T

I called through your door,
“The mystics are gathering
in the street.  Come out!”

“Leave me alone.
I’m sick.”

“I don’t care if you’re dead!”
Jesus is here and he wants
to resurrect somebody!”

Rumi

The wine God loves is human honesty.

                        Rumi

Mary and Elizabeth

Mary and Elizabeth two strong women
whose wombs carried two strong men.

Mary and Elizabeth two hospitable women
with wombs wide, full of grace and conversion.

Mary and Elizabeth, two generous women,
nurturing nests, embracing seedling life
in their bodies’ secret homes.

Mary and Elizabeth, did they know the dance
within their wombs might change a hearting heart,
transform a languished life?

Mary and Elizabeth, two holy women
wombs gestating goodness, sources of nurturing grace
yeast for every inner birthing.

                                                            Joyce Rupp from Out of the Ordinary

Resting

Lord,
Teach me to rest in you.
Teach me to see the sky
and to think of nothing else
but the joy of it.
Teach me to look
at field and flower
and be soothed
by colours and seasons.
Teach me to close my eyes
and to rest
in the Love that has supported me
all my days.
Teach me, Lord,
to rest in you.

                                    Frank Topping

O Word made flesh, you came to dwell among us long ago.  No matter how dull and lifeless, or how happy and fulfilling our lives may be, there is always a need for a deeper awareness of your hopeful presence.  There are signs of your coming, signs of your continued presence, everywhere in our lives.  Freshen up our vision so that we can recognize your dwelling within us and among us as we move hurriedly in this busy season of the year.  May our lives be filled with love for all those who come our way.

                                                                                                Amen.

                                    Joyce Rupp in Out of the Ordinary

Dancing God

Dancing God
passionate leap
of creative energy
skipping among the stars
waltzing on rivers
birthing a universe

Dancing God
tumbling from somewhere
into Jewish territory
whirling Spirit
seeding Mary’s womb
with alluring divinity

Dancing God
uncontainable grandeur
kicking and rolling
in Mary’s flesh
while untamed cousin
echoes the dance
in aunt Elizabeth

Dancing God
spark of angel’s song
shepherds hurrying
like whirling dervishes
gasping in awe
at a surprising child

Dancing God
still passionate today
dynamic movement of love
wooing our hearts
toward oneness and peace
in a tear-stained world

Dance on, Passionate God,
we are your dance now
teach us the tune
show us the steps
it is Christmas
it is time to dance

                                    Joyce Rupp in Out of the Ordinary

A Christmas Blessing

May the hope of this sacred season settle in your soul. May it be a foundation of courage for you when times of distress occupy your inner land….

May you daily open the gift of your life and be grateful for the hidden treasures it contains…..

May you go often to the Bethlehem of your heart and visit the One who offers you peace. May you bring this peace into our world.

                                    Joyce Rupp from Out of the Ordinary

Mother of God, you cared for and nurtured the divine life within you.
--may I daily do the same through faithfulness to prayer and virtuous action.

Mother of God, you experienced the pain of contractions as you birthed the Holy One,
--may I have the courage to bear the pains of my inner growth.

Mother of God, you felt the child within you stirring and kicking,
--may I deepen my awareness of God’s stirrings in the midst of my life.

Mother of God, when the divine child pushed forth from your womb he uttered his first cry,
--may I believe in the goodness within me that is yet to resound.

Mother of God, the newly born child in your arms engendered awe, mystery and wonder,
--may I, too, reverence and be awed by the way that the Divine One enters my life.

                                    Joyce Rupp  from Out of the Ordinary

Faithful Companion,
in this new year I pray:

to live deeply, with purpose,
to live freely, with detachment,
to live wisely, with humility, to live justly, with compassion,
to live lovingly, with fidelity,
to live mindfully, with awareness,
to live gratefully, with generosity,
to live fully, with enthusiasm.

Help me to hold this vision
and to daily renew it in my heart,
becoming ever more one with you,
my truest Self.

                                                Joyce Rupp from Out of the Ordinary

Every prophet sought out companions.
A wall standing alone is useless,
but put three or four walls together,
and they’ll support a roof and keep
the grain dry and safe.

When ink joins with a pen, then the blank paper
can say something.  Rushes and reeds must be woven
to be useful as a mat.  If they weren’t interlaced,
the wind would blow them away.

Like that, God paired up
creatures and gave them friendship.

                                    Rumi  from “On Being Woven”

Which is worth more, a crowd of thousands,
or your own genuine solitude?
Freedom, or power over an entire nation?

A little while alone in your room
will prove more valuable than anything else
that could ever be given you.

The Worm’s Waking

This is how a human being can change:

There’s a worm addicted to eating
grape leaves.

            Suddenly, he wakes up,
call it grace, whatever, something
wakes him, and he’s no longer
a worm.

            He’s the entire vineyard,
and the orchard too, the fruit, the trunks,
a growing wisdom and joy
that doesn’t need
to devour.

