New Birth

In this time of darkness and the onset of winter, we celebrate once again the story of birth: the Christ child and all the magic and mystery of that, and we celebrate the birth of light – new light, not the same light of last year, or even of yesterday, but a whole new light, a new season, a new self.  As we reflect on the year that’s passed, and the place we find ourselves in now, are you where you thought you would be? How has the year changed you?  Challenged you? Surprised you? Does the story ever turn out completely the way we imagine?

As parents know, birthing a child into the world--and the many ways it transforms us--is a lot more than what we expect. The daily challenge can’t be known prior to its coming into being, nor can the wealth of profound love and joy. I remember an evening when John River was about 7 or 8 months old, pre-verbal.We were up in the night together after a feeding and I sat with him cradling him and we sat gazing at each other and smiling.

I thought I had never seen such an exquisitely pure and beautiful being in all my life. I asked him, “Where did you come from?” And right at that moment, he pointed his tiny starfish hand at the tip of my nose and said with perfect pronunciation, “You.” I would have to say it was the first word he spoke, but I cannot explain it. I laughed out loud and tears welled in my eyes. It was a miraculous moment, a moment that felt to me like God’s hand had reached out and touched me.

In reflecting on it, I realized, as mystical as his response was, there is more to it than that. Yes he comes from me, but more as a stopping-over place. Where he comes from is much, much greater than this individual. Kalil Gibrain states it poetically, “your children are not your children, they are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself…they come through you but not from you, and though they are with you, they belong not to you.”

As we give birth to the new in our lives, whether it be a child or a creative project, a new job, a relationship, a garden, our faith reminds us that it is God being born in the world, God coming through us, beauty being expressed in and through the human form. As the song, “This Night” goes that my beloved wrote, “We tell the old story that brings us together, the light of the child that is born anew, deep in our heart, the memory: Love is in the world this night, a chance to recall, once more a chance to begin.”

Once more, a chance to understand that we are not the sole creators, we are the co-creators. We are not the proprietors, we are the borrowers, the stewards. We are not residents, we are visitors, here for a short while to be the mystical-physical channel through which goodness and generosity come to transform this world.

In this way, we can stand aside and stand in awe and deference as we bear witness to this miraculous and precious life. And we can release our burdens to our creator and rest in the knowing that we are not and cannot be alone on the path. May the peace of God’s light that surpasses our understanding give each of you comfort and a joy in the season ahead.              

Rev. Katherine Silvan

A Christmas Finding

During our recent move from one home to another, as we began the long process of unpacking our boxes, my husband came to me, holding sailing gloves in his hands, and said: "Where did you find these? I have been looking for these for years. I couldn't find them anywhere. For six years!"

A few minutes later, he came in holding a certain kind of power cord. "Where did you find this to pack it? I didn't know we still had it. I searched the house for it last year."

A song came instantly to mind, one I love, that I am almost certain was written by Starhawk. The lyrics: "Everything lost is found again, in a new form, in a new way. Everything hurt is healed again, in a new time, in a new day."

I love this simple, profound, honest song for the very miracle it eloquently, succinctly reminds us of. To me, it is the same miracle that is found in Christmas.

In the past few years, I have had two friends, young women, one with two daughters--an infant and a toddler--lose their spouses. I have had two other friends lose newborn children. I am sure you know of many, maybe even too many, who have lost things or people they treasure. What is the assurance of this season? As we lose the "sun," moving through the longest night of the year, what is the promise?

What is lost, will be found--in a new form. What is broken, will be restored--in a new way. It is the promise of the rose, as in the song Betty Midler sings, "Just remember, in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow, lies the seed, that with the sun's love, in the spring, becomes the rose."

One of my friends who lost her daughter at three days old has miraculously found the courage to conceive again. She will welcome a son in the early spring. One of my friends who lost her partner of nine years, has found love again; she did not think she could.

The "sun" rises. At Christmas, we think of it as the "son." They are the same. The power of restoration, finding what we have lost, is not an optimist's irrational pinning. It is a reality I see every day. Don't you?

If you are broken this season, lost or missing something lost--hold on! Your spring will come. Look for the new form, the new way, the new time, the new day. And for those who have already been given the blessing of that realization, for whom this idea is not a stranger but a comforting, true, reliable friend--rejoice!

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Solstice, Blessed New Year, much love and peace,
Rev. Sam Wilde

The You-Can't-Get-What-You-Want Blessing

About a week ago I had a conversation with God about the new house my husband and I are buying. It went something like this: "God, thank you for everything. Thank you for this new house. But how come you couldn't get me the house I really wanted? Didn't you get the memo about my dream house? Why can't I have my dream house?"

I've had more gracious prayer moments, of course, but I'm being honest here. It was a whiny-prayer and a truthful one. I simply couldn't understand why God hadn't supplied the house I longed for. Hadn't I been clear in my prayers? Hadn't I made my desires known? Was I not praying in the right way to manifest my perfect dream?

I felt frustrated, because while I liked the house we chose, it wasn't my style. While there are things I love, it didn't feel like me. In a very immature, but very real way, I knew God wanted me to be happy (this is, in fact, based on the scriptures of every great religious tradition)--so why not a house a little closer to my heart?

I got an answer. It came like this: "I'm not interested in getting you what you want. I'm interested in who you become." In a flash, I understood. The struggle with the house was a gift. Not getting what I want was a blessing, because in that happening, I could become more of who I needed to be, a better person, somehow--even if I didn't know how exactly at that moment.

I thought of taking care of my own children. Many times I make sure they do not get the thing they want--if it's not good for them, not safe, not the right time, not possible, or not in their best interest. Their frustration when I frustrate their desires is abundantly clear, but I don't care as much about their immediate gratification as I do about their hearts, their characters, their health.

The Divine Mother/Father, our true Parent, gives with intelligence and Love. For a moment I got it, and I could feel God's goodness in the decision my husband and I had made. It was a wonderful reminder that God's love is continuous, constant and always seeks our ultimate good--helping us to become who God knows we are, a reflection of the Divine.

--Rev. Sam Wilde

Ways to Thanks-giving

When I was in Divinity School, I had a friend who hosted Thanksgiving. She gathered up many of us who were not away for the holiday for an incredible meal. Before eating, we all sat down and shared our gratitude. This could take almost an hour as each person shared an incredible list of thankfulness. (In fact, one year, I brought a written list so I wouldn’t forget anything!)

The spirit of the practice was meditative, as each person took as long as necessary to say whatever they needed while deliciously conjuring up the sources of their joy. While we waited to eat our feast, we fed upon true spiritual food. I can still remember the feeling of that full table, candles lit (food waiting in the oven to stay warm), surrounded by the faces of my friends. The atmosphere changed as we recited all our blessings. Just as the smells of the dishes filled the air, the gratitude had an aroma, a sweetness that enveloped the room.

I do miss that ritual. Now, with children hungry and tired and impatient and young, we scramble to say a quick thank you before we dive in, or we dive in first and give thanks while we eat. Generally, there is chaos, not meditation, and I often eat quickly so I can hustle the cranky baby up to bed.

