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Help us to be the always hopeful gardeners of the spirit who know that without darkness nothing comes to birth as without light nothing flowers.

                                                                                                May Sarton

The Buddhist tradition teaches that it is important to cultivate lovingkindness.  To do this, we change how we treat people, animals, and all things.  We direct love and compassion their way.  This means handling objects gently, avoiding loud speech, and refraining from roughness of all kinds.  Our spirit is in our hands.

“The practice of touching things deeply on the horizontal level gives us the capacity to touch God….We can touch the nomenal world by touching the phenomenal world deeply.”  Thich Nhat Hanh

Jon M. Sweeney   Praying with Our Hands

How easily we can forget how precious life is! 

So long as we can remember, we’ve just been here, being alive.

Unlike other things for which we have a comparison—black to white, day to night, good to bad—we are so immersed in life that we can see it only in the context of itself. We don’t see life as compared to anything, to not-being, for example, to never having been born. Life just is.

But life itself is a gift. It’s a compliment just being born: to feel, breathe, think, play, dance, sing, work, make love, for this particular lifetime.

Today let’s give thanks for life. For life itself! For simply being born!

                                                            Daphne Rose Kingma

A hundred thousand elephants,
A hundred thousand horses,
A hundred thousand mule-drawn chariots,
Are not worth a single step forward.

How can we live a truly grateful life?  When we look back at all that has happened to us, we easily divide our lives into good things to be grateful for and bad things to forget.  But with a past thus divided, we cannot move freely into the future.  With many things to forget we can only limp toward a future.

True spiritual gratitude embraces all of our past, the good as well as the bad events, the joyful as well as the sorrowful moments.  From the place where we stand, everything that took place brought us to this place, and we want to remember all of it as part of God’s guidance.  That does not mean that all that happened in the past was good, but it does mean that even the bad didn’t happen outside the loving presence of God.

Don’t surrender your loneliness
So quickly.
Let it cut more deep.

Let it ferment and season you
As few human
Or even divine ingredients can.

Something missing in my heart tonight
Has made my eyes so soft,
My voice
So tender,

My need of God
Absolutely
Clear

                        Hafiz

Humility is what gives us the vision to look upon our world with fresh eyes.  Humility enables us to respect others enough to put down our spurious images of ourselves and open our arms, as individuals and as a nation.  An awareness of limitations and a consciousness of the glory and goodness of God in others can make us while.  A consciousness of the brokenness of others that comes out of the consciousness of our own unrehabilitated selves can make us tender, make us holy…..If we really want to stop the violence in this country, we must start admiring others more for the goodness we see in them.  We must admire ourselves less, perhaps, in view of the struggle that we know is even now at war in us.  Even now it threatens to take our real measure.  The day we admit that, humility comes and caning ends.  Violence ends.  Oppression ends.  Everywhere.  Because first it ended in us.

The more compassionate you are, the more generous you can be.  The more generous you are, the more loving-friendliness you cultivate to help the world.

                                                Thich Nhat Hanh  from Buddhist Peacework

How Should I Pray

How should I pray?  Teach the art of prayer to me, that I may devote myself to you.  Should I meditate upon the wonders of your creation?  Should I give thanks for the wisdom of my elders?  Should I praise you for your many gifts to me?  Should I reflect on all the things I have done wrong?  Or should I simply wait until you speak to me?  Tell me truly: how should I pray?

I Worship You

I worship you in every religion that teaches your laws and praises your glory.  I worship you in every plant whose beauty reflects your beauty.  I worship you in every event which is caused by your goodness and kindness.  I worship you in every place where you dwell.  And I worship you in every man and woman who seeks to follow your way of righteousness.

                                                Zoroaster, 6^th c. BCE

Elegy

Listen, my friend, shuttered in
your small room, winter is gone.
I tell you spring now wakens
furred buds on the boughs of pussy
willows, at the field’s edge a lark
nests among weed stalks harsh with
the wind’s whistle.  Maples unfold
new leaves, oaks wait for the warm
May sun, violets rise from the curled
clusters and wild plums cover thorns
with white blossoms, even watercress
shows color at the spring’s mouth.
You have seen blocks of geese print
their flight on the wide innocent sky
over Iowa , and bundled farmers on bright
red tractors smooth the fields for sowing. 
Listen, you can hear the cock pheasant’s
cry while April rain sends up shooting
stars and jack-in-the-pulpits.  Fill your
mind’s eye with the hill beyond the big
barn where she last watched an autumn sunset.

                        James Hearst   (Thanks to Susan Hansen for introducing me to him.)