So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you:  Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.  Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him.  Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking.  Instead, fix your attention on God.  You’ll be changed from the inside out.  Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it.  Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you. 

I’m speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you.  Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it’s important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God.  No, God brings it all to you.  The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him.

In the slaughterhouse of love, they kill
only the best, none of the weak or deformed. 
Don’t run away from this dying.
Whoever’s not killed for love is dead meat.

                                    Rumi

I am so small I can barely be seen.
How can this great love be inside me?

Look at your eyes. They are small,
but they see enormous things.  

            Rumi

Whenever you hear that someone else has been successful, rejoice.  Always practice rejoicing for others—whether your friend or your enemy.  If you cannot practice rejoicing, no matter how long you live, you will not be happy.

                                    Lama Zopa Rinpoche from Transforming Problems into Happiness

Perhaps real wisdom lies in not seeking answers at all.  Any answer we find will not be true for long.  An answer is a place where we can fall asleep as life moves past us to its next question…The secret of living well is not in having all the answers, but in pursing unanswerable questions in good company.

                        Rachel Naomi Remen   in My Grandfather’s Blessings

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 Sky Gave me its Heart

The sky gave me its heart
because it knew mine was not large enough to care
for the earth the way it did.

Why is it we think of God so much? 
Why is there so much talk about love?

When an animal is wounded
no one has to tell it, “You need to heal”; so naturally it will nurse
itself the best it can.

My eye kept telling me, “Something is missing
from all I see.”  So it went in search of the cure.

The cure for me was His Beauty, the remedy—
for me was to love.

Rabia, 8^th c. Muslim woman

The Farewell Tear

A feast of friendship
a story of betrayal
a memory of gifts given

you look with such intense love
on each one gathered there,
mist covers your deep brown eyes
as you hold each one in your gaze,
you close your eyes and I see
the farewell tear of friendship
as it follows the curve of your cheek. 

you take the bread,
bless it gently, profoundly, with old words and new.
(do you mean to say it is yourself?)

and then the wine,
again with words old and new.
(do you mean to say this, too,
is now yourself?)

you look again at each one there
and give the eternal gift:
“remember me and do the same.” 
like those around the table then,
so with us who gather now,
if we knew how close our hearts
are held inside of yours,
we would always be amazed
that you meant this for us, too.

how shall we ever be brave enough
to do what you have done,
when grief engulfs our every breath
and each memorial word
is laden with our loss?

Awaken Me

Risen One,
come, meet me
in the garden of my life.

 
Lure me into elation.
Revive my silent hope.
Coax my dormant dreams.
Raise up my neglected gratitude.
Entice my tired enthusiasm.
Give life to my faltering relationships.
Roll back the stone of my indifference.
Unwrap the deadness in my spiritual life.
Impart heartiness in my work.

Risen One,
send me forth as a disciple of your unwavering love,
a messenger of your unlimited joy.

Resurrected One,
may I become
ever more convinced
that your presence lives on,
and on, and on,
and on.

Awaken me!
Awaken me!

Lord, the air smells good today, straight from the mysteries
within the inner courts of God.
A grace like new clothes thrown
across the garden, free medicine for everybody.
The trees in their prayer, the birds in praise,
The first blue violets kneeling.
Whatever came from being is caught up in being, drunkenly
forgetting the way back.

My Poems Attempt

All
of what
I would want my child to know            
my poems attempt.

We are infants before each other, are we not,
so vulnerable to each other’s words and
movements.

A school I sat in cured me of hurting others.
I have come to see that all are seated at His table, and I
have become His
servant.

Sometimes God is too shy to speak in public
and He pinches me.

That
is my cue—
to fill in the blanks of your
understanding
the best I
can.

Rabia, 8^th c. female Muslim poet

It Acts Like Love

                        It acts like love—music—
It reaches toward the face, touches it, and tries to let you know
            His promise: that all will be okay.

                        It acts like love—music and,
            tells the feet, “You do not have to be so burdened.”

                        My body is covered with wounds
                                    this world made, 
        but I still longed to kiss Him, even when God said,

            “Could you also kiss the hand that caused
                                   each scar,

                        for you will not find me until
                                    you do.”

                        It does that—music—helps us
                                    to forgive.

Rabia, 8^th c. Muslim woman poet

Realizing for ourselves that the power to achieve contentment comes from within requires an understanding of how our thinking process controls our behaviors, and thereby, our results.

When I Returned from Rome

                        A
            bird took flight,
And a flower in a field whistled at me
            as I passed.

 I drank
            from a stream of clear water.
And at night the sky untied her hair and I fell asleep
            clutching a tress
                        of God’s.

When I returned from Rome , all said
            “Tell us the great news,”

and with great excitement I did: “A flower in a field whistled,
              and at night the sky untied her hair and
              I fell asleep clutching a
                         sacred tress…”

St. Francis of Assisi

Let us be united,
Let us speak in harmony,
Let our minds apprehend alike.
Common be our prayer,
Common be the end of our assembly;
Common be our resolution,
Common be our deliberations.
Alike be our feelings;
Unified be our hearts;
Common be our intentions;
Perfect be our unity.

