answer is “Obviously not”. But aren’t I powerless? No. I am not.  And neither is anybody else.

How do I do more?

Instead of putting energy into rationalising my way out of confrontations with unpleasantness, I have to commit more of my time and energy and imagination to turning it around. And we can do that one person at a time.

Something as big as society moves with formidable momentum; we are lucky if we see any of the outcomes of our actions in our own time but the judgment thing comes into play here: doing what we know is right brings us, here and now, not only a particular inner peace but  also freedom from frivolous “needs’ and “wants”; it throws off our fear  and the spiritual oppression of jealousy and vanity… it helps us to live in faith and trust the mystery. Commitment brings us freedom.

A native teaching is to weigh the consequences of your actions for the seventh generation hence: wisdom we’d do well to heed.

"Can we learn to see God's judgement as good, something to be anticipated with hope, not dread?"

Well quite frankly I have miles to go before I see judgement as something to be anticipated with hope and not dread.

It does bring to mind a bit about my childhood though. When I was growing up as a teenager I couldn't wait to be on my own and be able to "call my own shots". Answer to no one and let freedom reign. The irony is that I actually had quite a bit of freedom when I was younger. I was one of those kids that "ran with scissors" and I could go out the door at 9 in the morning and only had to show up for supper around 5 but I still had to ask permission for sleepovers, dating curfews, money, the car, etc...There were still rules within the house and if I broke them, "there was hell to pay".

Imagine my surprise after "getting all growed up", and suddenly realizing it didn't mean you never had to answer to anyone for anything again but that I actually had to answer and account for EVERYTHING in my life . I was strapped with a larger amount of responsibility while simultaneously being granted a greater degree of freedom, but only if I chose to see it that way.

Sometimes I wonder, do I really know what it is that I desire about God's Kingdom without having gotten there yet? Why should I still have to answer to someone? Will love increase our freedom?

Maybe if I see Gods judgement as part of getting "spiritually all growed up" which includes a responsibility that frees us up to love one another..........maybe I could begin to look forward to God's judgement.

The worst aspect of judgement theology is the risk of exacerbating guilt: guilt paralyses. It's never an incentive to creative expressions of agape love.

Thank you for sharing your story from yesterday Revjohn, and your thoughts about your experince and how it related to the lenten reading. It was absoultely gripping for me--lots to think about. 

So, a God of compassion yesterday, and one of judgement today...Lenten reflection sure can be difficult...

I do struggle with the writer's reflection...but I will try a bite. I am thinking about this reflection more in the here and now of my daily life, not so much about after death.

It seems to me that the writer judges those running the 'justice' system in which he works because of compassion fatigue. And I believe that our society in general suffers from this. There is so much pain that we become overwhelmed and choose not to see it, not to become invloved because we are just trying to get through our own day, on time.

We all carry pain within us--we are all victims of it and of whoever caused it in the first place. But, can I really judge the person who inflicts pain on me, when they are  only acting out from the pain inflcted on them? However, I think that once we become aware of how we are hurting an other, and how to stop it, we must. But mostly we are unaware that our actions are causing distress--we are too caught up in our own world. But I think that awareness is the key. Once I beome aware, or I am made to become aware, I now have a responsibility to stop inflicting this particular pain on the world.

Which brings me to guilt, and as MikePaterson states above, it can paralyse. So now I know I have caused pain, but I feel guilty, so I can take no action. Here is where I need the God of compassion, not judgement. Stupid, selfish, unthinking, lazy me has done it (or not done it) again. I need no god to judge me harshly--I am already doing it to myself, with no good results.

When this happens, I can hear God saying to me 'wunderer what were you thinking when you did/didn't do___', and then God is saying 'stop beating yourself up...pick yourself up and let's get on with it. I'll help you make amends'.

I interpret God's judgement of me in that moment as--'Stop thinking that you are the only one who thinks/feels/hurts/acts this way, you are not so special, all humans feel these things. Move on --use your gifts--get going.'