I am the one whose praise echoes on high.
I adorn all the earth.
I am the breeze that nurtures all things green.
I encourage blossoms to flourish with ripening fruits.
I am led by the spirit to feed the purest streams.
I am the rain coming from the dew
that causes the grasses to laugh with the joy of life.
I am the yearning for good.

It Was Like This

It was neither the Herod in me
nor the Pilate that spoke, it was
the mob’s mocking voice, no wonder
you cried out as if a spear tipped
with anger touched love’s flesh
this autumn day.  How dare I call
for the judgment?  After three weary
days (who breaks faith lives with
guilt), the bright spirit hid in the
crypt, you mourned as Martha but as
the angel rolled the stone away and
love rose up in time for me to ask
forgiveness.

My heart is moved by all I cannot save:
So much has been destroyed
I have to cast my lot with those who, age after age, perversely,
with no extraordinary power reconstitute the world.

The Holy Water

No one lives outside the walls of this sacred place, existence.

The holy water, I need it upon my eyes: it is you, dear, you—each form.

What mother would lose her infant—and we are that to God, never lost from His gaze are we?  Every cry of the heart is attended by light’s own arms.

You cannot wander anywhere that will not aid you.

Anything you can touch—God brought it into the classroom of your mind.

Differences exist, but not in the city of love.

Thus my vows and yours, I know they are the same.

I have just peeled the skin from the potato and you are still contemplating its worth, sweetheart; indeed there are wonderful nutrients in all, for God made everything.

You joined our community at birth. With your Father being who He is, what do the world’s scales know of your precious value. The priest and the prostitute—they weigh the same before the Son’s immaculate being, but who can bear that truth and freedom, so a wise man adulterated the scriptures; every wise man knows this.

My soul’s face has revealed its beauty to me; why was it shy so long, didn’t it know how this made me suffer and weep?

A different game He plays with His close ones. God tells us truths you would not believe, for most everyone needs to limit His compassion; concepts of right and wrong preserve the golden seed until one of God’s friends come along and tend your body like a divine bride.

The Holy sent out a surveyor to find the limits of its compassion and being. God knows a divine frustration whenever He acts like that, for the infinite has no walls.

Why not tease Him about this?  Why not accept the freedom of what it means for our Lord to see us as Himself.

So magnificently sovereign is our Lover; never say, “On the other wide of this river a different king rules.”  For how could that be true—for nothing can oppose Infinite strength.

No one lives outside the walls of this sacred place, existence.

The holy water my soul’s brow needs is unity. Love opened my eye and I was cleansed by the purity of each form.

We confuse attachment with love. Attachment is concerned with my needs, my happiness, while love is an unselfish attitude, concerned with the needs and happiness of others. Most of the time our love is mixed with attachment because we do not feel adequate or secure on our own, and try to find wholeness through another. We become dependent on the good feelings and comfort of the relationship and then suffer when it changes. A relationship free of unrealistic grasping is free of disappointment, conflict, jealousy, and other problems, and is fertile ground for the growth of love and wisdom.

Imperfect Servant
            (for those who want to change the world…)

Give up perfection for just one day.
Feel yourself a creature of flesh and bone,
walk around in the cold, wind chafing
your face, joints jarring as your warn
soles pound concrete.

Keep walking till you face
your deepest failure—not
with clenched fists, not blinded

by shame, but with a detached
curiosity that opens to
compassion. Finger

the glazed wound tenderly
as you would caress the gash
in Christ’s side.  Wear it lightly
as God’s fingerprints.  You see
one doesn’t have to travel far

to know suffering, though you
may carry it to the ends of the desert
before you discover it’s yours.
Before you discover the light
failure lets into the darkness

of the private soul.  Polished
by forgiveness, our failures
are the only possible windows
through which to truly see
another human being.

All else is mirrors
and an endless craving
for reflection of our own worthiness.
Remember Christ was wounded
so he could be like you.

            Ann Hostetler

Here we are, God—a planet at prayer. Attune our spirits that we may hear your harmonies and bow before your creative power that we may face our violent discords and join with your Energy to make heard in every heart your hymn of peace.

Here we are, God—a militarized planet. Transform our fears that we may transform our war fields into wheatfields, arms into handshakes, missles into messengers of peace.

Here we are, God—a polluted planet. Purify our vision that we may perceive ways to purify our beloved lands, cleanse our precious waters, de-smog our life-giving air.

Here we are, God—an exploited planet. Heal our heart, that we may respect our resources, hold priceless our people and provide for our starving children an abundance of daily bread.

            Joan Metzner

Hey! Lean to hear my feeble voice.
            At the center of the sacred hoop
            You have said that I should make the tree to bloom
With tears running, O Great Spirit, my Grandfather,
            With running eyes I must say
            The tree has never bloomed
Here I stand, and the tree is withered.
            Again, I recall the great vision you gave me.
It may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives.
            Nourish it then
            That it may leaf
            And bloom
            And fill with singing birds!
Hear me, that the people may once again
            Find the good road
            And the shielding tree.