            From the Rig Veda

Rumi, Pay Homage

            If God said,

“Rumi, pay homage to everything
              that has helped you
                     enter my
                       arms,”

there would not be one experience of my life,
            not one thought, not one feeling,
                        not any act, I
                           would not
                               bow
                                 to.          

            Rumi

The Silk Worm

                        I stood before a silk worm one day.
                        And that night my heart said to me,

“I can do things like that, I can spin skies,
I can be woven into love that can bring warmth to people;
                        I can be soft against a crying face,
I can be wings that lift, and I can travel on my thousand feet
throughout the earth,
my sacks filled
with the
sacred.”

                        And I replied to my heart,
            “Dear, can you really do all those things?”

            And it just nodded, “Yes” in silence.

            So we began and will never cease.

            Rumi

The grass beneath a tree is content and silent.
A squirrel holds an acorn in its praying hands, offering thanks, it looks like.
The nut tastes sweet; I bet the prayer spiced it up somehow.
The broken shells fall on the grass, and the grass looks up and says, “Hey.”
And the squirrel looks down and says, “Hey.”
I have been saying “Hey” lately too, to God.
Formalities just weren’t working.

            Rumi

It’s Rigged

It’s rigged—everything, in your favor.
            So there is nothing to worry about.

            Is there some position you want,
some office, some acclaim, some award, some con, some lover,
           maybe two, maybe three, maybe four—all at once,

           maybe a relationship
                with
                God?

I know there is a gold mine in you, when you find it
          the wonderment of the earth’s gifts you will lay
               aside as naturally as does
               a child a                    
               doll.

But, dear, how sweet you look to me kissing the unreal;
comfort, fulfill yourself in any way possible—do that until
        you ache, until you ache
                        then. come to me
                        again.

            Rumi

In bullfighting there is a place in the ring where the bull feels safe. If he can reach this place, he stops running and can gather his full strength. He is no longer afraid…It is the job of the matador to know where this sanctuary lies, to be sure the bull does not have time to occupy his place of wholeness.

This safe place for a bull is called the querencia. For humans the querencia is the safe place in our winner world…When a person finds their querencia, in full view of the matador, they are calm and peaceful. Wise. They have gathered their strength around them.

                        Rachel Naomi Remen

I Guess You Won’t Mind

Great lions can find peace in a cage.
            But we should only do that
                      as a last
                         resort.

So those bars I see that restrain your wings,
            I guess you won’t mind
                    if I pry them
                        open.

Rumi

I sing of the well-founded Earth,
Mother of all, eldest of all beings.
She feeds all creatures that are in the world,
 all that go upon the goodly land,
 all that are in the paths of the seas,
 and all that fly,
 all these are fed of her store.

Through you, O Queen, we are blessed
 in our children, and in our harvest
 and to you we owe our lives.

Happy are we, who you delight to honour!
We have all things abundantly:
 our houses are filled with good things,
 our cities are orderly,
our sons exult with everfresh delight
 and our daughters with flower laden hands
 play and skip merrily over the soft flowers of the field.
Thus it is for those whom you honour,
O holy Goddess, Bountiful spirit!

Hail Earth, mother of the gods,
 freely bestow upon me for this my song
 that cheers the heart!

            Homeris Hymns XXX, Adapted by Elizabeth Roberts

Baptizing Cats

We were very pious children from pious households in a fairly pious town… Once, we baptized a litter of cats… I still remember how those warm little brows felt under the palm of my hand. Everyone has petted a cat, but to touch one like that, with the pure intention of blessing it, is a very different thing. It stays in the mind. For years we would wonder what, from a cosmic viewpoint, we had done to them. It still seems to me to be a real question. There is a reality in blessing, which I take baptism to be, primarily. It doesn’t enhance sacredness, but it acknowledges it, and there is a power in that. I have felt it pass through me, so to speak. The sensation is of really knowing a creature, I mean really feeling its mysterious life and your own mysterious life at the same time.

            Marilynne Robinson in Gilead

The Farewell Tear

a feast of friendship
    a story of betrayal
    a memory of gifts given

you look with such intense love
    on each one gathered there,
    mist covers your deep brown eyes
as you hold each one in your gaze,
    you close your eyes and I see
    the farewell tear of friendship
    as it follows the curve of your cheek.

you take the bread,
    bless it gently, profoundly,
with old words and new.
    (do you mean to say it is yourself?)

and then the wine,
    again with words old and new.
    (do you mean to say this, too,
    is now yourself?)

you look again at each one there
    and give the eternal gift:
    “remember me and do the same.”

like those around the table then,
    so with us who gather now,
if we knew how close our hearts
    are held inside of yours,
    we would always be amazed
    that you meant this for us, too.

how shall we ever be brave enough
to do what you have done,
when grief engulfs our every breath
    and each memorial word
is laden with our loss?