I like the practice of sinking myself deeply into gratitude. And I like to see what comes up as a result. For me, one of the direct results of feeling blessed is the urge to bless others. Again, though, I come up with a stumbling block. I used to be able to spend hours on projects, on service, giving my time to others. With three small children and household and work demands, I sometimes feel I don’t have enough time even for us. This feels awful. I want to give a return for the bounty I have been given.

I know, however, that there are seasons to one’s life. Having young children doesn’t lend itself well to many and in-depth service projects. Which is why I spend a lot of time brainstorming small ways that I can be a blessing to others. I want to share these with you.

And, as tomorrow is the biggest shopping day of the season, I want to share them in the spirit of genuine giving—the sort that can be done even for those of us who may have little money and—sometimes!—little time.

Some little ideas for giving thanks back:

Call someone. Anyone is fine. Maybe someone who has gone through a hard time, lost a spouse or a parent or a child. Tell them you are thinking of them and loving them.

Send a card. Fill it with loving thoughts and words. Send it to someone who may not get much mail.

Cook a meal for a busy person, a parent, someone who works long hours, someone who doesn’t like to cook, or doesn’t often get home cooked meals. Drop it off. Or cook a meal and invite a friend over.

Pray to be helpful. Ask the Divine Spirit to put people in your path who you can help with your abilities and gifts—whatever they may be.

Hug someone, or many people, even if it feels a little awkward. Do you know that some people don’t get hugged at all! Find one of those people, and even if it is hard, hug.

Forgive your family members and relatives. A good Thanksgiving ritual. No need to do it out loud or make a big deal of it. Silently forgive while you share food by sending love.

Pray. Think of those who are hurting and see them well, whole, healthy and at peace.

Bypass the food bank. If you know someone in your community who goes without, and you know where they live, leave food for them, or money, or a small gift, like a gas card from the store.

Smile, especially when you don’t feel like it, and especially at those who may be frowning. You can think of this in the cyber world too. Put something uplifting on Facebook or another medium you use. Use technology to encourage.

Invite someone for a walk. Walks in beautiful places are the perfect, free gift. When the weather is nice, you can walk and share a picnic.

What ideas do you have?

Rev. Sam Wilde

Powerless=Powerful

At our home in Massachusetts, the power turned off last Saturday night around eight p.m. All around the branches creaked, cracked, thudded to the ground. The 13 inches of snow took the leaves of our cherry tree completely to the ground. Although we wouldn't know it that night as we snuggled in tight under our heavy covers, it would be six more complete days before the power restoration. As our house is in the woods and we have no wood stove, we would also have six days without running water or heat, as well as the usual comforts of lights and refrigerator.

It was a long, stressful week, bouncing from one friend's house to another. The children were cranky and confused and probably a little afraid. The roads were dangerous with downed wires and massive trees hung precariously across power lines. The house, when we came to check on it, became colder and colder, filling with the smell of a fridge full of food now gone sour and toilets flushed with buckets of water.

It was, admittedly, hard to keep a happy face. I had laundry to face and nowhere to do it, including a pile of soiled clothes from a child who kept having accident after accident. Not wanting to outstay our welcome anywhere, we spent afternoons driving in the car. This allowed the kids to nap.

It was frustrating and annoying and difficult, to be sure. In the midst of the powerlessness, however, shining pearls of truth dropped into our lives, like those heavy trees arriving with certainty to the ground. We connected with friends and neighbors whose hospitality and kindness carried us through our days. We had meals and conversations we never would have had otherwise, making a host of new memories, and for a week setting aside entirely the TV, the computer, even the phone.

What is the true power? I have always believed it is love--not the sentiment, but the lived, expressed verb of love. This is what we met in the faces of those who took in our family of five and housed us and fed us breakfast and shared with us a fellowship of common humanity.

I like electricity, of course. For all sorts of reasons. But I am grateful to have been reminded of the true power source in my life, in the lives of my children. The internet for all its marvels, does not connect us, nor the telephone, nor the television, nor the busy demands of a household with all its incredible machines. "Only connect," wrote E.M. Forester about a century ago. Our connections are precious treasures.

That first morning I found myself standing on my street, trapped. A tree down on one side, wires on the other. My cell phone had no signal. We had no water, no heat. From the houses around us emerged the neighbors I have spent years making connections with and I was no longer alone, nor was I trapped, nor was I without the essentials of life. To the contrary, in the most profound way, I had everything I needed.

Sometimes a disaster is truthful--and truth isn't a disaster, but a reminder of power in our lives. We truly do not live by bread alone, but in and through and with one another, find, discover, remind, and reclaim the Divine reflection, the indwelling divinity, Love expressed, the Love that needs no outlets, not motors, no wires, no repair.

--Rev. Sam Wilde

The Goodness of the World

I had a rotten day last week. Every direction I turned, I seemed to face obstacles. I received a frustrating, unkind email. Conversations meant to bring consensus brought more complications. A driver yelled at me, swearing and cursing, after I made a minor traffic mistake. It was one of those days, a kind most of us have, when the world, and its inhabitants, don't seem very beautiful at all.

In fact, I headed into the woods for a hike with my children feeling like people in general were difficult and annoying. Things, even little things, seemed hard. I felt glad to be in the woods, away from traffic and emails and phone calls and relationships. The trees and the streams and the dirt path were a relief.

As the children skipped and frolicked with pure joy, I began to relax. Together we came around a bend in the river and stopped to throw stones into the water. After a few minutes, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, two younger men on the path. They were wearing sagging jeans and hooded sweatshirts and laughing. They were probably college age. I immediately felt uncomfortable. I wondered what they were doing in the woods. I figured they must have come in to smoke pot. They did not seem like the types to take a nature hike.

They got closer to us and I could hear their voices and almost continuous laughter. So much laughter, in fact, that I decided they must already be high, or perhaps drunk. While I didn't fear for our safety, I was eager to have them pass.

And the did. But first they smiled and said hello to all four of us. One said, "You've got the whole gang!" and gave another laugh. The laughs were feeling up the forest. Still, I was happy to have them walk on.

A few minutes later, we continued on our way and came to a place where, normally, when the river is low, you can cross by using stepping stones. With all the rain we had that week, it was no longer possible to forge the river that way. Instead, someone had put down a heavy branch. Crossing it was possible, but only just. I had a baby on my back in a hiker, a three year-old and a five-year old. I didn't want to fall in with Emmett on my back, and I wasn't sure my young daughter would be able to make the distance.

The four of us contemplated the route for a few moments. The young men, now on the other side, turned to see us.

"Hey," one of them said in a lilting, melodic voice. "Do you want some help?" And then the two men helped us all across the river.

What restored my heart that day was not, simply, the beauty of nature, but the beauty of those two human beings. They restored my faith in the goodness of people and so also in the goodness of the world. They returned my mind to a place of innocence--seeing the innocence of those around me. I was disappointed in my own initial suspicion of them, but I know sometimes it is hard to feel good about others, about the world. And yet, the goodness of the world remains present, close at hand, unexpected and joyful, just like those two men.