            Black Elk

He Told Me A Joke

My Lord told me a joke.
And seeing Him laugh has done more for me
            than any scripture I will
                        ever read.

“In vain our labors are, whatso’er they be,
Unless God gives the Benedicte” — Robert Herrick

The spiritual life is a call to action. But it is a call to selfless action, that is action without any selfish attachment to the results. It is not action or effort that we must surrender; it is self-will, and this is terribly difficult. You must do your best constantly, yet never allow yourself to become involved in whether things work out the way you want.

It takes many years of practice to learn this skill, but once you have it, you will never lose your nerve. The sense of inadequacy goes. You are able to assess your capacities with detachment. You choose a worthwhile goal; then you can throw yourself into self-less action without conflict or diffidence or fatigue. When we learn simply to do our best and leave the question of success or failure to the Lord, the results can really be spectacular.

            Eknath Easwaren

Wild air, world-mothering air,
Nestling me everywhere,
That each eyelash or hair
Girdles, goes home betwixt
The fleeciest, frailest-fixed
Snowflake, that’s fairly mixed
With riddles, and its rife
In every least thing’s life,
This needful, never spent,
And nursing element,
My more than meat and drink,
My meal at every wink,
This air, which, by life’s law,
My lung must draw and draw
Nor but to breathe its praise.

            Gerard Manley Hopkins

The Christ’s Breath

                     I am
           a hole in a flute
 that the Christ’s breath moves through,
              listen to this
                   music.

Hafiz  1320-1389

Lousy at Math

Once a group of thieves stole a rare diamond larger than two goose eggs.

Its value could have easily bought three thousand horses and three thousand acres in the most fertile land in Shiraz .

The thieves got drunk that night to celebrate their great haul, but during the course of the evening the effects of the liquor, and their mistrust of each other grew to such an extent

they decided to divide the stone into pieces.
Of course then the Priceless became lost.

Most everyone is lousy at math and does that to God---dissects the Indivisible One,

by thinking, by saying, “This is my Beloved, he looks like this and acts like that, how could that moron over there really be God?”

            Hafiz

If God invited you to a party

If God invited you to a party and said,
“Everyone in the ballroom tonight will be my special guest.”
How would you then treat them when you arrived?
Indeed, indeed!
And Hafiz knows that there is no one in this world who is not standing upon
His jeweled dance floor.

            Hafiz

                                          How
                                     did the rose
                               ever open its heart
                and give to this world all of its beauty?
         It felt the encouragement of light against its being,
                      otherwise we all remain too
                                    frightened.

            Hafiz

TWO GIANT FAT PEOPLE

                             God
                   and I have become
             like two giant fat people living
                          in a tiny
                           boat. 

                            We
                keep bumping into
                     each other
                         and
                      laughing. 

            Hafiz

                       WITH THAT MOON LANGUAGE

                                    Admit something:

                 Everyone you see, you say to them, “Love me.”

     Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone
                              would call the cops.

    Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect.
            Why not become the one who lives with a
                       full moon in each eye that is
                               always saying,

                        with that sweet moon language,
                            what every other eye in
                                 this world is
                                  dying to
                                    hear?

                                                Hafiz

Not with my hands
But with my heart I bless you.
May peace forever dwell
Within your breast!

May Truth’s white light
Move with you and possess you---
And may your thoughts and words
Wear her bright crest!

May Time move down
Its endless path of beauty
Conscious of you
And better for your being!

Spring after Spring
Array itself in splendor
Seeking the favor
Of your sentient seeing!

May hills lean toward you,
Hills and windswept mountains,
And trees be happy
That have seen you pass---

Your eyes dark kinsmen
To the stars above you----
Your feet remembered
By the blades of grass…!

JUST SIT THERE RIGHT NOW

Just
sit there right now.
Don’t do a thing. Just rest.

For your
separation from God
is the hardest work in this world.

Let me bring you trays of food and something
that you like to
drink.

You can use my soft words
as a cushion
for your
head.

Hafiz

EACH SOUL COMPLETES ME

My Beloved said,
“My name is not complete without yours.”

I thought:
How could a human’s worth ever be such?

And God knowing all our thoughts—and all our
thoughts are innocent steps on the path—
then addressed my heart,

God revealed a sublime truth to the world,
when He sang,

“I am made whole by your life. Each soul,
each soul, completes me.”