Joyce Rupp

RESPONSE: JESUS, GRANT US STRENGTH TO CARRY OUR CROSS

+On those days when life seems too demanding with all its cares, burdens and concerns…
+When we experience great loneliness deep inside and the pain of separation fills our spirits…
+When we feel the pain of our world and unite in compassion with the Earth’s suffering people…
+When we struggle with decision-making and the time cones to make good choices about our lives…
+When we are with others in their physical pain or when we vigil with one who has a terminal illness…
+When we are asked to go the extra mile, to be generous with our time and our presence…
+When we feel weary and warn out, when it seems like all of our energy has been drained away…
+When wee are challenged to risk our security and to accept new growth in our relationship with you…
+When we experience the effects of aging or extended illness on our bodies or our minds…
+When we feel discouraged, desolate, and depressed and want to withdraw from others…
+When worries and concerns choke our peacefulness and leave us with anxiety and fear…
+When we harbor old wounds and are called to offer or to receive forgiveness…

Crucified Jesus, help us to take up our cross day of by day. Through these crosses we can grow closer to you. Help us to lean on you and to learn from you. May we not give in to self-pity or self-doubt. Rather, let us trust in your presence which strengthens us. Encourge us on our tomb-like days. Remind us of your resurrection. Help us to keep our vision focused on life and growth.  Amen.

Joyce Rupp

Ever-renewing and energizing Creator, come, stir in my dormant spiritual limbs.

Wake up my tired prayer.
Revive my weary efforts of care.
Sing hope into my discouragement.

Wash my dusty, drab attitude with the cleansing rains of your vision.

Go deep to my roots and penetrate my faith with the vibrancy of your grace.

Shake loose the old leftover oak leaves of my tenacious ego-centeredness.

Coax joy to sprout from my difficulties.

Warm the buds of my relationships so they bloom with healthy love.

Clear out my wintered debris with the wild breeze of your liberating presence.= 

Nudge me, woo me, entice me, draw me to you.

I give you my trust and my gratitude as you grace my slowly thawing spirit.

Light –filled Being, my Joy and my Hope, let the greening in me begin!

            Joyce Rupp

Awaken Me

Risen One,
come, meet me
    in the garden of my life.

Lure me into elation.
Revive my silent hope.
Coax my dormant dreams.
Raise up my neglected gratitude.
Entice my tired enthusiasm.
Give life to my faltering relationships.
Roll back the stone of my indifference.
Unwrap the deadness in my spiritual life.
Impart heartiness in my work.

Risen One,
    send me forth as a disciple of your unwavering love,
    a messenger of your unlimited joy.

Resurrected One,
    may I become
ever more convinced
    that your presence lives on,
    and on, and on,
    and on.

Awaken me!
Awaken me!

            Joyce Rupp

Blessing for Pentecost

May the enthusiasm of Spirit leap incessantly within you and help you to lead a vibrant life.

May the warmth of Spirit’s fire be extended through your concern and care for all those who need your love.

May the blaze of Spirit’s courage enable you to speak the truth and to stand up for respect, dignity and justice.

May the undying embers of Spirit’s faithfulness support you when you feel spiritually dry and empty.

May the strength of Spirit’s love sustain your hope as you enter into the pain of our world.

May the clear light of Spirit’s guidance be a source of effective discernment and decision-making for you.

May Spirit’s patient endurance be yours while you wait for what is unknown to be revealed.

May the steady flame of Spirit’s goodness within you convince you every day of the power of your presence with others.

May the joyful fire of Spirit dance within you and set happiness ablaze in your life.

May the spark of your relationship with Spirit catch afire in the hearts of those with whom you live and work.

May you be mindful of the Eternal Flame within you. May you rely on this Source of Love to be your constant ally and steady guide.

            Joyce Rupp

I thirst by day. I watch by night.
I receive! I have been received!
I hear the flowers drinking in their light,
I have taken counsel of the crab and the sea-urchin,
I recall the falling of small waters,
The stream slipping beneath the mossy logs,
Winding down to the stretch of irregular sand,
The great logs piled like matchsticks.

I am most immoderately married:
The Lord God has taken my heaviness away:
I have merged, like the bird, with the bright air,
And my thought flies to the place by the bo-tree.

Being, not doing, is my first job.

            Theodore Roethke

O Awakening Dawn

Come! Come like the day star rising out of the east.
Come bearing the sparkling rays of your sunbeams.
Come carrying baskets of flowers and green-laced leaves.
Call forth blossoms sleeping in the garden of our lives.
O Come!

Joyce Rupp and Macrina Widerkehr

The Prayer for Openness  (Part One)

Spirit of freedom,
open my mind and my heart.
Lift the barriers, unbind the strong grasp of my demands
 when I want everything to go my way.