So I view God's judgement as assessment of the situation. I don't fear it, I ask for the help. However, that is just today. Tomorrow I could be cowering in the corner, afraid of an almighty fist smashing down beside me, leaving me paralyzed with fear, instead of guilt. 

I tend to read some discussion threads without comment whether it is a Lenten study or Bible study or book threads.

I read yesterdays and wanted to reply, but I was away from home and couldn't.

Some question we ask and other questions such as this one, "What moments in your life have left you questioning where God is?", we can really avoid.

I had just come out, already feeling rather distanced from a God I was always close to. 

I had just told my mom I kissed a girl because my brother was going to. She told me to get an overnight bag, we were going for a ride. I thought we were going for a ride, to talk. Maybe we woudl check into a motel and stay overnight talking about "it". The silence in the car told me otherwise. I did not know where I was going. We lived about an hour northeast of Pittsburgh and yet that was where it seemed we were headed, where else could we be going? Was I going to be" scared straight", by showing me gay folks in the big city? My mom took the exit for Liberty Avenue, she came to a stop at the 12th Street intersection and simply said, "Get out".

Standing there, in the rain, alone, dropped off like garbage, I cannot say I felt God with me. It would be a lie.Mark Twain in Huckleberry Fin said, "you can;t pray a lie". I didn't feel God with me. I felt as abandoned by God as my mom.

I was not just questioning God. I was raging at God. I was demanding to know where God was now.  I was angry. I don't feel ashamed of guilty about it. God can take it. God, to be God, would understand. If my wife and I can, then God and I can preserve a relationship in spite of me being angry time to time.

I was raging because I should have been mad. There should be outrage at something like this. It wasn't fair. Anger I read once is "the sinew of the soul" because it gives us strength to fight against injustice.

The first place I sought shelter in, I was naive enough to say why. They told me I could not stay. You see, they believed in a God that told them that my mom was right and I needed to be homeless and without shelter to decide to change.

Soon, I was raging against God and the people of God.

It took me a long time, too long. I had no tools to rethink my understanding of God.

Then someone gave me the tools.

 (Now, I am back to avoiding threads like this and even a season called Lent)

Healing is a curious concept. As we're all bound up in biology and time — and time for us moves in just one direction — there is no physical going back to how we were or, despite the hopes of cryonicists, of losing our sense of mortality. If we see healing as mending, it will never be complete, even at its most ambitious, and do no more than keep the biological functions ticking over a little longer.

Pain is pretty much a given in life.  

Loss is inevitable.

Joy and love are available… but we have to reach for them and that can sometimes be beyond our capacities. Medicines and “procedures” can’t be counted on to help.

And, if people who’ve had more extreme experiences than me are to be believed, biological breakdowns can ruin everything…

… or reveal everything.

Healing’s best seen as living wholly.

It’s the revealing of everything  that identifies healing.  Revealing… and accepting.

Healing in this sense is available in many ways. But it’s not what doctors do; doctors work on the biology to facilitate healing. Healing comes from somewhere else.

For me, healing is, above all, means trusting the mystery.

That’s not always easy. Fear gets in the way.

I carry a palm-sized black stone. I hold it in my hand. It was smoothed long ago in a river or by the waves on some bygone shore. I have no idea where it came from. All I can see is its surface — like everything else, I suppose — so its inner nature and substance are not accessible to me. But it has weight and hardness and substance. It will outlast me and my sometimes ill-used biology.

So I use it to help remind me that, while the mystery is impenetrable to my mind, like my stone, it is with me … it even fits perfectly into the palm of my hand.

So, for me, it’s a portable meditation tool. It helps me be firm in my trust of the mystery.

It’s not the stone. It’s the use I make of it. Another stone would do. Any stone, pretty much, would do, if it fits the hand.

It’s the mystery that matters and the mystery that heals, if we accept the healing that’s offered.

Life's an adventure, not a coccoon.