Hafiz

Glory be to God for dappled things—
            For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow,
                        For rose-moles, all in stipple upon trout that swim,
Fresh-firecoal chestnut falls, finches’ wings,
            Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough,
                        And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
            Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
                        With swift, slow, sweet sour; adazzle, dim,
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
                        Praise him.

            Gerard Manley Hopkins

If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in the moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people.

             Thich Nhat Hanh

Just to be is a blessing. Just to live is holy.

            Rabbi Abraham Heschel

Pollen

            One morning, here at my place, after a rain, when the pines were washed, I stepped outside and it smelled of the trees. The entire ground was gold with their pollen, looking as if it was the gold the Spanish imagined. I thought, yes, there is life all around. It is not so far away. It is close to us. It dwells in a moment of silence. When air touches skin, or you smell the fresh earth after a rain, then there is a moment of healing, of grace drawn to a point, a radiant, and a radiance.

            Nowadays, it seems we are always trying to match the world to ourselves instead of ourselves to it, the way it truly is. Yet human smallness is only too apparent. In such great universes as ours, we should try to match ourselves to the outside world, the faith healer called river, or a clay woman, broken, who watches over the earth. There are those who journey to retrieve the souls of the ill, to restore the breath of the world, the great store of cloud forest, the medicines in mountains, and the blue eye of the sea that closes or opens. This, the range of a world.

            When people come home after work, when the doors are locked, or the hay placed before the horses, or the deer draw near, or the cattle rest in the fields, and the plants gain an unwitnessed inch of growing, the stalagmites lengthen, the crystals of earth sharpen in dark unseen caves, where those who live in the ocean come up for air, or when those who live in air immerse themselves in water, would it be love we feel?  When our beliefs settle down to sleep and the streetlights come on, if we said matter was holy, would we then love and be joyous?

            Linda Hogan in The Woman Who Watches Over the World: A Native Memoir
---a highly recommended book

The more faithfully you listen to the voice within you, the better you will hear what is sounding outside. And only she who listens can speak.

            Dag Hammarskjold

A Prayer for All Children, the day after Mother’s Day

We pray/accept responsibility for children
who sneak Popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.

And we pray/accept responsibility for those
who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can’t bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never “counted potatoes,”
who were born in places we wouldn’t be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an X-rated world.

We pray/accept responsibility for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.

And we pray/accept responsibility for those
who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can’t find any bread to steal,
who don’t have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,
and whose monsters are real.

We pray/accept responsibility for children
who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don’t like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.

And we pray/accept responsibility for those
whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren’t spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.

And we pray/accept responsibility for children
who want to be carried and for those who must,
for those we never give up on and for those who don’t get a second chance,
for those we smother and for those who will grab
the hand of anyone kind enough to offer it.

Adapted by Marion Wright Edelman, written by Ina J. Hughes

We See a Gardener

Risen Lord,
so often encountered,
so seldom recognized,
    you meet us in the gardens of our hearts,
    on the lonely roads of our lives,
    our empty beaches, and greet us.
But in our blindness,
we mistake you for someone else.
Through our tears, we see a gardener;
in our weariness and wariness, a stranger.
But you call us back to ourselves.
Forgive us our hard-heartedness,
our lack of understanding.
Open our eyes and our ears to you,
    wherever you are found,
and give us grace to love you with abandon,
    to throw ourselves into your service,
    as Mary threw herself at your feet,
    as Peter threw himself into the sea.Amen.

            Ms. Jennifer Heckart

Holder of My Fears

Blessed be thou, Jesus Christ,
    holder of my fears.

They tremble like small birds in your hands,
    desperately struggling to get free.

Am I losing my sight?  Will my child be safe?
Can I do my job?  Will I be loved?
Am I good enough? There’s no time!

You hold each securely in warm, strong hands.
You stroke them tenderly until they relax.
They fall asleep in the nest of your embrace.

And when all my fears are calmed,
you hold only me.
Beloved be thou, Jesus Christ.
Beloved!

Carol K. Everson

FREEDOM

Freedom will not come
Today, this year
Nor ever
Through compromise and fear….
Freedom
Is a strong seed
 planted
in a great need.
I live here too;
I want freedom
Just as you.

Langston Hughes

Take special care to guard your
tongue before the morning prayer.
Even greeting your fellow, we are told,
can be harmful at that hour.
A person who wakes up in the morning is
like a new creation.
Begin your day with unkind words,
or even trivial matters---
even though you may later turn to prayer,
you have not been true to your Creation.
All of your words each day
are related to one another.
All of them are rooted
in the first words that you speak.

            An Old Hasidic Poem

Hail, Mary

Hail, Mary! hail, Mary!
            Queen of grace, Mother of mercy;
Hail, Mary, in manner surpassing,
            Fount of our health, source of our joy.