God of spaciousness,
 reach into my inner space,
 sweep out all the old clutter,
enlarge my capacity to receive.

Bringer of truth,
 empty me of whatever impedes
the growth of our relationship.
Help me recognize and accept
 your sources for my growth.

Creator of the seasons of life,
 soften my resistance to emptying.
May I welcome each inner season
as a catalyst for my transformation.

            Joyce Rupp

The Prayer for Openness (Part II)

Faithful Friend, deepen my trust in you.
Ease my doubts, fears, and discouragements.
When I am feeling vulnerable,
 remind me that you are my safe haven.

Divine Mystery,
 may I be ever more rooted in you.
Draw me into solitude.
Entice me into endless encounters
where I experience oneness with you.

Holy Whisper,
 open the ears of my heart.
May I hear your voice within the silence
as well as within the noise of my life.
Re-awaken me so that I can listen to you
wholeheartedly.

Bringer of Good and Giver of Growth,
 we yearn to be open and receptive
 to your generosity.
May we trust your presence amidst the cycle
 of emptying and filling.

            Joyce Rupp

Falling Leaves

O falling leaves of autumn,
what mysteries of death
you proclaim
to my unwilling self

what eternal truths
you disturb
in the webbings
of my protected heart

what wildness
you evoke
in the gusty dance
of emptying winds

what mellow tenderness
you bravely breathe
in your required surrender

what challenge
you engender
through your painful twists
and turnings

what howl of homelessness
you shriek
with your exile of departure

what daring task
you evoke
as you feed the hungry soil.

O falling leaves of autumn,
with each stem
that breaks,
with each layer of perishing,

you teach me
what is required
if I am to grow
before I die.

            Joyce Rupp

Part One  Prayer of Acceptance 

Eternal One who circles the seasons with ease, teach me about Earth’s natural cycle of turning from one season to another. Remind me often of how she opens herself to the dying and rising rotations, the coming and the going of each of the four seasons. Open me today to the teachings of the season on autumn.

When I accept only the beautiful and reject the tattered, torn parts of who I am, when I treat things that are falling apart as my enemies,

walk me among the dying leaves, let them tell me about their power to energize Earth’s soil by their decomposition and their formation of enriching humus.

When I fear the loss of my youthfulness and refuse to accept the reality of aging,

turn my face to the brilliant colors of autumn trees, open my spirit to the mellow resonance of autumn sunsets and the beauty of the changing land.

Part Two Prayer of Acceptance

When I refuse to wait with the mystery of the unknown, when I struggle to keep control rather than to let life evolve,

wrap me in the darkening days of autumn and encourage me to wait patiently for clarity and vision as I live with uncertainty and insecurity.

When I grow tired of using my own harvest of gifs to benefit others,

take me to the autumn fields where Earth shares the bounty of summer and allows her lands to surrender their abundance.

When I resist efforts to warm a relationship that has been damaged by my coldness,

let me feel the first hard freeze of autumn’s breath and see the death it brings to greening, growing things.

When I neglect to care for myself and become totally absorbed in life’s harried pace,

give me courage to slow down as I see how Earth slows down and allows her soil to rest in silent, fallow space.

Part Three  Prayer of Acceptance

When I fight the changes of unwanted, unsought events and struggle to keep things just as they are instead of letting go,

place me on the wings of traveling birds flying south, willing to leave their nests of comfort as they journey to another destination.

When I fail to say “thank you” and see only what is not, instead of what is,

lead me to gather all the big and little aspects of my life that have blessed me with comfort, hope, love, inner healing, strength, and courage.

Maker of the Seasons, thank you for all that autumn teaches me. Change my focus so that I see not only what I am leaving behind, but also the harvest and the plenitude that my life holds. May my heart grow freer and my life more peaceful as I resonate with, and respond to, the many teachings this season offers to me.

Joyce Rupp and Macrina Wiedekehr

An Autumn Blessing—Part One

Blessed are you, autumn,
chalice of transformation,
you lift a cup of death to our lips
and we taste new life.

Blessed are you, autumn,
season of the heart’s yearning,
you usher us into places of mystery
and, like the leaves, we fall trustingly
into eternal, unseen hands.

Blessed are you, autumn,
with your flair for drama
you call to the poet in our hearts,
“return to the earth, become good soil;
wait for new seeds.”

Blessed are you, autumn,
you turn our faces toward the west.
Prayerfully reflecting on life’s transitory nature
we sense all things moving toward life-giving death.

Blessed are you, autumn,
you draw us away from summer’s hot breath.
As your air becomes frosty and cool
you lead us to inner reflection.

An Autumn Blessing—Part Two

Blessed are you autumn,
season of so much bounty.
You invite us to imitate your generosity
in giving freely from the goodness of our lives,
holding nothing back.

Blessed are you autumn,
your harvesting time has come.
As we gather your riches into our barns,
reveal to us our own inner riches
waiting to be harvested.