May you run into such goodness this week, in surprising form, and know it also as your own. This wonderful kindness surrounds us, carries us over the makeshift bridges, fills the forest with laughter and heals the suspicious heart. It is God moving in and through us and others, Love expressed, Love received.

--Rev. Sam Wilde

Home

My family is in the process of selling our home, the home all three of my children were born into. I labored here and nursed them through all their newborn days in this bedroom, rocked them and sang to them in this nursery, cleaned up a thousand spills and exuberantly flung Cheerios in this kitchen and countless times chased them round and round the downstairs rooms. It is hard to leave! We have cultivated the berry bushes on our land and worked the soil year after year to improve our vegetable crops. Slowly, through small changes, we have made the house what we needed.

Today, during a quiet moment with my baby, I felt tears begin to overcome me at the thought of parting from a house that holds so many precious, irreplaceable memories. As I started to indulge them, I had a counter thought come to my mind: those memories belong to me, not to the house. Then I asked myself: where is your true home?

This question of the perfect home has come up for my family over and over again as we have gone in search of our new house. Where will we live? What town? What neighborhood? What style home? Every new house has something different wrong with it, a new kind of compromise, a problem, a missing piece. The perfect house seems not just elusive but impossibly expensive! And when I let myself get frustrated about that, I think that I will not ever have the home I most desire.

As I nursed Emmett today, I let myself have a conversation with Love that took me beyond these strong emotions to the comfort found in truth. Where is my true home? Is it ever in a single house? Can it be in a house at all?

There is a sweet chant I like to sing and one line of it is: "For God is my home." God, by whatever name you may use, is truly the perfect home for each of us. When we feel "at home" it is because we recognize the God-qualities in a place--peacefulness, joyfulness, spaciousness, love and ease. Also, when we don't find them, we can "put" them into a place with our own God-qualities. As a matter of fact, when I first moved into the house we live in now (the one I was just crying over leaving), I didn't like it at all. I found it dark and small and outdated and wrong for me. Over the years, we have poured love into our house, we have loved here, and Love is now reflected in this place.

What a comfort to know that the Love that makes a home goes with me wherever I go, and, like those memories, does not belong to a room or a location. No true and great thing does. How turtle like is our place in God, then. We carry our home with us, our home is all around us, a shelter and protection, a refuge and a sanctuary.

Rev. Sam Wilde

Our thoughts are not who we are

Thoughts flow through the mind endlessly. The river of our thoughts create our experience and feeling tone in our lives. We cannot control which thoughts arise in our minds. However,
We have choices on how to approach them.

I would like to share three ways to approach thoughts which have helped me, when I feel
uncentered, disconnected from love and from God.

In order to create a change, I have to first notice that my mind is moving in a direction that
escalates feelings of doubt, fear, anger, insecurity, or any negative energy. The awareness
Of observing the thought pattern assists in detaching from the identification with the thoughts.
Once I can see what is happening, I no longer am the victim of my thoughts. Distance is created. I become the witness to my thoughts and no longer see myself as the thoughts.

We are the witness of our lives. We are pure consciousness.

I have the choice now to decide if I want to continue experiencing the suffering or to
redirect my attention toward a direction that brings healing and peace.

My teacher, Swami Satchidananda, advised me to repeat my mantra when my mind
indulges in harmful thinking. It works and is a very simple practice. A mantra is a sacred sound vibration which uplifts the mind. The energy of the sound is healing. A very simple mantra is:
Om Shanti. Shanti means peace in Sanskrit. If you are more comfortable repeating peace in English, that works also. There are thousands of mantras. Use the one that works for you.
This is a form of training the mind. We benefit from being in charge of our thoughts instead of our thoughts being in charge of us.
I enjoy practicing metta when my thoughts are not helpful toward my well being.
Metta is wonderful at any time.  It is a practice taught by the Buddha to his disciples
to help develop loving kindness and compassion in our heart. We begin with repeating the following phrases to ourselves:
May I be safe from inner and outer harm
May my mind be peaceful and happy
May my body be healthy and strong
May I live with ease in this life.
You can alter the phrases so that they feel good to you.
Engaging in a spiritually uplifting practice helping to open the heart shifts energy into
A healing direction. In doing metta, do not be surprised if sometimes you feel unloving toward yourself instead of loving. It is a part of the process. Be clear about your intention of
Moving toward loving kindness and allow whatever needs to be cleared and felt move through you.  Compassion toward your human experience will arise in time.

I hope that these suggestions are helpful. 
Truth is one.
Paths are many.

With love,
Rev. Supriya Swerdlick

Stay on the Path

Many years ago I heard for the first time the phrase, "trust the process," which is now, in certain circles, thrown around as a cure-all much in the same way "Let go and let God" is used. Trusting in the process means relaxing into the flow of life with the a belief in its goodness. In an essential way, it is the very base level of faith--a belief that there is something beyond us, something both seen and unseen, something greater and powerfully real.

Last week I took my children, a friend, and her child, to walk a labyrinth. It was a spectacular sunny, summer day. We had views of the mountains and down into a lake. We walked through a field of wild flowers to pass through a wooden arch into the labyrinth where the children, the three little walkers, began to excitedly follow the path as it circled in and then out and then back in again. On their way to the center, they each asked me, at different times, how to get to the end. My son even once traveled backwards, worried he had made a misstep. "You can't get off the path," I told them. "Just keep walking and you will get there."

In the labyrinth, this is absolutely true. All you need to do is keep walking on the path. If you follow it, it will lead you where you want to go. You simply cannot get lost. It isn't a maze with false dead-ends, though at times it can seem similarly confusing. But with a maze you may not make your destination. In a labyrinth, put one foot in front of the other and you can't not make it.

As I walked the labyrinth and kept saying over and over to the children, "just stay on the path. Keep going. You'll get there," I heard my own voice and my own words like an offering. "Just keep walking. Stay on the path." I began to savor the idea that you can't get off the path, and I started to see how this is the truth of life, though at times we may not believe it. But faith and trust require a level of daring, a willingness to let go of pretending we know everything, to find we have been given all we need to know.

"Trust the process" may be trite at times, or insufficient, but it speaks to the simple truth of Divine Love's universe: you will make it to the center. No matter the circuitous path or the moments when you may fear. "Just keep walking." You will get there. We do not need to know how it unfolds exactly. We can let go of our disbelief and open to a more childlike delight just as the three children at the labyrinth, on their second stroll around, began to giggle and skip, run and hop the labyrinth walk. They knew, then, that they could not get lost. And neither can we.

--Rev. Sam Wilde

Faith Amalgam

Recently I was asked to lead worship at a local Christian church, something I do on occasion.  Whenever I am asked I feel obligated to say “yes.” I gave up being a pleaser many years ago; my life subsequently got a lot more interesting when I started doing only things I felt really called to do. Leading worship is, however, not one of those things. In fact I have always felt out of place in such a role…Me? In a robe? You might be wondering, then, why I would say “yes.”

