Some
quiet reflective words or music that encourages us to look inward
should perhaps be part of every special occasion and every worship
service.
In this section I have included an invocation used to open a conference
on aging, a special Advent meditation and two other meditations used in
Sunday services.
This summer I visited my son in New York City and
took a bus out to New Jersey to visit an old friend. Alongside
the ramp that circles up from the Lincoln Tunnel to the Weehawken
palisades I could see the remnants of a park I played in when I was
four. That drive always makes me aware of the span of years that
is my life so far. Once I played there, before there was a tunnel
or a ramp. Later I sat in the traffic with my own little
children. Now my little children are grown. Standing here
in the middle of my life I pause to wonder at the intricate pattern of
people and events that has brought me to this particular moment in this
particular place.
And each time I contemplate the fables of the past,
my mind drifts into fantasies of the future. What will it
be like growing older? Was Browning right—that the best is yet to
be, the last of life for which the first was lived? Will I stay
healthy and independent like my father, or suffer a long bout with
cancer like my mother? Which people and places will comprise my
experiences of the future? What new streams of thought will my
mind travel? Will I feel any different? Will I be any
wiser? Sometimes it feels like a long road; sometimes the
memories of yesterday and the fantasies of the future converge in an
exciting present moment.
Kahlil Gibran says of time:
You would measure time the measureless and the
immeasurable
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the
course
Of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you
would
Sit and watch its flowing.
Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's
timelessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and
tomorrow
Is today's dream.
And that that which sings and contemplates in you is
still
Dwelling within the bounds of
that first moment which
Scattered the stars into space…
But if in your thought you must measure time into
seasons,
Let each season encircle all the
other seasons,
And let today embrace the past with remembrance and
the
Future with longing.
MEDITATION
FOR ADVENT
Advent is the time when we dare to hope.
Darkness closes in about us as the days become shorter. The human
past with its painful tragedies overwhelms us. Injustice and
oppression threaten to snuff out the brightness of the human
spirit. And yet we dare to hope, again and again. From
somewhere deep within us, in the midst of cold comes a messenger of
warmth and in the days of death there is heard the good news of life.
In the ancient world the sky goddess Nut symbolized
the eternal reliability of the heavens. Each night she swallowed
the sun in the west and each morning gave birth to it once more in the
east. Each year the sun child died and was reborn at the winter
solstice. In many areas candles were placed on a wheel of life
and lighted one by one as the time of the winter solstice approached.
We look with wonder at the rhythms of the universe.
One of the loveliest customs of Christianity is the
Advent wreath which is a variation of the old pagan wheel. On
each of four Sundays before Christmas a candle is lighted on the wreath
and Mary's time of waiting is celebrated. Little is known of the
historical Mary, but in myth and legend she too became a sky goddess
bringing light and life into the world. The birth of a child is a
symbol of hope in all cultures.
We look with wonder at the birth of a child.
In the second century before Christ, when
Greek-speaking emperors ruled over Syria and the land of the Jews, one
king tried to impose the worship of Zeus throughout his empire.
He set up a shrine to Zeus in the temple at Jerusalem and angered the
Jews. Judas Maccabeus led his people in a successful revolt on
behalf of their religious freedom. The story is told that when
the temple was rededicated, a very small amount of oil miraculously
kept the temple lamps burning for eight nights. Hanukkah, the
feast of lights, commemorates that event and it too is celebrated near
the time of the winter solstice. For eight nights in homes and
synagogues, one candle is lighted each night until eight are burning
brightly in memory of the ancient temple lamps.
We look with wonder at the human spirit as it
strives for freedom.
On this first Sunday of Advent let us take a few
moments to meditate on these three great sources of wonder and
hope: the rhythms of the universe; the births of our children;
the grandeur of the human spirit. Advent is the time when we dare
to hope.
MEDITATION
ON MONEY
How much time do you spend thinking about
money? Where will your next money come from? How will you
spend that money? What is more important to you than money?
What is money?
Money is completely worthless; yet it is universally
treasured. Love of money is said to be the root of all evil; yet
the pursuit of money is our one common purpose. Money is
completely impersonal; yet it makes possible our own personhood.
Money enslaves us; yet it sets us free.
Money is no measure of real worth; yet it is our
only common standard of value. Money is morally neutral; yet it
contaminates and corrupts. Money is given and received; yet it is
never a gift. Money is unreal; yet it defines reality.
Money is a power that possesses us; yet we can possess its power.
Money is a deity to be respected.
PSYCHOLOGICAL TRUTH IN
ONE MINUTE
Psychological Truth often appears to be
illogical and irrational. I may feel miserably unhappy; you may
look at my life situation and say that objectively, rationally, I have
good friends, a pleasant family, money, everything that should make one
happy. But my psychological truth is that I am miserable.
It doesn't help much that you may say I'm irrational. Why is
there such a gap between your objective observations and my
feelings? Because psychological truth is made up of many unseen
variables. Besides a person's present life situations and its
complexities, there may be physiological difficulties, or there
may have been past experiences which are still affecting present
behavior and attitudes. What makes my behavior and attitudes seem
irrational is that you and I both may be completely unaware of these
unseen variables. Yet they are very real, and constitute my
psychological truth.
Coping with such unseen and unfelt variables
involves becoming aware of them. The paradox or the religious
aspect of psychological truth is that in order to understand
another person's seemingly irrational behavior, you must first become
aware of your own history and your own body. It can be scary to
find out that you don't like the person you have become because that's
you, the only self you know. If you give up that self, maybe you
won't have any self at all. But right at this terrifying point is
the realization that it may be possible to become a new and different
self. So you begin to do battle with your personal demons — in my
case clumsiness, shyness, and an overwhelming sense of
inadequacy. Understanding how we got to be who we are is the
first step, looking back into our personal histories.
But giving up that old self is the hardest
part. Most of us have to struggle a long time. We cling to
the old feelings and the old ways of behaving. I believe that we
find the courage to try new ways when there is an enabling relationship
with another person. Within the context of such a relationship we
can face and understand and forgive our own irrationalities, and we can
risk losing that old self in order to find a new identity.
Then when we look around at the behavior of others the words of the
popular religious song become very true: "Take a look at yourself and
you can look at others differently." Differently meaning with
more compassion and understanding of the many unseen variables that
make up psychological truth.