To thee we, night and day,
            Erring children of Adam and Eve,
Lift our voice in supplication,
            In groans and grief and tears.

Bestow upon us, thou Root of gladness,
            Since thou art the cup of generous graces,
The faith of John, and Peter, and Paul,
            With the wings of Ariel on the heights of the clouds.

Vouchsafe to us, thou golden branch,
            A mansion in the Realm of peace,
Rest from the perils and stress of waves,
            Beneath the shade of the fruit of thy womb, Jesu.

            The Carmina Gadelica

The Harvest is with Christ

The seed is with Christ
And the harvest is with Christ.
May we be gathered into God’s granary.

The sea is with Christ
And the fish are with Christ.
May we be swept into God’s nets.

From growth to maturity,
And from maturity to death,
May you, O Christ,
Close your arms tightly around us!

From death to finish—oh, it is not finish,
But a new growth.
May we be found dwelling
In the paradise of the graced!

            Traditional Gaelic Prayer compiled by William John Fitzgerald

Every morning, when we wake up, we have twenty-four brand-new hours to live. What a precious gift! We have the capacity to live in a way that these twenty-four hours will bring peace, joy, and happiness to ourselves and others.

Peace is present right here and now, in ourselves and in everything we do and see. The question is whether or not we are in touch with it. We don’t have to travel far away to enjoy the blue sky. We don’t have to leave our city or even our neighborhood to enjoy the eyes of a beautiful child. Even the air we breathe can be a source of joy.

We can smile, breathe, walk, and eat our meals in a way that allows us to be in touch with the abundance of happiness that is available. We are very good at preparing to live, but not very good at living. We know how to sacrifice ten years for a diploma, and we are willing to work very hard to get a job, a car, a house, and so on. But we have difficulty remembering that we are alive in the present moment, the only moment there is for us to be alive. Every breath we take, every step we make, can be filled with peace, joy, and serenity. We need only to be awake, alive in the present moment.

            Thich Nhat Hanh

            We have a room for everything—eating, sleeping, watching TV—but we have no room for mindfulness. I recommend that we set up a small room in our homes and call it a “breathing room” where we can be alone and practice just breathing and smiling, at least in difficult moments. That little room should be regarded as an Embassy of the Kingdom of Peace. It should be respected, and not violated by anger, shouting, or things like that. When a child is about to be shouted at, she can take refuge in that room. Neither the father nor the mother can shout at her anymore. She is safe within the grounds of the Embassy. Parents sometimes will need to take refuge in that room, also, to sit down, breathe, smile, and restore themselves. Therefore, that room is for the benefit of the whole family.

            Thich Nhat Hanh

Please Call Me By My True Names

Do not say that I’ll depart tomorrow because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile, learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower; to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence, feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat, who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his “debt of blood” to my people, dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all walks of life.
My pain is like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so that I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.

Thich Nhat Hanh

I HAVE COME INTO THIS WORLD TO SEE THIS

I have come into this world to see this:
the sword drop from men’s hands even at the height
of their arc of anger
because we have finally realized there is just one flesh to wound
and it is His—the Christ’s our Beloved’s.

I have come into this world to see this: all creatures hold hands as
we pass through this miraculous existence we share on the way
to even a greater being of soul,
a being of just ecstatic light, forever entwined and at play with Him.

I have come into this world to hear this:
every song the earth has song since it was conceived in
the Divine’s womb and began spinning from His wish,

every song by wing and fin and hoof,
every song by hill and field and tree and woman and child,
every song of stream and rock,

every song of tool and lyre and flute,
every song of gold and emerald and fire,
every song the heart should cry with magnificent dignity to know itself as God;

For all other knowledge will leave us again in want and aching—
only imbibing the glorious Sun will complete us.

I have come into the world to experience this:
            men so true to love
they would rather die before speaking an unkind word,

men so true their lives are His covenant—the promise of hope.

I have come into this world to see this:
the sword drop from men’s hands even at the height of their arc of rage

because we have finally realized there is just one flesh

we can wound.

            Hafiz

Mother’s Day Proclamation

Arise, then, women of this day! Arise all women who have hearts, whether our baptism be that of water or of fears!

Say firmly: “We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.

We women of one country will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says, “Disarm, Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.”

Blood does not wipe our dishonor nor violence indicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.

Let them then solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after their own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.

In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.

…you never win any frontal attack on the mystery of evil. You only become a mirror image of it, but better disguised. Jesus calls that trying to drive out the devil by the prince of devils (see Luke 11:14-22.)