As an Interfaith Minister, I truly believe that the only singular path to God is the one each soul chooses to take in this lifetime. I find beauty and merit in all faiths at their core and have lived my life with a Faith Amalgam, borrowing from the wisdom of the Lakota, the Sufis, the Buddhists, Christians, Jews, Taoists and more.

Studying a wide range of traditions has worked for me, enriched my life, opened my mind and fostered in me a tolerance for even the fundamentalists. Because I see the Path of Faith as a labyrinth, the circuitous path that leads always to the same center no matter where you begin.

When I am asked to share a message in a Christian church, it feels like a great challenge, not the size of it, the degree of worth. It seems to me the world has never needed the Interfaith message more than now -when it seems the left hand has no tolerance for the right and would rather cut it off than oblige a compromise. So, I say “yes” in the hopes of bringing to a community of faith, the primary Inter-faith directive: Love. In fact, isn’t it the primary directive of any religion in its concentrated state?

So, the senior pastor of said Christian church got wind that an Interfaith minister had been invited to preach the following Sunday in her staid and called to interrogate me. “Now, where is it you were ordained?” and “What exactly does your seminary teach?” etc. I told her that we believe that God is Love and there are many paths to love; we practice tolerance and diversity of all faiths as long as they are non-violent. We promote peace, community and respect. She responded, “I’m sorry, but that’s not the direction I am taking this church.” She went on to tell me how progressive and tolerant she really was, but just could not have that kind of message when her main goal was to build her church.

I felt the fear come through in her voice, I felt the wall that separates the “us” and “them.” And, I felt the judgment rise in me, a moment of sadness for the lost opportunity – for myself and her church community, and I felt a jab of hurt, I had never been rejected before, this was a blow to my ministerial ego. Then my own words circled back on me like a boomerang, “…tolerance…peace ... respect.” 

It was, for sure a “practice what you preach” moment. It also reminded me to keep following my path not the path anyone else thinks I should take. In doing what we love, believe in and are drawn to, we fulfill our destiny and give to the world the very specific gifts that have been planted in us to give. Isn’t that what any of us can hope to accomplish?

Howard Thurman, theologian, writes, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs are people who have come alive.”

Breath

Sometimes we get flooded with thoughts, feelings, or sensations.
We get overwhelmed. Sometimes we are confused, undecided, uncentered and we have lost our clarity and sense of well being.
We feel that life is out of control. That we are out of control.
Sometimes life throws us surprises we feel that we are not prepared for. We are stressed and need to love ourselves back to balance and
Equanimity.

Our breath is a wonderful way back to our experience of
Peace and comfort inside our own skin.
Focusing on our breath listening to it, feeling it move through our bodies, allowing ourselves to relax into our own natural rhythm brings
Us home to our centered self. Attention on the breath allows us to witness our thoughts, feelings and sensations; as we slow ourselves down we have space to collect ourselves, our most evolved self is able to come forth and we can embrace ourselves, each other and our experience. Flooding leads to survival mode, defensive behavior
(fight or flight) and breathing with awareness leads to openness
And a return to love.

Rev. Supriya Hermenze

Is it the End of the World?

So much lately, in world news, has been excellent fuel for those in the global community who believe the end times are near. Disasters of every kind, natural and economic, killing, death, and greed make the headlines, and those who are moved to help can barely keep up with the tragedies. In my own neck of the woods, a woman, who had a FEMA trailer as a result of losing her home in early June in a extreme torrnado, had that same trailer destroyed last week in a freak microburst. People shake their heads and say, "what is the world coming to?" And more seriously, some people, in some places, are scared.

I came across this piece written by Martin Luther King in a response to the Norway tragedy.

I am convinced that love is the most durable power in the world. It is not an expression of impractical idealism, but of practical realism. Far from being the pious injunction of a Utopian dreamer, love is an absolute necessity for the survival of our civilization. To return hate for hate does nothing but intensify the existence of evil in the universe. Someone must have sense enough and religion enough to cut off the chain of hate and evil, and this can only be done through love. ~MLK

I don't think I can add to this, certainly not with any more eloquence, power or truth, save to say, I think we ought not merely to Love, but to FOCUS on love, not simply do GOOD, but LOOK for the good. As a culture we are obsessed with disaster, and we must actively free ourselves from this addiction by retraining our minds to see the Love around us, talk about it, build it up, add to it, the same way we can generate excitement and energy around the dismal news.

Love is a "practical realism." It is a real tool we can use, not some sentimental Hallmark card. It is a force and a power. We ought to train ourselves to know it, use it, and grow it. Rather than being helpless in the face of it's opposite, we can become professional Lovers. We can learn about it, notice it, and swiftly use it, in every situation, every day. If hateful acts begin with a seed of hate to which a person puts lots of time, energy and attention, so do acts of Love. And there are more Lovers among us than haters, so let's begin to take seriously our work keeping in mind: love never fails.  --Rev. Sam Wilde

So the light can get in

Everything has a crack in it so the light can get in. These words are paraphrased from a Leonard Cohen song called Anthem. How futile our ideas of perfection!

When we feel the crack, the pain, the resistance, the automatic defense, alienation, separateness, the self righteousness, the judgement, what do we do?  Do we hide? Do we run? Do we argue? Do we fight? Do we blame? Do we escape into pleasure? Do we eat? Do we drink?

 

Do we numb ourselves watching TV? Do we berate ourselves? Do we compare? Do we sleep? Do we intellectualize and explain the reasons and the causes? Do we go to God to deny our experience

or escape? 

Or do we turn to God to own our experience, to feel, to increase our awareness, to surrender and return to love, to our center and to having compassion for ourselves and humanity?

In gratitude and respect,

Rev. Supriya  Swerdlick Hermenze

Something Worth Celebrating

I remember the moment I walked in on my fiancé having a very intimate conversation with another woman who he was clearly having an affair with.  At once I felt my whole world implode and felt my whole being awaken. It felt electric, the fear, the shock and then the relief that the truth was known. I had come to the point where I stated, “God, THY will be done. Whatever it is. I will stay if that is my path and I will leave all my plans behind, if that is my path.”  I was utterly dependent.

And so my path was known. I left the house without looking back. I stayed with friends until I could sort out a new place to live and a new plan for my life. I felt for the first time, that I was completely trusting God to see me through. I have never felt closer in contact, in heart and mind than I did in those hot and vulnerable days.

 Three days later, a friend I’d just met mentioned that her roommate was moving out and she was seeking a replacement. I moved right in. We became great friends. I started a spiritual study group out of our home and one of the women introduced me to the seminary where I became ordained two years later; and a year after that met the love of my life.  Every blessing I now celebrate in my life unfolded from there.

I was filled with awe in those days, watching a plan unfold for me that was so clearly not my own. Something else came over me at that time as well.  It was a feeling of…maturity. Not because I was truly on my own, but because I was truly depending on and trusting  the love and guidance of my higher power.  I

This July 4^th as we celebrate our freedom and independence as a nation, I celebrate the fact that my personal freedom, the one that is not contingent on anything that exists in the changing world (money, belongings, even legal rights) comes from acknowledging how dependent and vulnerable I am. But with the love, guidance and power of God, I am made strong and capable, and have a freedom in my life truly worth celebrating.