Blessed are you, autumn,
season of surrender;
you teach us the wisdom of letting go
as you draw us into new ways of living.

Blessed are you, autumn,
season of unpredictability.
You inspire us to be flexible
to learn from our shifting moods.

Blessed are you, autumn,
feast of thanksgiving.
You change our hearts into fountains of gratitude
as we receive your gracious gifts.

Joyce Rupp and Macrina Widerkehr

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. The danger lies in refusing to face the fear, in not daring to come to grips with it. You must do something you think you cannot do.

            Eleanor Roosevelt

A Closer Look at Thanksgiving—Part One

If you sit on the bank of a river; you see only a small part of its surface.
And yet, the water before your eyes is proof of unknowable depths.
            Anita Diamont, from The Red Tent

If you look at a sunset, you might see only the disappearance of daylight.
If you look beneath, you may see darkness opening the splendor of stars.

If you look at illness and disease, you might see only physical diminishment.
If you look beneath, you may see it as a teacher bringing you vital wisdom.

If you look at a broken relationship, you might see only a harsh ending.
If you look beneath, you may see the courageous seeds of new growth.

If you look at lost dreams, you might see only disappointment and doubt.
If you look beneath, you may see the stuff that new dreams contain.

            Joyce Rupp

A Closer Look at Thanksgiving—Part Two

If you look at the death of a loved one, you might see only pervasive sorrow.
If you look beneath, you may see that love lives on forever in the heart.

If you look at the planet’s pain and creatures’ woe, you might only see despair.
If you look beneath, you may see hope woven in the compassionate care of many.

If you look at yourself, you might see only tarnished unfinishedness.
If you look beneath, you may see your basic goodness shining there.

If you look for the divine being, you might see mostly unresolved questions.
If you look beneath, you may be astounded at the availability of love.

Thanksgiving is a time to look beneath our external lives for the unwavering love, the ceaseless peace, and the enduring strength that lie in the deep waters of our soul. The more we trust the “unknowable depths” of our existence, the more the power of gratitude becomes a song we daily sing. With what do you struggle today? What might lie beneath that struggle for which you can give thanks?

            Joyce Rupp

Our concern must be to live while we’re alive…to release our inner selves from the spiritual death that comes with living behind a façade designed to conform to external definitions of who and what we are.   Elizabeth Kubler Ross

Trying to be what others want us to be is a form of slow torture and certain spiritual death. It is not possible to get all our definitions from outside and maintain our spiritual integrity. We cannot look to others to give us our meaning, and still have any idea of who we are. When we look to others for our identity, we spend most of our time and energy trying to be who they want us to be. And we are so fearful of being found out. We truly believe that it is possible to make others see what we want them to see, and we exhaust ourselves in the process.

            Anne Wilson Schaef

O Antiphons for Autumn
            Part One

O SEASON FULL OF REMEMBERING,

Come! Come with your golden shawl.
Come scattering the beauty of well-aged leaves.
Strengthen us for changing our old patterns.
Give us memories that sustain our dreams.
O Come!

O COOLING BREATH OF AUTUMN,

Come! Come with your natural paradox.
Show us our fullness and emptiness.
Breathe into us a spirit of gracious acceptance.
Tame our desire to have summer stay forever.
O Come!

O SEEDS SPRUNG LOOSE FROM DYING PLANTS,

Come!  Come teach us to be generative.
Carry us to places where we can take root.
Encourage the seed of our love to fall freely.
Gift us with the grace of surrender.
O Come!

O HARVESTER OF WISDOM,

Come!  Come fill us with the waters of wisdom.
Show us the beauty of aging with grace.
Prepare us for the long, dark nights.
Gather from our lives all that has potential.
O Come!

O Antiphons for Autumn
            Part II

O GLEANER OF GARDENS AND FIELDS,

Come! Come gather what is most precious in us.
Urge us to embrace our cornucopia of goodness.
Stir up gratitude and a sense of wonder.
Move us to give freely of our abundant harvest.
O Come!

O RUSTLING LEAVES FALLING FROM THE TREES,

Come! Come live inside our aching goodbyes.
Teach us the truth of life’s impermanence.
Empty us of all that does not bless others.
Draw us into the waiting soil of wintertime.
O Come!

O RISING HARVEST MOON,

Come! Come dance your beauty into our world.
Carve a path of light between night shadows.
Soften our transitions with your moonbeams.
Shine on all weary travelers of the heart.
O Come!

O FIRST WHITE FINGERS OF DEADENING FROST,

Come! Come with your touch of mortality.
Carry us into the heart of deepest truth.
Befriend that which needs to die in us.
Teach us to be ready for the great letting go.
O Come!