As I read the devotion this morning and the scripture at the top of the chapter I continued to think about the woman who touched the hem of Jesus' garment and was healed.

I have to figure out a way to "touch the garment" as I deal with what I hope are some minor health ailments, but at this point very draining and frustrating.

As I have mentioned before in this devotional, one of the spiritual practices I am accessing is a form of mediation in the morning.  As I focus on my breathing I breath in "God/Spirit" and breath out "illness and injury".  I am not expecting instantaneous healing, but rather use this quiet time as a time to allow the spirit of God to relax me and fill me with wisdom, guidance, power, and help.  I await God's wholeness.

But . . .

anyone know where the hem of the garment is ?

Trust? Does that help, Beloved?

Mike P - it definitely involves trust.

I am with God.

I am with God in heart, mind, strength and spirit.

What would I like to tell God?  That changes from moment to moment.  Some moments it is "you're great" or "I'm thankful."  Other moments it is, "need help" or "What gives?"  So I like to tell God where I'm at.  Mostly though, I listen.

What am I surrendering to the Holy?  I hope that I am in the process of surrendering everything.  Learning to let go is still a work in progress.

Grace and peace to you.

John

Am I with God? How am I with God?

I’ve read and re-read today’s reflection. I get the bit about ego getting in the way and images of god, and sitting in the silence of god and surrendering to god’s love, getting lost in my own priorities. The desert challenge has been the theme of retreats I’ve attended. I have been pondering “am I with god?” and “how am I with god?”

And I think it’s the “with” bit that stumps me… “in” I feel; “with”? … “with”?

I am sure god is in me and at least seven billion other people, and that “in” means “with” in that sense. Does god see things my way — “gott mit uns” as the Nazi belt buckles asserted — absolutely totally not. Or… “nobiscum deus” as the battle cry of the dying Roman Empire declared? I don’t think so.

How am I “with” god? I am totally, wholly, at her mercy and rather glad s/he’s indescribable … a description would douse the thrill of discovering my own life for what it is. That discovery depends entirely on my trusting the mystery. And at least seven billion other people are embarked on the same adventure in at least seven billion other ways.

God is not “in” the unfolding, but “is” the unfolding.

How am I “with” god? I am what is being unfolded. The World is not unfolding itself to me, nor is god. I am what is being unfolded. My spiritual discipline is simply to trust.

“Sometimes we unconsciously fill our lives with noise, food, people and causes because we cannot bear to feel our own pain…” ?

Maybe. Maybe we are just confused about the paths that seem to offer themselves. Pain and life are inseparable. Pain can bring us to deeper life. Pain can tempt us to reject life. Pain is a wrestle with angels; it is a test of faith; it is of the same quality as the love. That doesn’t mean pain is “good” or something to be sought.

It simply is. Like broccoli.

But there is no avoiding it.

Death, not embracing god, is when the pain stops.

I see this more as a given, god IS and IS always available.  Problem is I forget to leave room for that mystery to be seen - not that it isn't there, but I'm just not seeing it.

I don't feel any need to sing "Jesus, Keep me Near the Cross".  Actually it makes it harder for me to get in contact with that mystery when someone else makes it clear that a particular religious tradition needs to followed. 

This is the 3rd reading in a row which is just contrary to my understanding of God, Jesus, and I just cannot find my way into the question due to the presumptions that the writer has. 

I am thankful that it is working for others.   

At this point, I will review the threads and others response, but only post if I truly can engage. 

(I just felt bad as I did committ to particpating, based on experience of other ones)

Sorry, but I'm dropping out of this discussion.  I'm not finding this book "Diving Deeply" really fits where I'm at in my faith right now.  

But mostly - things have just been very stressful with dads cancer treatment and I'm needing a different kind of sharing / support than what is offered here.

Best wishes to all and thanks for sharing.

Blessings & Peace:  PurpleDragon

Evil's a conundrum. We feel pretty certain about it when we see something hurtful. We even locate it. We like to think that evil is understood in some clear universal way. But, even within Christianity’s confines, I don’t see us agreeing about it.

