The Art of Going to Bethlehem

One of my fondest memories of Christmas when I was a boy was lying on the floor, leaning on my elbows, in front of the train platform under the tree. I watched endlessly as my Lionel electric trains circled the little village that was dusted with artificial snow. The lights in the houses went on and off automatically because my father set them up with a timer. It was like being transported to an idyllic world in which everything was just the way it was supposed to be.

Though on the one hand, it seemingly had little to do with a holy child being born, on the other hand it had a lot to do with it. What I mean is that the most important thing about the story of Jesus' birth is the feeling that it is divinvely intended to generate--a feeling of joy, love, peace, hope, and promise. In other words, whatever brings those feelings to any one of us in this season is like going to Bethlehem and looking into a manger and celebrating with the fullness of wonder.

A rainy October day out on the farm. I'm sitting at the desk by the kitchen window looking out over the golden hayfield with a faint view of Baldpate Mountain in the distance. I'm thinking about the seasonal transformation that's occurring right before our eyes and the way in which a new season seems to bring an element of hope to those who are longing for change. I realize that we probably all have our favorite time of year and are often sorry to see it fade away as the world moves us along through the years of our lives.

This time of year especially brings the poetry of Robert Frost to mind for me. In my perhaps lack of literary sophistication, I prefer poems that speak about ordinary life in subtly grand ways. That's why the works of Billy Collins, two time U.S. Poet Laureate, are also at the top of my list. Collins writes about everyday objects and scenarios in a manner that delightfully captures an almost mystical essence of things we simply take for granted or don't even notice.

Many years ago I was invited to perform some music at a poetry reading that featured the works of local amateur poets. I was astounded by the maudlin tone of the evening. Every poem was either about death, suffering, or general human misery. Apparently the idea was that only that kind of outlook on life was worth considering and had any meaning. It seemed as if each poet was trying to outdo the others by rendering even more grotesque images of life.

In the meantime, between readings, I was performing folk songs and the music of John Denver. I was beginning to feel very shallow and almost embarrassed to be joyfully singing about the other side of life. Then all of a sudden I had what the Japanese call a "satori"--an instant awakening. I suddenly saw that it was my job to try and help lift people out of the poetic doldrums. Each time it was my turn, I sang even more joyfully and heartily.

Some of the poets looked a bit disturbed for me interrupting their gruesome images of the human condition, but I kept right on anyway. Honestly, we were a poor match. I regret having felt in any sense competitive. The persons who had arranged the evening had heard me perform before and decided that I'd be a fit ingredient to an artsy event.

The point is that, as far as I'm concerned, while I recognize that life does, in fact, contain a sizable element of misery for many people, to focus on that alone as if it were the whole of life, is not just a depressing outlook, but is counterproductive to making the world a better place. One of the responsibilities of those who would change the world for the better--shift it into a new season--is to become aware of even the simple joys of life. Those are found right with the everyday world in which you and I live. Perhaps that sounds trivial, but I believe that with my whole heart.

If possible, find time to sit quietly and read some poetry during this season of transformation. Or put on some music that has a poetry all its own and sit quietly and meditatively, listening to every nuance of artistry. Or write your own poem as you look out the window or as you take a walk. But by all means, be thankful for the delightful elements of everyday life that make being here a wonder.

ORANGE IS FOR FALL

I'm going with an orange font in celebration of Fall. Looking at some of the events happening in our world at present, someone might very well say "What's there to celebrate?" And, of course, I understand that sentiment because there is a lot of restlessness and anger being expressed, not the least of which is that which is now happening on Wall Street, and it's spreading rapidly and extensively. And that's just one thing going on our in country alone, not to mention a multitude of turmoil in the rest of the world. I don't need to go into further detail because I'm sure you are aware of many things through the news.

The truth is that there have always been issues confronting the human family, some worse than others and some seemingly never-ending. Along with that, there also have always been doomsayers of every size and shape. Pacing preachers on TV pointing out biblical passages that they proclaim mean that the end is near; cynics who insist that humanity is going down the tubes; political pundits who contend that "this is the worse that it's ever been;" people having daily conversations on the street or elsewhere that sharpen the thorns of one anothers' anxiety; media organizations, wanting to get their ratings up, turning drama into melodrama.