Rev. Katherine Silvan

The thing that succeeds

I have a painted board in my kitchen above the cupboards that reads: "Love is patient, love is kind, love never fails." This is one part of the most oft quoted line in the Bible, a line that seems almost universally known. It shows up in wedding ceremonies from the most religious to the most secular. It comes from a passage in I Corinthians. I spent my high school years staring at a hand carved version of this famous passage--an enormous wooden plaque at the front of the chapel at the boarding school I attended. The chapel did not have any religious images. This passage, apparently, was not deemed religious.

It is interesting that it strikes such an interfaith note, that people from all backgrounds are drawn to it. There is no reference to God or Spirit or Jesus in the passage, simply Love, but this Love that is written about is quite different than your garden variety. You may love gummy bears and warm summer days and bubble baths and chocolate, but this Love distinguishes itself through some incredible qualities. The one I am thinking of tonight is contained in the words: "love never fails."

How amazing! Something that never fails. Something that never fails is something that always succeeds, no matter what. In my own life, there are a number of areas in which I strive and labor and work to succeed. In trying to succeed I often get tired or irritable or irritated or grow helpless. But Love does not fail, nor does it grow weary or bitter or angry.

Sometimes, with my children, I can try every kind of method to calm them down, to repair a crises or squelch a tantrum, without any success. Then, one word of love, genuinely spoken from my heart, changes everything. While we cannot, in our own strength and wisdom, succeed every time we do something, Love can, Love does, and Love will. Try for yourself, the next time you have a challenge or a conflict. Instead of using your head knowledge, your will or your wit, tap into the Love of the Universe. (Imagine the love of every person on the planet put together and combined. Imagine the power of all of that love and we might get a glimpse of this greater Love.) How do you do that? I don't always know. Pausing, breathing and remembering that Love never fails can help. Love can accomplish what needs to be done. Even a moment's meditation on such a powerful thought might be enough to open us up to allow the Love that knows no failure to move through us and work in us.
--Reverend Sam Wilde

Relationships Bring us Toward God

Love never dies and no relationship is a mistake.

Love changes form and all relationships serve us on our journey to learn to love. Before we mature in love, and learn to love without expectations, conditions, and demands on another human being we can come into severe conflicts in relationship. When we learn to have our own needs met in ways that go with the flow instead of against it, we can let other people be who they are and appreciate them for who they are. We take responsibility for our own emotions and perceptions and give others room to be themselves. If we need to remove

ourselves from a situation, we do that calmly without blaming the other person for our discomfort. Relationships help us get closer to God. 

We encounter over and over again that nobody can meet all of our needs. No one can be exactly who we want them to be. God helps us to come into our wholeness. God helps us feel loved and not alone when we are needing to be held in unconditional love. Over time relationships teach us, through rubbing us and scrubbing us clean of our childish demands. We become peaceful and appreciative of all of our relationships once we can see how each relationship has helped us grow, feel and experience what it like to be truly human. 

We love the people in our lives for all of who they are...their quirks and their wondrous qualities. We accept ourselves with our quirks and our wondrous qualities. We are comfortable inside our own skin and our love never dies and we are grateful for each of our unique relationships and how they have made us who we are.

--Reverend Supriya Hermenze

Seeing the Good (Weather)

This past week our area suffered from the effects of several tornadoes. While my town was not touched by the strong winds, many towns close by had immense damage. During the storm, I certainly knew what I wanted to pray for--my own safety, the safety of my children, the safety of all those around me, for, actually, good weather, the sort of beautiful, early summer day we enjoyed today.

Who makes the weather? In the aftermath of a storm, there is so much talk. Some talk about the "wrath of God." Some talk about global warming. Some talk about our crazy weather patterns, how we have changed the world, how we are now victims of a cruel Mother Nature.

I don't know. But in the past few days, I have been wanting to stay close to my original prayer, for the safety of myself, my children, all children and people everywhere that we may collectively SEE the good weather.

A few weeks ago, the world, at least according to one man, was meant to end. I do not find this sort of prophecy laughable, I find it historically intersting. People have thought, for the history of all human time, that the world would end on such a day--a Saturday, a day next week, in ten years, surely in their lifetime. I have also heard people say, on many occasions, that things in the world were getting "worse." And we hear that, of course, about the weather. The weather is getting worse.

Why are we all such doom-sayers? What is the appeal in that? For one thing, we could well be wrong. Yes, it is unusual to have a tornado in Massachusetts, but I learned we had one most recently in 1995--not so incredibly long ago. Is the world really in a worse place than it was ten years ago? Thirty years ago? Three hundred? I happen to think we have more peace now than ever before, more consciousness of kindness, more humanitarians, more hope, more spiritual thoughts and greater spiritual work. But ultimately, what I SEE is only a reflection of myself, my opinions, and my feelings about my own life.

I have had friends reflect to me a sense of doom about the world--while depressed. Those same friends, in a different state of mind, have such a sense of optimism about the globe.

I wonder if this can translate to our sense of the weather. Shall we just talk about the "terrible" state of Mother Nature? Or can we consciously, purposefully, actively and often SEE the good weather, anticipate a greater peace within nature, a harmonious relationship between humans and the earth we walk on? Let's not forget how powerful our thoughts are, how strongly they effect our lives, and let's not exclude even our thinking about weather, any more than we do our thinking about God, and the other great mysteries around us.

My husband said to me: "You could be picked up by a tornado and set down somewhere else without being hurt. It's the stuff--debris, pieces of car, futniture, house--inside the tornado that does the most damage."
What an interesing thought, that even a tornado could hold a sort of gentleness in the absence of our endless life accesories. Perhaps it's a useful metaphor as we go forward, to keep seeing the kindess in Mother Nature, and to keep clearing our own landscape of unnecessary and damaging thoughts so that we may accurately see the Good around us.

The Labor of Love

A few weeks ago, I was on my way to my weekly yoga class after dropping my 3 year old son off at school. It had been a particularly challenging morning: whining, demanding, testing. And I thought to myself: “Thank God I have yoga to retreat to and replenish myself with – without it, what would I do?”

Then a thought emerged as if on cue: Attachment is the root of all suffering. As I drove I contemplated the Buddhist teaching on suffering. I guess I am attached to yoga, to all kinds of things...my life, my husband, my son, all the people I love, my health, my job, my home, pretty much everything I own – and even the things I don’t like our beautiful cherry tree, and the perennials I’ve planted. And I'm certainly attached to my yoga, and especially my teacher Janice. She is the best, really the only one who does it right. Yes, I admitted, I see the attachment.

I arrived at class, ready to exhale my morning onto my mat and place my life and body trustingly in my teacher's hands to learn that she was announcing her retirement, and closing up shop, no one would be taking her classes. I laid my mat in the back corner and went to the bathroom heaving up a heavy sob.