Joyce Rupp and Macrina Wiederkehr

            Each of us has a well of wisdom from which to drink. Each of us has an individual source that waits for us to discover it and draw from it in order to fill our thirsting spirits. This does not man we are to disregard the wisdom contained in the wells of others. Rather, it is an encouragement to trust our own resources, to believe that what is held within our own well is also of immense value and worth. Too often we are led to believe that the wisdom of someone else’s well is better than ours. We can so easily treasure their wisdom and discount the marvelous source of spiritual and intellectual nourishment within ourselves.

            Joyce Rupp and Macrina Widerkehr

In this week of Thanksgiving: Gratitude, Part One

To be grateful for what is,
     instead of underscoring what is not.

To find good amid the unwanted aspects of life,
     without denying the presence of the unwanted.

To focus on beauty in the little things of life,
     as well as being deliberate about the great beauties
     of art, literature, music and nature.

To be present to one’s own small space of life,
     while stretching to the wide world beyond it.

To find something to laugh about in every day,
     even when there seems nothing to laugh about.

To search for and to see the good in others,
     rather than remembering their faults and weaknesses.

Joyce Rupp

Gratitude, Part Two

To be thankful for each loving deed done by another;
     no matter how insignificant it might appear.

To taste life to the fullest,
     and not take any part of it for granted.

To seek to forgive others for their wrongdoings,
     even immense ones, and to put the past behind.

To find ways to reach out and help the disenfranchised,
     while also preserving their dignity and self-worth.

To be as loving and caring as possible,
     in a culture that consistently challenges these virtues.

To remember to say or send “thank you”
     for whatever comes as a gift from another.

To be at peace with what cannot be changed.

Joyce Rupp

Learn to get in touch with silence within yourself and know that everything in this life has a purpose. There are no mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings given to us to learn from.

            Elizabeth Kubler Ross

Something in my human psyche
keeps wanting to light up the darkness,
to stay away from the silent shadows
and steer clear from thick, black nights.

Perhaps I have not spent enough time
holding hands with long winter evenings.
Not all darkness demands a shining candle
held before its coal black eyes.

            From Winter Darkness by Joyce Rupp

Winter’s Cloak

This year I do not want the dark to leave me.
I need its wrap of silent stillness, its cloak of long lasting embrace.
Too much light has pulled me away from the chamber of gestation.

Let the dawns come late, let the sunsets arrive early,
let the evenings extend themselves while I lean into the abyss of my being.

Let me lie in the cave of my soul,
     for too much light blinds me,
     steals the source of revelation.

Let me seek solace in the empty places of winter’s passage,
those vast dark nights that never fail to shelter me.

            Joyce Rupp         

            O Antiphons for Winter

O Frosty Season,

Come! Come etch your face onto our windowpane.
Light a candle in our hearts each morning.
Reveal to us the beauty of waiting in the darkness.
Keep vigil with us in this nurturing season.
O Come!

O Season of the Sheltered Seed,

Come! Come call us to be guardians of life.
Smile through the darkness of long nights.
Remind us that each seed needs a winter.
Invite us to trust what is shrouded in mystery.
O Come!

O Season of the Long Darkness,

Come! Come with your misty grey cloak.
Cast your dark robe over all that needs sleep.
Surround us with faith in the unknown.
Protect us from too much light.
O Come!

O Wise Season of Reflection,

Come! Come with your teachable moments.
Summon our spiritual powers.
Invoke our interior strength.
Heal our reluctance to wait for spring.
O Come!

O Season of Billiant Sunsets,

Come! Come to all that has grown dim in us.
Sing your winter chants to our reluctant hearts.
Cast beauty into our winter world.
Reveal to us our own gift of being light in darkness.
O Come!

O Season of Mystery and Contemplation,

Come!  Come into the fallow ground of our being.
Allure us from doing into non-doing.
Reveal to us the hidden wisdom in our souls.
Restore what is out of balance in our lives.
O Come!

O Wintry Storybook Season

Come! Come lift memories out of darkness.
Create new stories that have never been told.
Stir through the golden pages of our lives.
Recite poetry to us: tell us our names.
O Come!

O Season of Hidden Life,
Come! Come teach us humility.
Cut through the frozen ground of our being.
Soften that which as become hard and unfeeling.
Free all that resists the silent waiting.
O Come!

            Joyce Rupp and Macrina Wiederkehr

            Already the days are noticeably longer; before we lose the sense of the dark as part of this season of winter, let us reflect on the gifts of enriching darkness.

Kinds of Enriching Darkness
nurturing darkness
 comforting darkness
 sheltering darkness
restful darkness
 restorative darkness
protective darkness
supporting darkness
love-making darkness
tender darkness
 soft, gentle darkness
clarifying darkness
 emancipating darkness
transforming darkness

            Joyce Rupp and Macrina Widerkehr

The highest reward for human toil is not what we get for it, but what we become by it.

            John Ruskin

…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.

            The art of mindful living requires keep interest and a lifetime of gentle and determined effort, falling asleep and remembering to wake up again and again. Too often meditators begin practice in a grim, joyless, and ambitious way, but that kind of practice—as the Chinese master Wu Men said—“is to wear chains and an iron yoke.”  Effort is needed to launch the art of mindful living, but not effort loaded down with comparison and self-condemnations. Mindfulness actually makes your mind lighter and freer.