It's true that things are far from perfect--can't argue that point. It's true both individually and communally. Something else is also true though. In spite of imperfect conditions, it's the only world we've got and the only life (as far as I know) we will ever have (excluding whatever life lies beyond this plane of existence). And our stay here is really quite brief no matter how long we live. As a matter of fact, as I'm getting older that fact comes home to me every once in awhile when I consider that not that long ago I was three years old, then ten years old, then a teenager, then 25, etc. And now, I'm semi-retired; what just happened?

As I see it, it's probably good therapy to let off steam sometimes, but it's not a good place to live permanently. It's not good mentally, spiritually, or emotionally. I like what the Dalai Lama teaches his followers. In the very first sentence of the book The Art of Happiness, he says, "I believe that the very purpose of our life is to seek happiness." People can scoff at that and say that that is a pretty shallow, self-centered point of view. And it would be if our seeking was at the expense of the happiness of others. Yet, think how much healthier the world would be if our goal in life was to concentrate not on what's wrong with the world, but what's right with it.

Life and the world and the people within it will never be perfect (that includes you and me). There will always be times when things are worse than another, personally and communally. There will most likely always be diseases, wars, economic downturns, natural disasters, and the presence of evil in the world. That's called the human condition. However, solely fixing our attention on that side of life gets us nowhere. Would you agree? Oh, on the other hand, it does get us somewhere. It gets us into the worlds of depression, hopelessness, futility, and anger, just to name a few.

But life is extremely short, even if you live to a "ripe, old age," as we say.

Second Thoughts

DRINKING "COWBOY COFFEE" AFTER THE STORM

Ever since Irene swept through our area I've felt compelled to blog about it. I started to write something I was calling "A Dark and Stormy Night" (very original, I thought), but then I abandoned it. I guess what's going on for me is that, even though I was inconvenienced for a week by the loss of power and thereby the loss of internet, water, land line telephone and TV (TV not a big deal), I still have my family, friends, the house I love and live in, my health, and almost everything, with a couple of exceptions, I had before she stormed her way through.

I think my initial reaction was to be a bit dramatic--maybe even melodramatic--as if I had gone through some gigantic ordeal. As it turns out, however, what about the people in Vermont who lost a whole town? What about the people down in Texas who are losing homes and treasured possessions in an incredible fire that's raging like Hell itself? What about the people anywhere on this planet who are suffering some agonizing trauma having lost someone near and dear to them? What about those who don't know where their next meal is coming from? Well, you get the idea.

Sorry for sounding so preachy. It's not the point of this blog to just give me another pulpit. I guess overall though, for myself, I can't help thinking that the very least I can do is to take a couple of deep cleansing breaths and appreciate my good fortune. Then to take the time to remember those I just mentioned in my thoughts and prayers, and live a joyful, thankful life
as if life were a precious gift because it is. And so is yours.

The experts of your life...

Today I was thinking about how many experts there are in the world for just about any topic you can imagine. Of course, for me I'm particularly interested in the gurus of spiritual living. Most of them are revealing "secrets," as if somehow a clandestine force has been keeping these secrets away from the average person for centuries. They sell books and CD's on the latest seven steps, nine steps, 19 steps, 21 steps to a better you or a better life or to achieving prosperity or peace or changing your life from bewilderment to happiness.

And just for the record, I like a lot of those for the suggestions they make that are easily overlooked. For instance, common sense things that we all need to be reminded of: "Don't concentrate on the problem; put your energy into the solution;" "If you want to achieve anything in life, have a clear picture of what it is you want;" and, "Don't quit too soon." There are tons more.

They are reminders, really. We all know that stuff, but we just don't remember to apply them. The point is that they are not "secrets." No one has hidden them from us. No one is against our having a happy life. There isn't some evil force at work that patrols the perimeters of our lives so that we won't wander aimlessly into a pasture of contentment.