I felt my attachment with full force, the ache in my heart, the love for my teacher, the trees I viewed from the windows, even the dull paint of the room where we practiced would be missed. How would I cope with parenting and life and stress without this weekly dose of quietude?

I felt raw for a week…or more, honestly - so deep was my attachment. It was useful for me to drag it out, feel self-pity, complain to friends, indulgent as it was. For, I could see that my spiritual maturity has much to do, still with outside circumstances. I can see how well I do with life when my attachments are intact and life flows as I predict.

This week my dear friend Rhei C. went through terribly long and agonizing labor. Hopeful for a home birth she was equipped with: birthing tub, meditation tapes, candles, coconut water, midwives, husband and me, all focused on this single goal. At the 48 hour mark, my astonishingly courageous and powerful friend made the call, time to let go of our expectations and attachments, I need the hospital, now. With the help of an epidural, she gave birth naturally to a perfect expression of love a few hours later, Chayton Theodore Bura.

When I think of how long she bared the pain, how hard it was to let go - truly let go, not the “look at me I’m letting go”-letting go, but the authentic release of your grip on life – I am filled with awe. The admission that the life span of this dream (relationship, car, job, tree, you fill in the blank) is complete. It is done. That most painful place of simultaneous arrival and departure is a rare space where God and life and love are born in us anew.

Thoreau wisely said it, “The soul grows by subtraction.”
And the subtraction is painful, especially when it means letting go of someone/something we really love. And I suppose, that is the spiritual labor of love - when its life span is complete and we must let go.

I give thanks to the spirit of all life, the formed and formless, that is constantly evoking the labor pains of growth, maturity, awareness. Through the endless series of attachments we are able to release, we get to experience the freedom that lies beyond them and a love that is unlike what we have ever known.
Rev. Katherine Silvan

Blinded by the Light

The other day while driving, I headed down a hill and directly into the light of the sun. It was so bright and so direct that for a few seconds I could not see anything else except the light. It glowed yellow and swallowed up everything else in my vision so that I could only view the brightness.

This is no good for driving, of course, but it is the truth as I understand it of Divine Love. This Love, Agape, is a light. When we truly look at it, receive it, and our connected to it, there is nothing else. These momets of total awareness of the Divine Love Light may be few, but they are powerful, and they teach us that God, or Divine Love, is not an extra component to our life or in this world, not a small piece of things, but the total view, the complete experience. In truth, there is nothing but God's Light and Love. What a joy that occasionally we may become blinded by it, so that all the petty concerns, the silly details, the doubts and the fears, are blocked out entirely.

May the bright light of Love shine for you today. In all kinds of weather, rain and cloud and thunder, may you find you can turn your face to the Sun of God and be encompassed by the healing power of goodness. I see that for you today, and for me, we will be bathed in the radiant warmth of Agape.

--Rev. Sam Wilde

I Will Always Love You

I had an awesome experience this weekend dancing with those I love who have died. This was a workshop at Kripalu called I Will All Ways Love You. I was moved by the uplifting energy coming from remembering the love and the particular energies of people who inspired me and are part of me as they touched my life deeply. Their spirits never die. They are waiting to be communicated with. I felt their love and their wisdom reminding me to love as deeply as I can while I am living and enjoy my precious life. I would love to inspire you, Agape readers, to take some time and communicate with those you love who may not be here in their physical form.

You can create an altar with their photo on it and write to the person, ask for insight. You could dance, sing, play music, meditate, pray or simply sit and listen as you focus on the person. Souls gone by want to be of support and are waiting patiently to share their love, protection and wisdom with us.

May this season of rebirth open us to love deeply and to learn to open our perception...

Love,
Rev. Supriya Swerdlick Hermenze

Being Adult

That's what we're all about, right?? Maturation, accepting adult responsibility,taking care of business...how many of us are in the business, in some form of helping ourselves,our children,our spouses and others we meet to step up to the plate, to make the most of ourselves...sounds good, right?? Well, there are times when I really don't want to do any of that, where I resent having to be an adult, I resent the unending burdens, obligations and responsibilities that life brings...I complain "when can I go to the beach?" I do have to admit that I gave up complaining for Lent, which was an amazing experience of clearing out jammed up stuff. But just to be clear, it will be a long time before I am nominated for sainthood.
It is in this spirit of juggling,which most of us are mastering as the art of getting through the day, that I feel moved to share the following story which appeared one day on my Day-at-a-Time Little Zen Calendar. It is not attributed to any one in particular, and is simply called Zen Story. If I were a truly responsible adult, I would know exactly which day it was, but all I know is that it appeared some time in April 2011.I'm sharing it because I laughed right out loud when I read it, appreciating the deep humanity in it for all of us.I thought it was particularly poignant because of the Lenten season, Easter and Passover, which are almost completely behind us, and which require both a LOT of deep (physical,emotionaland spiritual) housecleaning, and which call us to rise up out of our deadening old ruts, to be freed from the small, tight places that cramp and enslave us.
"A man seeking help went to see the Buddha. He told him he was a farmer. "I like farming," the man said, "but sometimes it doesn't rain enough, and sometimes it rains too much. One year we nearly starved." The Buddha listened.
"I like my wife," the man said, "but sometimes she nags too much, then I get tired of her...We have kids too. Good kids, but sometimes they don't show enough respect, and..." the man went on like this.
After the man finished, the Buddha sat, thought, then said, "I'm sorry, I can't help you."
"What? Why not?" said the man, astonished. The Buddha went on to explain that everyone has problems. In fact, he said, we all have eighty-three problems, and he enumerated them, from birth to death, but as he talked the man grew more and more furious until he questioned the very premise of the Buddha's teaching.
"Well," the Buddha finally said, "I may be able to help you with the eighty-fourth problem."
"The eighty-fourth problem? What's that?"
"The problem of wanting to not have any problems."

Personally, I am beginning to think that certain kinds of problems are around to plague us just for the entertainment value,to prevent boredom and allow intellectual stimulation. The responsible ones say our problems are growing edges, so we can rise above our limitations and be more fully ourselves...but we know about those responsible ones, don't we...and where's the beach? Rev.Susan

The Easter Season

Easter is my favorite holiday in the Christian year. For me, it is one of the most accesible and relevant celebrations; I see it in the new flowers of spring, in the buds on the trees, in the expressions of joyful expectancy on my children's faces as they search for hidden eggs.

Describing it, however, is another matter. "Well," I tell my four year-old. "After Jesus died, he rose from the dead...."

It's just this line that finds many spiritual people not wanting to be religious--and not just from confusion! Allow me to offer one interesting interpretation of the Easter message.

Yesterday, my husband made bread. He woke early and kneaded the dough for ten minutes. We left the house for a few hours for church and he placed the dough in warm (but not on) oven, to rise. When we returned home, he went to check on the dough while I played outside with the children.

"Kids!" he cried happily from the kitchen. "Come see this! The dough has risen!"