So instead Francis of Assisi went out to the edge and did it better. If you attack something directly, you let it determine the energy, the style, the opposition. You soon become the same thing, but in a disguised and denied form. That’s how evil expands so successfully. The disguise is almost perfect, and without spiritual discernment, will fool the best of us. So Francis respects the monuments [institutional Christianity], even loves them, but also goes back to the original dynamism and nonviolent style of Jesus the man for his inspiration.

If you have been to Assisi, there are the walls and inside them there are the cathedral and the established churches, all of which are fine. That’s where Francis first heard the gospel and fell in love with Jesus. But then he quietly goes outside the walls and rebuilds some old ruins called San Damiano and the Portiuncula. He’s not with his mouth telling the others they’re doing it wrong, he just gently, lovingly tries to do it better. I think that’s true reconstruction. Remember, the best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better. That might be a perfect motto for all reconstructive work.

A Love Meditation

May I be peaceful, happy, and light in body and spirit.
May he/she be peaceful, happy, and light in body and spirit.
May they be peaceful, happy, and light in body and spirit.

May I be safe and free from injury.
May he/she be safe and free from injury.
May they be safe and free from injury.

May I be free from anger, afflictions, fears, and anxiety.
May he/she be free from anger, afflictions, fears, and anxiety.
May they be free from anger, afflictions, fears, and anxiety.

Quoted by Thich Nhat Hanh I “Teachings on Love”

Harmony

Thank you, God,
for quiet time beside the water,
listening to the murmur
of ever flowing
ebb and tide,
the leaping forward,
the pulling back,
eternally harmonious.

I, too,
must learn to flow,
allow myself to fall
and be immersed
in deep waters,
that I may know
the joy of rising up
and being thrust,
trusting,
to new and distant edges.

            Edwina Gately

Anger is a hazard that affects everyone, including ourselves. When we are overcome by anger, our peace and happiness vanish. Some people’s lives are consumed by anger. They become furious when someone just bumps into them. Is this because of the circumstances or because of the seeds of anger in them?  Look deeply at the seeds of anger in yourself; look deeply at those you think have brought you harm. Love meditation helps us understand both, and it helps us let go of our habitual patterns of thought and action that create more suffering. We see that the person who has harmed us is himself suffering very much. Contemplating his suffering generates understanding and love in us, and with these energies, healing is possible. When our heart is opened, our suffering diminishes right away. The practice of love meditation liberates us from our afflictions.

            Thich Nhat Hanh

May I learn to look at myself with the eyes of understanding and love.
May he/she learn to look at him/herself with the eyes of understanding and love.
May they learn to look at themselves with the eyes of understanding and love.

Start with yourself with these six prayers, and then add a particular person and then a group of people as in the above example.

May I be able to recognize and touch the seeds of joy and happiness in myself.