One of our problems is that we expect life to be perfect. Society has taught us that. A student has no validity unless he or she gets all A's and B's. No one has lived a successful life unless they are very rich or head of a large corporation or the most beautiful physical representation of a human being or...or...well, you get the idea. So we turn to the experts who are going to give us the secret to being whatever it is that we think we should be.

I also want to be clear about the fact that there are thousands of books that give guidance in spectacular ways about very complex life issues. I am not, by any means, against any of those. I love reading books that offer new insights into my perception of life or some situation therein. Many have radically changed my life for the better. However, what bothers me most probably has more to do with semantics than anything. The word "secret" is my personal hangup. It makes it seem far too mystical, available to only a privileged few.

I think (and of course this is my own opinion), you and I are the experts of our own lives, but no one has ever told us that. Success and happiness to me is accepting the fact that life has it's ups and downs, but we work to make it as good as we can. We search ourselves and discover what is our greatest gift to make the world a better place: an ongoing ability to smile and comfort people; an artistic flare that adds beauty and wonder to life; a pragmatic skill that enables life to flow more easily and for people to live more comfortably; a passion for social causes that stirs the conscience of others to contribute; a presence that brings good and healing energy to a room or an individual. Again, each of us holds our own secret to life. It's found in loving ourselves, being ourselves, and trusting ourselves. That, I believe, is God's intention.

Who You Are

Who do you think you are? I've discovered that that question has a lot of answers depending on what mood you're in or a particular scenario you're describing. Of course, it can always be answered by listing the roles you play--mother, father, sister, brother; or boss, employee, owner; or friend, neighbor, acquaintance. You can think of some others.

Robert Fulghum of All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten fame (great little book if you haven't read it), said in another one of his books that one of the first question we ask one another when we're getting acquainted is What do you do? He says that he likes to answer it according to what he has been doing most recently. If he was cleaning house, he tells people that he is a janitor. He said something similar to a woman on a plane while he was flying to give a talk in a church on the west coast. Later, as he was speaking, he looked out in the audience and there she was. [It was on Fire When I Lay Down On It]

Anyway, the point is that it is a deeply personal question--Who do you think you are? I have an answer to suggest. It's actually going to be the topic of my sermon this week. I don't know if you've ever realized it or not, but each of us is the answer to someone's prayer...maybe a lot of peoples' prayers throughout our lifetime.

Sound a little outrageous? It's not. Sometimes unknowingly we give just the right answer to someone who has been in a time of confusion or we offer support when someone has been feeling alone or we are in just the right place at the right time to help somebody in an emergency. There are several situations where this applies. When things are operating with true synchronicity, we are each playing the perfect role, undefined by social labels.

Maybe what each of us should think about as we go about our daily lives is serving one another as if we might be the answer to their prayer that day.

"You Is Gettin' Learned"

It's 4:30 a.m. and my wife is just leaving for work. A few times a week she has to be at Whole Foods by 5 a.m. We have coffee together, and then off she goes. In our conversation this morning we were talking about Charlie--an elderly man of 95 or 96 who is a member of my congregation in Florence. He's an avid fisherman and is taking the time to teach me how to catch some trout because last year the only thing I caught was a chair (it was mine, by the way--it fell off the dock and into the water). Charlie's a great guy and very intelligent and active.

Commenting on the fact that he's coming up here tomorrow (the beginning of trout season) to take me fishing along the canal, Chris jokingly said, "You is gettin' learned." I want to be clear that that's not the way Charlie talks and she wasn't making fun of anybody, she was just reflecting with delight on his good natured insistence that it is actually possible to teach me the art of catching trout. His is a generation that believes in great possibilities since they have lived through some pretty difficult times. As generations have since been influenced by better times in some ways (although I don't want to go too far in that thought), some of us, myself included, have been less inclined to think along those lines.

