Listening in Tongues

I recently had a conversation with a couple of dear F/friends about how Quakers name
our higher power and how we hear and understand one another. Some of us use
language that mirrors our Christian beginnings with Jesus, Christ, God, etc. Some of us
are uncomfortable with those names. Some of us use Goddess. Others are
uncomfortable with that. Still others try to use words that might be less offensive to all,
like Divine, Spirit, All that is, etc. As we come together in worship sharing, spiritual
formation, and other gatherings it is not uncommon to hear the admonition to “Listen in
tongues.” meaning that we may translate another’s word(s) to align with for our own
understanding and comfort. For quite some time I was all too happy to grab on to this
seemingly easy solution. Until this conversation.

I was recently at a weekend retreat at a Roman Catholic abbey with a group of Quakers.
Many of those Friends reacted with great discomfort to being in the presence of
traditional Christian paintings and statues. Some thought we should cover these items
or take them down until we were leaving. My sense was that we need not embrace these
things as our own, but that in our attempt to be understanding and open to how others
believe; to how they understand their faith, we might open our hearts and minds to
acknowledge a different way and that different ways of understanding our relationships
with God are integral to our human experience. I remembered this as my friends and I
talked. They lifted up this same sense in relation to language. Each of us has a different
relationship to Spirit of necessity as we are all different. I wonder if, in this effort to
translate the way others speak of God into language that we are comfortable with we
don’t risk losing the ability to truly hear the speaker. I wonder if in some way we don’t
dishonor the speaker or even perhaps unintentionally elevate our own understanding
over theirs. It can be uncomfortable and challenging to listen deeply and to hear the
speaker no matter what words they choose to use. In my experience, being challenged
and made uncomfortable is often at the cutting edge of spiritual growth.

I am often surprised by how much is opened for me in this sort of brief exchange when I
open to truly listening and hearing. I am continuing to hold this new opening. I invite
you to join me.

Am I enough?

 

I don’t know about you, but I ask myself this question often.  It happens in almost every aspect of my life: from caring for my grandkids, to grocery shopping, to committee work, to sitting on a Board, to sitting in worship.

 The next step is interrogating myself: Enough for what?  What variety of enough?  Smart enough?  Fast enough?  Loving enough?  Caring enough?  And who gets to say if I’m enough?   And then, perhaps the biggest of them all – Why am I questioning if I am enough?  That too is layered.  Does everyone ask this of themselves?  Does it come from my childhood?  From a lack of affirmation?  Does it come from striving to be authentic in the world?  Finally, there comes an answer.

 I am enough. I acknowledge that each and every one of God’s children, with all of our variations – all that makes us different and yes, all the things that make us the same – each and every one of us, is enough.  Each and every one of us, no matter what we may seem outwardly, is the same inwardly, where Spirit resides.    When I hold my belief, Friends belief, that we each have that of God within I understand it to be the great equalizer.  It is the starting point in coming to know another human being, no matter our differences, no matter what that person has done.  When the first thing I see when I meet another is the Light that they carry within I know that we are the same and I know that no matter our differences, we are each enough.

Violence

 

Violence 

What is violence?   As a young person – probably into my teens, when I thought of violence it was always an act of physical violence.  Someone hit someone else.  It could be a slap a kick, a punch, or something far more egregious.   That was the extent of my understanding of violence.

 As I grew older, and possibly a bit wiser, I opened to the understanding of deeper forms of pain; different kinds of violence.  The pain of being scarred emotionally or psychologically can be far more challenging to heal.  Friends of a certain generation will remember the saying “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.”  Most of us have come to know that our bones almost always heal, but the pain inflicted on our psyches lingers and lingers.   We can probably all think of instances when that type of pain was inflicted on us and conversely, when we may have inflicted that type of pain on someone else, sometimes in anger, sometimes out of malice, other times in ignorance.  Whatever the reason that scar remains with us.  Perhaps it really isn’t so very different from the lifelong limp from a broken leg or the ache in a broken bone when it rains.  All reminders of the pain we have endured. 

There can be great sorrow here.  There can also be great hope as we open our hearts to accept Spirit’s healing Love and, as we are healed we find that we are able to open our hearts to whoever perpetrated pain of any kind and harmed us.  When we are able to offer forgiveness to others, we find freedom within ourselves

Hornet Story

 

Some years ago, I was enjoying worship in an old meeting house that didn’t have air conditioning.  It was a hot summer day and so the windows were all open.  I chose to sit in front of a window to feel the sun beat on my back.  It felt glorious.  I closed my eyes and slipped deep into worship.  At some point I became aware of an insect walking on my arm.  Eyes still closed, I pondered what it might be.  It wasn’t a fly or any insect that I could easily identify, so I peeked and saw a black hornet.  I watched him for a moment, closed my eyes and continued in worship.  The hornet flew away several minutes later.   So, you say, why are you now sharing this story?

 I’m sharing this story because I learned something that day.  I learned something about fear and how it feeds conflict.  I learned something about trust and faith.  And I learned that the way that I behave can influence the way other people behave.  That probably feels like a lot of weight to give a hornet walking on my arm so allow me to explain.

 In a different place, and a different setting, I might have reacted to finding a hornet on my arm from a place of fear.  I might have swung something at it thinking to harm it.  I might have attempted to swat it off.  Those actions, based in fear, might well have awakened fear in the hornet and caused it to bite me.  The other path, the one that I chose that morning, gave us both the grace to simply greet one another and continue on with our days.  I trusted that this small creature meant me no ill will.  He was simply walking up something that was in his path.  I had faith that if I were able to embrace his presence, he would do me no harm.

 I later learned that more than one person in the room was watching the hornet’s progress as he walked up my arm.  I also learned that they were each trying to decide what to do.  Among the options was to strike the hornet.  When they saw me open my eyes, observe the hornet, and return to worship, those Friends relaxed and they too returned to worship.

Since my encounter with that hornet, there have been many times when letting go of fear and opening to trust and faith have changed a potentially negative outcome to one where hope and grace abide.  I am grateful for the lesson Black Hornet brought me.