Well, it had risen indeed. The enormous bowl was bulging with a massive round of dough, twice the size it had been when he placed it there a few hours before. Whereas the initial bit of dough could have fed ten people, this dough could feed thirty. The effects of the dough rising were expansive, abundant, evident, and exciting.

What is this thing that rises from the dead, not merely a person from a story that some of us do not believe in, and others of us do not understand, but the spirit of that dough overflowing?

For me, it is love. Love rises. You may begin with a small handful and come to find that with care it has grown to many times its size. This is the message of Easter, the gift of the Easter season, and to me also, the heart of the Christian path. Love cannot be killed; it cannot be kept in a tomb or a grave or locked down. It does not diminsh itself or anything around it. If kindness can feed ten people, Love can feed a hundred. It is the principle of abundance, a law of multiplication that ensures Love always wins, always prospers, always rises up. How wonderful when we get a chance to be amazed by it, as my children were yesterday, looking into the bowl to see the truth of our lives present before us: love grows. It grows because it is love and it simply cannot do anything else! --Rev. Sam Wilde

Life in the Moment is Sublime; let's not miss the point.

As a spiritual counselor for hospice patients, I never know what I will encounter when entering a new patient’s room. In the case of Jane, as she began talking, I immediately asked permission to take some notes, (something I had never done prior) and quickly grabbed a pen from my bag.

Though she could not even open her eyes, she spoke in haiku as if I had come for the purpose of receiving a teaching. These are the words as she spoke them, “As the Cancer grows, the fear gets less, because my love grows. Love of everything: birds, water, children, light. Just take a walk outside, in the fall, you’ll see. Life in the moment is sublime, this is the point we miss.”

Being with the dying is a rare opportunity. It paradoxically offers the invitation to truly live – and to live rightly; to fully embrace the presence of heart and mind to love everything: the birds, water, children and light. And, simultaneously to let go of what stands in the way of our being present for life - to let go of what keeps us small and fearful. For me some of these include short-sightedness, judgment, fatigue, the “not good enough” story, or “don’t have time.”

Jane passed away three days after I received this teaching from her. Near death, not fully alert and releasing her grasp on all she loved in the world, she uttered an arresting invitation - one that life is continually offering each of us: to pass through the flames of fear, doubt, resignation into the rising phoenix of awareness and unbounded love. Steven Levine puts it in this question: “How soon will we accept this opportunity to be fully alive before we die?”

May the coming of spring bring us each to the awareness that “Life in the moment is sublime.”
Let’s not miss the point.

Rev. Katherine Silvan

What's the big deal, anyway?

I like to joke, on frustrating, maddening, difficult days, that I'm lucky I have got religion. As a favorite gospel song of mine says, "I've got good religion and I'm not afraid!"

Unfortunately, what most people in our modern world are afraid of IS religion. What's surprised me recently is learning how many people are also wary of the word spiritual. Yet, spirituality is an inescapable fact of our existence. Spirituality is the way we make meaning out of our lives. For that matter, religion is too. It's not that most of us lack religion or spirituality, it's that we don't think of our perceptions that way, but truth be told, most of us DO follow a religion. It may be as simple as "Don't leave home without eating breakfast," or as complicated as "God doesn't exist." Whatever the belief may be, we cling to it. We may even fight for it; we certainly think we are right about it.

This is, probably, the human condition, this clinging and supporting of a belief system. So why not choose a life-giving, harmonious, peace-enhancing belief? Since we've been blessed with the ability to choose, why not choose a "religion," or a spirituality that serves the good?

As I studied recently about the Love of God, or more accurately the Love that is God--the God that is Love--I had a moment of anxiety. What if I'm wrong? I thought to myself. What if God isn't really love? What if all those humanists are right and I am wrong?

My conclusion: I don't care if I'm wrong! The religion I practice, the spirituality that I strive to live, creates harmony in my life in true, tangible, practical, real-time ways. I'm not sitting around hoping that heaven is better than this challenging place called earth, I am actively finding that focusing my thoughts and learning about Divine Love brings healing, hope, power and strength to me IN THIS MOMENT.

I may well be wrong, but believing improves my life. I hope my belief improves the lives of all those around me. And when I'm as grumpy, cranky and irritated as I am on a day like today (snow on my crocuses! baby up all night crying! no time for myself! a misunderstanding with friends!), I'm grateful I've got "good religion." If I couldn't make a postive, life-giving meaning from this mess, well, I'd be stuck in it! But the faith in something greater pulls me up out of the muck and mire, like the first flowers of spring press through the cold, hard, stony ground, to great the warmth, compassion and kindness of the sun!

Nothing Clever

How many of us think of ourselves as nothing special, just a basic person.We read books, take classes, exercise and diet (maybe), all in the attempt to be better. So much of that attempt is really about DOING better, which definitely counts for something in this world. BEING better...a better being...that's a whole other story. So many of us,(myself included, at least from time to time), bemoan the fact that we are't perfect. We don't DO perfect, but do we BE perfect? Can I, or any of us, REALLY see ourselves as we really are, as God sees us, without jugement and interpretation, without history and biases, without other peoples' projections and expectations? What if perfect means what the dictionary says it means, i.e. complete, no missing parts? What if complete is what I am in my soul, right now? If I - or any of us- believed that, that we don't have to be clever, smart, pretty, or anything in particular, other than what we are right now, life might be a different place.I don't have to "do" perfect, clever or anything else. All I need to do to have a full life is : pay attention, listen, be fully present, and know that my core essential being is complete in every moment.Other people have said all that, of course. I want to live it; it's both simple and hard, but it could make all the difference...Rev. Susan

Get a Handle On It!

Years ago while travelling India, I remarked on the way Indian women swept their storefronts, front stoops or walkways, using small hand-held brooms; you know, the kind you find in Ye Old Amish Homestead. Delicately wrapped in colorful silk saris, the Indian women would hunch themselves in half and sweep large areas with these short handled brooms. It looked excruciating to me and I thought, “Get a handle on it!” It seemed like an obvious and helpful solution. Why break your back?

This image has come back to me several times in my life as a fitting metaphor for how I often find myself struggling with an antiquated pattern, behavior or method to clean up the messes in my life – how I unnecessarily break my back rather than do a simple thing: ask for help.

Today was one of the worst I’ve had in a long list. A restless rodent scratching in the wall of one of our closets kept me up all night long. Today, after paying the exterminator 200 bucks, I was licking my chops at the thought of a much needed night of quiet ahead, and what to my utterly dismayed ears I hear? - the same infuriating noise coming from behind the three holes he drilled in the wall.

Next: after picking my car up from the service station yesterday, it broke down on the way to work this morning, making me late for an important meeting. After paying the service station another 250, the car broke down again on my way home from dinner with a friend. This, while my husband is reading novels in the warm California sun – a trip I insisted he take to get some much needed R&R, ha! There’s more to my sad, sad list but you get the idea.

After gritting my teeth, pounding my fists and suffering with a recurrent stomach pain, I thought, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I get a handle on it? This is all the “small stuff” the stuff you’re not supposed to sweat. It took me all day to remember to ask for some help, to truly get a handle on my foul mood. I paused just long enough to say two simple words, “Help, please.”