May I learn to identify and see the sources of anger, craving, and delusion in myself.

`````````````

May I know how to nourish the seeds of joy in myself every day.

May I be able to live fresh, solid, and free.

May I be free from attachment and aversion, but not be indifferent.

From Thich Nhat Hanh   Teachings on Love

…meditation aims, first of all, at restoring communication with ourselves.  We are seldom there for ourselves.  We run away from ourselves, because we are afraid to go home and face the fear and suffering in our wounded child who has been ignored for such a long time.  But it is wonderful to return home and say, “Little boy or little girl, I am here for you: Don’t worry.  I will take care of you.”  This is the first step.  You are the deeply wounded child waiting for you to come home.  And you are the one who has run away from home, who has neglected your child.

            Go back and take care of yourself.  You body needs you, your feelings need you, your perceptions need you.  The wounded child in you needs you.  Your suffering, your blocks of pain need you.  Your deepest desire needs you to acknowledge it.  Go home and be there for all these things.  Practice mindful walking and mindful breathing.  Do everything in mindfulness so you can be really there, so you can love.

We can’t afford to love for less than twenty-four hours a day.

A Hundred A Day

“A million species of plants and animals will be extinct by the turn of the century, an average of a hundred a day.”

            Dr. Mustafa Tolba, Director-General of the U.N. Environment Program

Dear 19<sup>th</sup> century!  Give me refuge
in your unconscious sanctuary for a while,
let me lose myself behind sententious bombazine,
rest in the threadbare brown merino of dowerless girls.
Yes, you had your own horrors, your dirt, disease,
profound injustices; yet the illusion of endless time
to reform, if not themselves, then the world,
gave solace even to gloomy minds. Nature, for you,
was to be marvelled at, praised and conquered,
a handsome heiress; any debate concerned
the origin and subsequent behaviour of species,
not their demise. Virtue, in your heyday
(blessed century), fictive but so real!) was confident
of its own powers. Laxly guarded, your Hesperides
was an ordinary orchard, its fruit
apples of simple hope and happiness.
And though the ignorant armies, then as always,
clashed by night, there was
a beckoning future to look to, that bright
Victorian cloud in the eastern sky. The dodo
was pathetic, grotesque in its singular extinction,
its own stupidity surely to blame. It stood alone
on some low hillock of the mind
and was not seen as shocking, nor as omen.

            Denise Levertov

Love with Wings

There is that Love—
the one with wings,
that neither cages
nor clings,
but lets others in.
I know that Love.

Betty Vilas Hedblom in “Women’s Uncommon Prayers”

St. Hilda, Abbess of Whitby, 680

            GLORIOUS TRINITY, we praise you for your daughter, Hilda, abbess, mother to all who knew her and convener of the Synod of Whitby. We note her wide-ranging work as an administrator, educator, and spiritual guide. We remember that five of her monks became bishops (Bosta of York, Aetta of Colchester, Ottfor of Worcester, Wilfred II of York, and John of Beverley). We applaud her missionary role in inspiring the first paraphrases of the Bible into the local Anglo-Saxon dialect, giving her a place of honor as a mother of English letters. We affirm her decisive position in the Synod of Whitby, though it helped strengthen the Roman practice at the expense of Celtic forms of Christianity. This remarkable seventh-century woman exercised both political and spiritual authority over large territories, advised governing bodies, and called up soldiers during times of war. Yet she died encouraging her flock to maintain harmony within the Church. Help us, we pray, during times of conflict in our churches and communities, to be good stewards of the talents and authority you’ve given us as women [and men] made in your image. Give us the spirit to discern how to bring about genuine unity while affirming our diversity. Amen.

December 23 

Rabbi Abraham Heschel, Asked God for and Received Wonder, not Success, in Life, 1972

            HOLY ONE, we bless you for Abraham and his call to link Hasidic mysticism and modern seekers. We praise you for his gift with words and his profound sense of your presence in the world. We also thank you for Abraham’s courageous stands against racism, anti-Semitism, and the Viet Nam War. Grant us the courage to stand up for our convictions and to reflect your divine image as radiantly as he did. In the name of God, the Merciful and the Just. Amen.

            “She Who Prays”

How Everything Adores Being Alive

What
if you were
a beetle,
and a soft wind

and a certain allowance of time
had summoned you
out of your wrappings,
and there you were,

so many legs
hardening,
maybe even
more than one pair of eyes

and the whole world
in front of you?
And what if you had wings
and flew

into the garden,
then fell
into the up-tipped
face

of a white flower,
and what if you had
a sort of mouth,
a lip

to place close
to the skim
of honey
that kept offering itself—

what would you think then
of the world
as, night and day,
you were kept there—

oh happy prisoner—
sighing, humming,
roaming
that deep curl?

Mary Oliver

            The religion of Jesus is not built around death.  It is not about sin and how to balance it with suffering.  It is not about judgment and punishment—or even about obedience and reward.  It is precisely against all such dark and fear-provoking “measuring” ideas.  It is about God’s unconditional love and endless creativity.  It is about the unlimited potential for goodness in people, for godliness in the world, for beauty in the earth and in human souls.  It is about the “kingdom,” malchut, the union of God with people for unlimited creativity.

Let there be peace, welfare and righteousness in every part of the world.

Let confidence and friendship prevail
for the good of east and west
for the good of the needy south
for the good of all humanity.

Let the people inspire their leaders
helping them to seek peace by peaceful means
helping them and urging them
to build a better world
a world with a home for everybody
a world with food and work for everybody
a world with spiritual freedom
for everybody.

Let those who have the power of money be motivated by selfless compassion.
Let money become a tool for the good of humankind.
Let those who have power deal respectfully with the resources of the planet.
Let them respect and maintain the purity of the air, water, land and subsoil.