It seems to me we build our Babylons and THEN begin to experience the evils we've embedded in them. We obey pragmatic impulses to compromise — as if ends justify means — then blame others when the impacts of those compromises, like weed seeds among the wheat, manifest themselves.

Jesus’ teachings about evil are very pertinent to me.

So:

"The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, the weeds showed themselves. When his servants asked if he wanted them to uproot the weeds, he told them not to “because while you are pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. Let both grow together until harvest. Then I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.” (Matthew 13: 24-40)

And there’s the whole section in Luke (6: 27-45) that links a number of insights that have a bearing on “good” and “evil” in an inseparable way:

“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you… give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you.

"There’s no virtue in loving those who love you or returning good for good…or lending to those from whom you expect repayment. “ Even ‘sinners’ lend to ‘sinners,’ expecting repayment in full.

“But,” said Jesus: “love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

“Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you.” And be generous, “for with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

“Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit? A student is not above his teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own? How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

“No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thorn bushes, or grapes from briars. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks.

Here, I always wonder about the good/bad tree: what “bad” tree bears the “evil man?” Where did the “evil stored up in his heart” come from?

Jesus goes on, in this text, to suggest that source, the evil planter in the night, the source of trees that do bear no good fruit, and even to declare the futility of the evil planter’s actions:

“Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? I will show you what he is like who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice. He is like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.”

Our Babylons all fall. We just don’t “get” history’s narratives.

Because plastic’s a solidified blend of compounds, sorting plastic out for recycling is difficult and labour-intensive.

Moral discernment is harder.

Medical diagnosis is very complicated and misdiagnosis is a common cause of death.

Moral diagnosis far more difficult and moral misdiagnosis as potentially lethal.

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you.” And be generous, “for with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

Hi Dragon: god's in you, through you, of you, surrounding and saturating you… let her get on with the cleaning, the nurturing, the loving, the dishwashing and laundry, the worrying and answering the telephone… when she gets grumpy, thet'll be the time to kick in again. But now, give god her head. She's good, she knows her stuff because it IS her stuff. Blessings and peace be with you, along with god's incomprehensible love.

Wishing you an abundance of Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love, Purple Dragon . . . you need to do what is best for you.   There may be some other threads (or start your own) that may be of more support to.  I understand why you don't want to spend precious time with something that is not meeting your needs when you have other things of concern. 

When I read this morning's lesson, the following song ran through my mind . . .

Evil grows in the dark
Where the sun, it never shines.
Evil grows in cracks and holes
And lives in people's minds.

I don't like the word "evil", but the test has chosen it, so I will go with it . . .

Evil is all around us, and sometimes in us, and sometimes consumes us . . . and we have to deal with what is happening within us . . .

But there is also good, and goodness . . .

Holy, and holiness . . .

And that is what I try to focus on and aim for.

(This thread is looking kinda funny . . . is there no longer an "edit" button . . . I wanted to correct to Purple Dragon . . . there may be other threads that may be of more support for you here on Wondercafe . . . caring thoughts are definitely with you.)

Thanks, Mike & Beloved.

Provided we were being careful to identify actual evil (defined broadly as not good) I would think that being more open would be immensely helpful.  One of the problems I have noticed in discussion about evil is that it is not unusual for evil to be specifically defined as (stuff I don't like) or (stuff others have done to me) it is rarely discussed as (stuff I have done to others).

Admittedly being more open about stuff we don't like would also be helpful.  I find that in the race to define something as evil we sacrifice the ability to be open.

I see evil in the willingness to bear false witness.  This happens sporadically in the narrative and historically with more fequency in our interpretations of the narrative.  Matthew's blood libel text and much accompanying translation is what immediately leaps to mind.

The abuses of power are, from where I sit, moral grey areas.  Often we tend to measure the activity of the past against the morality of the present which I believe has the possibility to be as false a witness as is judging the activity of today by the morality of yesterday.

Grace and peace to you.

John