I didn’t address it specifically - in case “God” isn’t available, I want to leave it open to: “Goddess”, “Ganesh” “Gratefulness” or “Giant Maple Spirit.” It’s not that I’m so utterly uncommitted; it’s just that what matters to me now, is making the admission that I do in fact need help. I need a handle on this dinky little broom I’m trying to sweep Arizona with. I need to stand upright and keep going, not break my back with old habits of martyrdom and negativity.

“Help please” means that I remember I am not alone – somehow... and I’m not choosy about how either. Bring it on! I’ll take that help from every benevolent direction it can possibly come.

What’s triumphant for me is to reach that place where I realize I am holding a short-handled broom; the very brief moment it takes to become aware that there is another way. And to remember that when my reserves run dry, I can seek replenishment at the source. Suddenly, there is room to breathe and the “small stuff” that felt so laden and big right sizes itself and I get a better handle on it. by Rev. Katherine Silvan

“Lord have mercy on me, so I may have mercy on myself.” Rob Silvan

Love Only Wants to Shine

The other day I sat to meditate on these words, “Love God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” (Mark 12:30) and became overwhelmed… Grateful… not everyone gets to feel this. I don’t always, or even often, get to feel it… but there it was… growing… bringing tears to my eyes, bathing me in comfort, joy, gratitude, peace, love, from the depths of my spirit to the fullness of my heart.
I was at once receiving and accepting this Love while also generating and radiating it back to God and to the whole world from my entire being (and beyond).
What made me open in that very moment I do not know? It lasted only minutes but I learned (or was reminded) so much about love. I felt the quality of grace unmerited, undeserved, unearned both as heir and source. I am so deeply flawed but I felt that love as perfectly, completely, deeply and without question of whether I deserved it. And for those moments I felt this also for all people, without judgment, without expectation, without comparison.
I can’t make myself feel it now, but I can remember that it exists, not just within me but in everything and everyone… I can try to express love without the expectation of reward (now or in another life), without the concealed intention that if I love God enough, or in the right way, God will favor me, reward me, make my problems go away…I can let the faint light of that love that remains be expressed without anticipation of being loved back and with no fear of what others might think…like the warmth of the sun of course it only wants to shine.
-Reverend Lisa McMillan

Opening up our hearts in challenging relationships

Remembering that human beings are either being loving or asking to be loved, is a simple way of connecting over and over again with LOVE.
When a person is being hurtful that person is surely in personal pain, either conscious or unconscious. Compassion is ultimately a loving response to suffering.

That does not mean that we may not have many human feelings in a challenging relationship, including anger, sadness, distrust, rage.....These feelings are our own and hopefully, we can release them in a safe way both energetically and through talking to a trusted friend or counselor. However, to be truly free, a return to love and understanding is key. This does not mean a return to a relationship which continues
the hurt. Space, boundaries and a letting go of the painful dynamics are important to achieve.

Movement toward learning, growing, maturing, understanding and opening of our hearts in compassion allows us to come home to our peace, love and to our True Nature. We need all of our life’s experiences to help us open our hearts.

Being grateful for our challenges as well as our joys, understanding that Spirit lies in all that is.....beyond polarities.

With all love and respect,

Rev. Supriya Swerdlick Hermenze

Imperfect

I had a friend describe to me the other day why her husband won’t enter a church. Though it was a brief conversation, she conveyed to me a sentiment I have heard many times before: church and religion have done awful things. I don’t want to be a part of that.

I will be the first one to admit that, in the name of religion, and by people who profess a faith in God, atrocities have been committed. The human person is capable of terrible actions and no denomination, faith, church or organization of any kind is immune. Because every denomination, faith, church and organization is made up of people. And people are profoundly imperfect.

Of course people do awful things in the name of politics, love, education and advancement, as well as religion. But we expect more from our religious organizations—and we should. Which is why I can also say with some certainty that much good has come out of church and religion, and in many cases much more good than has come out of politics or education, for example.

Imperfect human beings make up the church. Is that reason enough to throw out the baby with the bathwater?

The Dalai Lama said: “My religion is kindness.” This is such a wonderful teaching. It also helps to articulate a deeper, broader truth. If, according to the Dalai Lama, religion is kindness, when something goes wrong, when a person isn’t kind, would we say kindness has failed? Or would we say the person or people involved have failed to be kind?
So it is with the God of my understanding. My religion is Love. When things appear unloving, this does not mean Love has failed, any more than we would blame kindness when a person shows us unkindness. (We would, of course, find fault with the person or the situation but I’ve yet to hear someone blame kindness itself.)

I don’t care whether people go to church; really, it’s none of my business. But I do hope that people come to know Love, Divine Love, because, I believe, doing so is life’s purpose, as well as life’s reward, and the very thing that makes life worth living. In that way, if someone comes in the doors of a religious organization or stays away matters little. But that the person comes to know kindness, comes to know love, matters much.

Too often, in our humanly imperfection, we might say, “My religion is religion.” Instead, let’s keep our eyes on the Source itself, the Origin of all religious seeking, inquiry, longing, education, and organization, God, or Love, itself. Therein we find healing and the true perfection we seek.

Endurance

After two exhausting days where my spirit, body, and ability to remain kind felt taxed beyond my limits, I opened the Bible to the Letter from James--not a letter I have read very often. My eyes fell immediately to this passage:
Consider yourself fortunate when all kinds of trials come your way, for you know that when your faith succeeds in facing such trials, the result is your ability to endure (James 1.2-3, Good News Bible).

I couldn't have needed to hear a message more, and I felt comforted by the thought that my challenges would lead to an expansion within. The passage also directed me to a place of gratitude. Consider yourself fortunate... How often do we feel fortunate when life isn't going our way? Maybe never. I began to pull myself out of my slump by summoning up some gratitude.

I also, on re-reading the passage noted that it is not ME who is overcoming my own woes and hardships, but my FAITH. It is my faith that succeeds in facing the hard times, rather than me as a person, a personality, a limited being who needs more sleep at night or more money or more time (whatever it may be). And faith is something that we grow, day by day, over time. Perhaps, like endurance, it comes as the gift of moving through the rough days with the willingness to--in each breath or with the newly risen sun--try again. Our faith is our ability to believe in the good, sometimes despite all evidence to the contrary, to believe in the God we may occasionally doubt, to believe in the Love we imagine we could run out of--but never do. And the reward, at the end of all this faithful believing, is that blessing of endurance out of which grows a greater spirit, and a stronger heart.

In the lap of the Buddha

Years ago I heard the expression, "place your head on the lap of the Buddha." I love this comforting, nurturing thought, picturing myself with my head in Buddha's lap and a gentle, motherly hand, stroking my hair away from my face. And while words, and the internet, can be helpful and useful, nothing can compare with putting oneself--through imagination and prayer--into this place of being held. I invite you to take a breath or two in the quiet and place yourself gently into the lap of the Buddha, eyes closed and heart open, to be cared for, cherished, and loved.
--Rev. Sam Wilde