Anyway, as one who desires to be more creative and able in certain areas of life, the fact that Charlie believes so readily that I can be taught a skill that I have never been very successful at is an inspiration in itself. I'm not saying that I can become a great fisherman or photographer or artist or writer, etc., but there are things I can actually learn to at least do better. And those things could enhance my life in some very meaningful ways. The fact that I'm semi-retired is an advantage, but even before retirement, the possibilities were still there. However, I would often dismiss the idea that I had any hidden abilities to any degree--that is to say, that I was teachable.

I don't think I'm alone in that. I believe it's a fairly common way of thinking. And yet, I'm excited about learning how to do something new and properly even though it seems completely unfathomable to me. Charlie's willing and kind spirit makes me realize that there are possibilities for enhancing my life that I have far too quickly dismissed as out of the question. So if any of you see me standing behind an easel with a pallet and brush in hand or at a craft show trying to sell my latest creation made out of pine cones and egg cartons, at least stop by and say "hi."

Chet Atkins, the great guitar virtuoso, once said: "Approach [your] guitar intelligently, and if there are limits, don't deny them. Work within your restrictions. Some things you can do better than others, some things you can't do as well. So accentuate the positive."

With that in mind, I can't wait to taste those fresh-caught trout tomorrow night!

Be here now...

It hardly seems possible to me, but I've been retired for almost two years! It's been an interesting transition going from full-time to part-time. Sometimes when I wake up, I think what do I have to do today? Of course, there is always plenty to do except that hardly anyone will notice, one way or the other.

When I was the pastor of the Cranbury United Methodist Church, I seldom took a formal day off during the week. I had set office hours from 9 till noon, and then most days, back again after lunch or out making calls. Many times I walked to the office, stopped by Teddy's restaurant and picked up coffee, and chatted with people throughout the morning as they came into the church for one reason or another. 25 years of that in Cranbury.

But now, the world is a different place for me. Chris gets two days a week off, and they're never the same, but because I mostly don't have any place in particular I have to be, we can arrange to spend those days together, whatever they are. The rest of the time is pretty much mine, except for my part-time obligations to the church in Florence.

The thing I wonder about is: How did I get here to this stage of my life? Retirement always seemed like a lifetime away. You know, when you're a kid and you and your friends would spin around in place until you got so dizzy that you just fell down? Well, no, that's not quite it. If you've ever been put under anesthesia for some reason, and then suddenly you're being waked up? Yeah, that's closer to it. It all seems so sudden, and that day that was so far off is suddenly your present tense. The difference, of course, is that under anesthesia you don't know anything about what went on while you were under, but I remember quite well so many of the events and circumstances of my Cranbury years. And still, the time went incredibly fast.

Sorry for the rambling nature of this, but I just wanted to say that in spite of how things seem in the passing of time, it's all really very fast, very fast indeed. If you're a parent, one moment you're holding an infant and changing diapers and reading bedtime stories and all the other things that parents do. Then the next thing you know, your kids are driving and are probably taller than you and have their own opinions about things (which is the way it's supposed to be, by the way.)

The Buddhists have a saying that simply goes: "Be here now." I've thought about that so many times..."be here now." The wisdom in that is invaluable! Be present in all times of your life--good and bad. Learn from the bad, celebrate the good. It's all life. John Lennon said, "Life is what is happening to you while you're making other plans."

I will say quite sincerely and honestly, thank you to all my family, friends, and acquaintances with whom I have been journeying along the way! It is the people of our lives, with whom we spend time and work and play together that makes being here now so rich and wonderful!

These are the times that try men's souls...

Someone once said that patience is a virtue and people have been quoting that ever since. Well, let me say this about that: patience is not only a virtue, it's also equivalent to a four-letter word: hard! I know that to be true for me anyway. Here's my story for those of you who don't know it already. If you have heard it, please feel free to ignore this post; but then again, you have the freedom to ignore any post I put out there, don't you?

On December 22, 2010, I purchased a car. Specifically, I purchased a 1999 Subaru Forester. I fell in love with it, so to speak, because it was just the right price, just the right size, just the right style for the likes of somebody like me. For all intents and purposes, I test drove it and I liked the way it felt on the road. Bingo! The perfect vehicle for a retired guy living in the country--space in the back for the dog, room for buying things at Home Depot, and all wheel drive for those difficult places in which I might otherwise get stuck such as mud or snow.