            Developing this kind of simplicity in your life does not limit you, as some people fear. It actually makes your life fuller. We have talked about the need to discover simplicity on the cushion, but it is just as necessary in daily life. We find real satisfaction not by the incessant longing after newer and newer goals but by taking joy in the small things that actually make up our lives.

            Larry Rosenberg “Breath by Breath”

            One time I when I was visiting a friend, he kept playing with his dog, throwing a plastic bone for the dog to go fetch.  It not only wasn’t a real bone, it wasn’t even a convincing fake; pieces of meat were painted on the plastic.  Yet no matter how many times he threw the bone, the dog ran after it, with great excitement.  He kept chasing this plastic bone, which had no nourishment whatsoever, as if it could somehow satisfy him.  Suddenly I realized: that’s my mind, chasing after thoughts.  The mind doesn’t think it’s chasing a plastic bone with pieces of meat painted on it, of course.  It thinks it’s pursuing something that will have a vital effect on its life.  But if we look more closely at the objects that the mind chases, we notice a similar lack of nourishment.

            In contrast to that, think of a lion.  Can you imagine how a lion—sitting in that majestic way they have—would react if you threw him a bone (especially a plastic one)?  He wouldn’t even notice.  He’d just stare at you.  Lions stay focused on the source.  That’s the attitude we need to have, sitting with that deep calm, that steadiness of purpose, not chasing after every bone that flies our way.  We need to develop lion mind.

            Larry Rosenberg in “Breath by Breath”

In some ways this entire practice, everything the Buddha said, is concerned with having respect—an infinite respect—for life.  That’s what living dharma is finally about.  It’s one of the things that Mother Teresa has shown us: that the poorest of the poor, in the last moments of their lives, are worthy of total regard.  So are the most ordinary events in our lives.

            Larry Rosenberg in “Breath by Breath”

Archbishop Oscar Romero, Martyr of San Salvador, 1980

            MERCIFUL AND JUST GOD, we praise you for empowering your son Oscar to be a ‘voice for the voiceless’ of El Salvador.  We note that he spent most of his life as a quietly faithful priest with no sign of the prophet he was to become.  While lamenting the assassination of the Jesuit, Rutilio Grande, because of his commitment to social justice, Oscar channeled his grief over Rutilio’s murder into action by continuing Rutilio’s work for justice.  We proclaim Oscar’s clear vision of the church’s role in standing with the poor and condemning injustice.  Give us the love and courage to stand beside those in our communities and in the world who are in need.  Help us to discern whether our call is to be a voice for the voiceless or an advocate for the powerless, so they may speak for themselves and be heard.  Enable us to stand with our sisters and brothers despite the cost.  Amen.

            “She Who Prays”

From Sacred Journeys

I tell you this:
three hundred years later
the women are crying out
that there is better news
for these days.
I have seen it
breaking bread at the table,
embracing the brokenhearted,
touching with oil
the wounded and weary,
laughing and dancing and singing
and free.
It is beautiful, I tell you,
and it is strong,
and it is rising.

            Jan L. Richardson

The Rainbow of Thy Peace

O bless this people, Lord, who seek their own face
under the mask and can hardly recognize it….

O bless this people that breaks its bond…

And with them, all the peoples of Europe,
Al the peoples of Asia,
All the peoples of Africa,
All the peoples of America,
Who sweat blood and sufferings.

And see, in the midst of these million waves,
The sea swell of the heads of my people.
And grant to their warm hands that they may clasp
The earth in a girdle of brotherly hands,
Beneath the rainbow of thy peace.

Leopold Sedar Senghor, a noted French poet and essayist was president of Senegal, West Africa, in the 1960’s, from “An African Prayerbook”

We invoke your blessing on all the men and women
who have toiled to build and warm our homes, to
fashion our clothing, and to wrest from sea and land
the food that nourishes us and our children.
We pray you that they may have health and joy,
and hope and love, even as we desire for our loved ones.
            Grant us wisdom to deal justly with every man
and woman whom we face in the business of life.
            May we not unknowingly inflict suffering
through selfish indifference or the willful ignorance
of a callous heart…

            Walter Rauschenbusch from “Prayers for Healing”

There is a force within that gives you life—
Seek that
In your body there lies a priceless jewel—
Seek that.
Oh, wandering Sufi,
if you are in search of the greatest treasure,
don’t look outside,
Look within, and seek That.

            Rumi trans. by Jonathan Star from “Prayers for Healing”

Jesus, first Bread blessed and broken, you ask me to be your leaven.  You lift me to your Father and gift me with your loving.

I, just a handful of dough, am asked to be the leaven for a whole batch of people os that faith will rise in hearts.  It is humbling to be your leaven.  It is risky to be your holy.  It is goodness t