Surprising gifts

Over the weekend I had the wonderful gift of making two new friends -- and they are relatives! A second cousin and his wife were coming to town to bury the ashes of his mother in the family plot at a local cemetary; I invited them to stay overnight in our Guest House.

We had met once before, but hadn't had much chance to get to know each other. This single overnight here in KY, from Fri. to Sat. afternoon, provided space and time to remedy that. We hit it off famously! Two of my sisters came over because neither of them had met this couple, and they wanted to connect. By the time we parted, all 5 of us felt we had started a great friendship and strengthened family ties that had pretty much been ignored in the past.

We never know, do we, when surprising gifts are out there waiting for some gesture or effort so they can unfold in our lives. I hope I can be at least a little more alert to possibilities that are latent around us.

a kentucky monk

More images catch my mind

Since I wrote about images the other day, I guess I've become more sensitive to them.
This morning at prayers my mind was more tuned in to the countless pictures created by the words of the psalms.

The imagery that caught my attention today was the vivid language used by the psalmist to describe the bad things he was calling down on the enemies of Zion. (This brings up a whole other topic of how they expected God to treat people who did bad things to them.  Since this reflection is about images, I'll wait and see if the other topic comes up in my thoughts at another time!)

Anyway, the psalmist says:
    May all who hate Zion be put to shame and turned backward.
    Let them be like grass on the housetops
    that withers before it grows up,
    with which reapers do not fill their hands
    or binders of sheaves their arms.....

The striking imagery of how God was expected to treat the enemies of Zion really jumped out at me.  First of all, to be shamed would, in itself, be terrible, for honor was at the core of relationships in this culture. Then to have the grass on your housetop and in your fields get so dry that it produces nothing. In this desert land homes would heat even more because the roof had no protection, the crops would fail, and food would become very scarce. This is a quite timely image for us in our country because daily we experience or read about what havoc the draught is causing in many regions.

This prayer says to me that the psalmist had great confidence in God. While I would not feel comfortable praying anything comparable to this about someone I was having trouble with, it seems to fit what I understand of the culture of the time where tribal rivalries generated much hostility. However, if I could take that degree of confidence and mingle it with my understanding of how Christ showed us how to treat our "enemies," I think my spiritual life would be a lot stronger.

a kentucky monk

Some images that speak to me of God

I am a visual learner; images really help me understand things. For example, I find a map or printed directions much more helpful than oral description. I had an experience during retreat that reminded me of how important images are in my spiritual life, and it took me back to the poetry of Hafiz, a 14th century writer in Persia (now Iran).

The book I Heard God Laughing is the renderings of Hafiz' poetry by Daniel Ladinsky, an American midwestern poet who lived years in India. (He calls his work "renderings" because his goal is to capture the spirit of Hafiz rather than give readers a  literal translation.)

The image that caught my eye this time was: “Pulling out the chair beneath your mind and watching you fall upon God” O that I could let go of my own plans and develop that kind of trust when things go awry. (If you are interested in reading a little more on this, I plan to write about it next week in our monastery blog: http://stwalburg.blogspot.com. )

Some of the other Hafiz images that I really appreciate:
* "We all sit in God's classroom" (page 41) - This sounds so much like Benedict and his image of the "school of the Lord's service"
* "I bow to God in gratitude and I find the moon is also busy doing the same." (p.37). It reminds me of a poem I wrote some 60+ years ago in high school: "I saw the moon aleisure on through a cloud-filled sky. I stopped and thought within myself,'What a God have I.'"
* "My heart sits on the arm of God like a tethered falcom suddenly unhooded." (P. 97)The freedom we have without realizing it!
* "God is trying to sell you something but you don't want to buy" (p. 13). Like any sales person, God is limited by my choices. I can't be forced because of the freedom God created within us from the beginning.
* "The saint is now continually tripping over joy."(p. 127)  Isn't that a neat idea? I know some people who seem to have that ability already. Maybe I'll get better in that department!

There are many more thoughts and images from this ancient writer that resonate with me. Maybe I'll come back to him in a future blog.

a kentucky monk

Recognizing gifts for our spirit

Have you ever had it happen to you that someone famous or a person you hardly knew died and you found yourself unexpectedly touched? That occurred for me a couple of weeks ago when composer Marvin Hamlisch died. Of course I knew I loved his music, but when I heard the news that he died, my heart felt heavy. That was something I hadn’t expected.

 I wondered why I had this reaction; after all, I didn’t know the man, and I wasn’t especially drawn to his public appearances. Then I realized that Marvin’s music regularly found openings thru which to come inside and touch my spirit; I didn’t even have to be paying attention. His melodies and rhythms would cause me automatically to toe-tap or drift off into another space.

As I reflected on this often unconscious experience, it dawned on me he had given me a gift. Through his music, and with hardly any effort on my part, he put me in touch with a part of my soul. I don’t know exactly what it was in me that his music touched, but it might have to do with deeper realities – freedom, connection, or maybe just appreciation of beauty.

My thoughts went further, and I realized how often someone enriches my life without my even taking note of it. It could be the person I meet in passing who makes me think “I’d like to get to know her,” or the person I rub shoulders with frequently whom I can’t wait to move elsewhere. Both of these hold within them some gift for me. Sometimes, as with Marvin Hamlisch, the fact there is a gift is obvious; I just need to become more conscious of its significance. In other cases, however, the gift may even be uncomfortable, but it is there. In these cases I’m being called to discern where the meaning or the “teachable moment” lies.

So, the next time I hear Marvin’s music, I’ll recognize the gift, but I’ll also be reminded to put up my antenna to try receiving the gifts that come from the other people and situations around me.

a kentucky monk