I got behind the wheel to drive it home and that's when the craziness began. First, as I was joyfully gliding along the road, all of a sudden the locks started going off and on automatically, along with my headlights flashing as if possessed by a vehicular spirit. So I discovered online that there was a way to adjust that system with a reset button. So that's what I did. All seemed well--I was happy again. But the spirit returned with vengeance to the extent that I was at one point locked in the car! (Whoa! Is this where I'll spend the rest of my days?) I did manage to convince the spirit of the locks to let me out, and the next day I took the car back. They said they'd get right on it--which meant by their timing, two to three days. In the meantime, it snowed a really big snow, and I was without my all wheel drive super car to get me off the farm.

When I got it back, they had done away with the alarm system in order to prevent future lock curses from entrapping me in the otherwise friendly surroundings of my old '99. Driving the road, I happily went to my church down in Florence, NJ. On the way home on I-95, I gazed down at the gauges only to see that my car was overheating. I immediately pulled off the road to let it cool down. About a half hour later, I completed my homeward journey and, once again, the next day, I drove up to the dealer's. They'd get right on it--which, of course, meant 3-5 days in this case. It snowed again, just as heftily as before. Once again, where's my all wheel drive perfect vehicle?

You're probably getting bored with the story by this time, so I'll shorten it by saying it overheated two more times, requiring towing on one occasion. Then, pulling out of my parking place at the church one Sunday, the wheel fell off--that's right--fell off. It got towed from Florence to Lambertville. Then when I got it back three days later, I took it to a mechanic that I had had work done by through the years in Cranbury. On the way, it overheated. After looking it over, the mechanic said, "This car needs a new engine." It got towed back to the dealers, where it has been since February 15.

I know that a lot of people would have taken some pretty severe legal action by then. First, the car didn't fall under the so-called Lemon Law. Second, no matter how foolish I appear to many proactive people, I like to pride myself (and there's the problem) as one who is very spiritual. I know, I know...there's a limit, right? Okay, I get it, but that's how I am in my nature. Of course, I'm not always sure whether I'm spiritual or if that's my justification for the way I am. Anyway, I'm supposed to be getting it back today, although I've not heard anything from them.

All I'm asking is that when the day comes that I leave this dimension of life, will you please vote for my sainthood? That will make the whole matter of patience not only a virtue, but purposeful.

Weekend Guest of the Canine Variety

So, last weekend Tim came up from D.C. to keep a promise he had made to his mom on her birthday in January. His promise: to make her a birthday dinner of her choice. Her choice: a New Orleans style meal. He fixed an elegant and delicious recipe of shrimp and grits. By the way, I benefited from that as well, as evidenced by one of the pictures on the side (embarrassing, to say the least).

Accompanying Tim was Wolfie--a rather large dog of German Shepherd and Huskie mix. I have to say though, he resembles the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood, if you ask me. But he's quite self-assured and gentle, in spite of the fact that he was rescued from an abusive situation where his owners even ran him over with the car. He and our Faye played and played and played. She's still tired. The picture in this post shows them playing a spontaneous game of tug-of-war.

Now here's your assignment: Look above Wolfie's head and see if you can see the orb (a circle of light). I'm going to get crazy on you now. An orb represents and is the presence of a spirit. (You still there?) We are familiar with them and have other photos with them in as well. And to answer a question you may be pondering--no, the camera lens was not dirty or wet or reflecting light from anything. You might find it interesting to check some of your own photos. You have to look carefully, but you might be surprised that there was the presence of one or more spirits hovering in your life when you least expected it.

When Reality Is Even Better than the Idea

I just got back from a hike on Baldpate Mountain with our dog, Faye. She's quite a trailblazer, and kept me on track when I might have wandered off into a briar patch. Anyway, as we were hiking along, I got to thinking not just about the beauty of the day, but about how glorious of a gift it was to be able to be doing this. I mean, I'm 68 years old as of this past February, but I am still able to get outdoors to do the things that I love. Then, I got to thinking about the fact that the idea of hiking today was a splendid one, but the reality of it was even better.