Let them co-operate to restore the ecological soundness of Mother Earth.

Let trees grow up by the billions around the world.
Let green life invade the deserts.

Let industry serve humanity and produce waste that serves nature.

Let technology respect the holiness of Mother Earth.

Let those who control the mass media
contribute to create mutual understanding
contribute to create optimism and confidence.

Let ordinary people meet by the millions across the borders.
Let them create a universal network of love and friendship.

Let billions of human beings
co-operate to create a good future
for their children and grandchildren.

Let us survive
In peace and harmony with Mother Earth.

            Hagen Hasselbalch in “Prayers for Healing”

We are aware that all generations of our ancestors
and all future generations are present in us.

We are aware of the expectations that our
ancestors, our children, and their children have of us.

We are aware that our joy, peace, freedom, and
harmony are the joy, peace, freedom, and harmony
of our ancestors, our children, and their children.

We are aware that understanding is the very foundation of love.

When I awake in the morning,
It is either the very next day
after many, many days,
Or it is the very first day.
When it is the very next day
after many, many days,
I know the time has come
For me to walk through the door,
To take a look at that dark part of me
that is calling.
And to touch that place of willingness
to look again.
For I know the time has come
For me to walk through the door
To take a look at this critic within,
Who only wants me to listen
To what needs to be heard,
So I then can heal
and bring that part of me
back to me.
When I awake in the morning,
It is either the very next day
after many, many days,
Or it is the very firs day.
Today, it is the very first day
Of what exists now.

            Twainhart Hill, “An Ode to My Father Healing the Critic” from “Prayers for Healing”

May my body
Be a prayerstick
For the world.

            Joan Halifax from “Prayers for Healing”

I salute you, Glorious Virgin, star more brilliant than the sun, redder than the freshest rose, whiter than any lily, higher in heaven than any of the saints.  The whole earth reveres you, accept my praise and come to my aid.  In the midst of your so glorious days in heaven, do not forget the miseries of this earth; turn your gaze of kindness on all those who suffer and struggle and whose lips are soaked in the bitterness of this life.  Have pity on those who loved each other and were turn apart.  Have pity on the loneliness of the heart, on the feebleness of our faith, on the objects of our tenderness.  Have pity on those who weep, on those who pray, on those who tremble.  Give everyone hopefulness and peace.

Ancient prayer of protection translated by Andrew Harvey from “Prayers for Healing”

Holy Spirit,
giving life to all life,
moving all creatures,
root of all things,
washing them clean,
wiping out their mistakes,
healing their wounds,
you are our true life,
luminous, wonderful,
awakening the heart
from its ancient sleep.

            Hildegard of Bingen from “Prayers for Healing”

My Dead Friends

I have begun,
when I’m weary and can’t decide an answer
to a bewildering question
to ask my dead friends for their opinion
and the answer is often immediate and clear.

Should I take the job?  Move to the city?
Should I try to conceive a child in my middle age?

They stand in unison
shaking their heads and smiling—
whatever leads to joy,
they always answer.

to more life and less worry.
I look into the vase where Billy’s ashes were—
it’s green in there, a green vase,

and I ask Billy
if I should return the difficult phone call,
and he says, yes.
Billy’s already gone through the frightening door. 

whatever he says I’ll do.
            Marie Howe

It is I who must begin…

Once I begin, once I try—
here and now,
right where I am,
not excusing myself 
by saying things
would be easier elsewhere,
without grand speeches and
ostentatious gestures,
but all the more persistently—
to live in harmony
with the “voice of Being,” as I
understand it within myself
—as soon as I begin that,
I suddenly discover,
to my surprise, that
I am neither the only one,
nor the first,
nor the most important one
to have set out upon that road…

Whether all is really lost
or not depends entirely on
whether or not I am lost…

            Vaclav Havel in “Life Prayers”

We are all on a journey together…
To the center of the universe…
Look deep
Into yourself, into another.
It is to a center which is everywhere
That is the holy journey…
First you need only look;
Notice and honor the radiance of
Everything about you…
Play in this universe.  Tend
All these shining things around you;
The smallest plant, the creatures and
objects in your care.
Be gentle and nurture.  Listen…
As we experience and accept
All that we really are…
We grow in care.
We begin to embrace others
As ourselves, and learn to live
As one among many…

            Anne Hillman from “Life Prayers”

Creator of the Universe
preserve us from our own presumption.
Do not let us close ourselves into ourselves
but open us continually into you.

Let us be more in love with You
than with our notions of You.
Let us stop claiming to know everything
so that we may understand something.

Increase in us kindness.
Make us people who care
and who take care,
who venerate the truth
and recognize each other.

Draw us with an irresistible beauty!

Rabia Terri Harris, Coordinator, Muslim Peace Fellowship, New York from “Prayers for a Thousand Years”

I believe that my deepest, truest desires are actually the Creator’s desires for me.  As a Christian, I have been walking with Jesus for nearly thirty years now, and if the “right desires” haven’t formed in me by now, I’ll just not worry about it anymore.  Unless you are actually motivated by hateful goals, your true desires are taking you along a continuum that leads to a wiser, truer you.  Your deep desires are located in that well that is your very soul, and God created our souls to constantly move us toward health and wisdom and peace.  With your soul’s mysteries is hidden the vision of what you are becoming.  Trust your soul to help you get there.

            As a creative person you will burst into bloom when you create out of your desires.  When you create from your passion, your words and images and sounds will become more than what they are.  Your desires are buzzing with energy, with vivid detail, with visions that are beyond you.  Give those desires their heads.

            Vinita Hampton Wright from “The Soul Tells a Story”