Are you familiar with the saying "Sometimes an idea is better than the reality"? It's one that I've often quoted myself, and in so doing, convinced myself that that is some kind of natural law. Truth is, it isn't. It's a state of mind that we've bought into so easily that we believe that it is the way things have to be.

I've been thinking about a Lenten series I want to offer at my church in Florence and it suddenly struck me while Faye and I were walking: "When Reality Is Even Better than the Idea." I'm pretty excited about that. It's a definite paradigm shift that I think we all could use, and it's extremely spiritual in nature. Why should we be so conditioned to assume that the realities of our everyday world are always going to be less exciting than our imaginations can conceive of them?

Out of the hike today, I've decided that on Wednesdays April 6, 13, and 20 at 7:30, I will hold a worship/workshop at the church (I'll be putting the congregation to work a little bit) on that theme. I'll use my guitar for the music. I'm sorry if this sounds like an ad, but I'm very inspired about this idea and want the reality of it to be even better. There's no cost involved other than your time. It will approximately be an hour each evening. Let me know if you're interested so that if you plan to attend, I can have enough materials for everyone.

Keeping Your Eyes Open

I frequently look for signs--not Burma Shave signs--SIGNS. I personally believe that divine windows that help us peer into the otherwise unseen spiritual world are around us, perhaps everyday. I realize, of course, that that is potentially a risky thing because we might assign meaning to something that just happens to be coincidental. But, then again, unless it involves something like jumping off a bridge, it may be worth taking that risk.

Last Sunday morning, Chris and I were sitting at the dining room table. She was going through the mail and I was working on thoughts for my sermon (as seen above).

Suddenly Chris said to me, "Hey! Look at that!" And she pointed to one of the candles on the table. Then I saw it too! One of the candles that had been lit for my birthday dinner the previous week had an undeniable image formed in the wax drippings at the top. Take a look for yourself at the picture over to the right.

If you were to ask me what I think it means, I couldn't specifically answer that. It could mean a lot of things. But in general I feel like it's some kind of blessing or affirmation. Signs don't always have to be specific, per se, and frequently aren't. They are just indications that God, angels, spiritual guides, etc. are very much with you and supporting you. They are meant to comfort and encourage.

So keep your eyes and heart open. You might be very surprised what you see on an otherwise quite ordinary day.

This Dragon's Head appeared in our fireplace one night!

Me again...

It's been awhile since I paid any attention to my blog due to a lot of circumstances. I got very preoccupied with other things during the holidays and kind of left this behind. But I now have a renewed interest in doing some writing, and sharing my thoughts with anyone who may care to read them. Nothing profound, I assure you. But I've been working on my spiritual life in some new ways which I have found extremely helpful. I have been particularly interested in an ancient Hawaiian practice called ho'oponopono. It's a kind of clearing exercise that helps get rid of some of the things that have been programmed into our unconscious mind. In a way, it's a mantra, but it's also a prayer. The experience it provides is to deepen your sense of the Divine.

Those of you who are very linear may think of it as hokey. I understand that. It does sound a little bit like a new age concept. But I have found it to be a very meaningful and reassuring practice. I guess it's a matter of to-each-his-own. I would suggest that anyone who is looking for a different and prayerful practice to give it a try. You can read more about it online, particularly regarding a very powerful story of Dr. Hew Len. Using this practice, he has been attributed for the healing of some criminally insane inmates who were institutionalized in a hospital in Hawaii. This he achieved without once seeing the patients themselves. Apparently it's very well documented. There's a lot more behind the concept of ho' oponopono, but for now the practice is simply this:

Repeat the phrases I love you, I'm sorry, Please forgive me, Thank you. And say them over and over either aloud or in your head. You are saying it to God or to your inner self. Also I highly recommend you go to YouTube and listen to a few of what's there under the same name: ho' oponopono.