26. People Watching

'People Watching' is a common past-time. We do it almost unconsciously as we notice the way people are dressed or the way they walk or talk or by their facial expression. We may even try and guess their occupation and create stories about the way they are feeling.

The Zen Master Okada would watch his students and put them into one of three groups. The first group were very attentive and asked endless questions. They were head-centred people who valued information. They tended to quote and imitate other people's wisdom and lifestyles rather than learning to be imaginative and creative for themselves.

The second group he called chest-centred people. They valued their physical body and loved to develop their strength and flexibility. They were also people of courage and had great self-control and determination. As the chest also contains the heart, they were often very devoted students. On the other hand, they could become self-centred and opinionated. If pushed or corrected, they might respond quickly and even aggressively. This contradiction was not unusual. When we look back over the history of religious traditions with a strong devotional emphasis, they often responded aggressively when their beliefs or authority were challenged.

The third group of students had learnt to dwell within their belly-centre or Hara. They were a joy to work with because they knew how to "build a stronghold where the divine can grow".(1)

Learning to be at home in each of these three centres is part of our journey towards personal and spiritual growth. I wonder which of Okada's three categories best describes you? Are you primarily a head person, a heart person, or a belly-centred person? How does this insight affect your beliefs and spiritual practice?

I know I am inclined to be a 'head-centred' person. I love to read and explore new ideas and spiritual practices.I quickly become bored and skimp the time and effort needed to acquire the depth and proficiency for a meaningful spiritual practice. This is my growing edge.

For this reason, I deliberately exercise my heart-centre by setting aside time to enjoy the 'sounds of silence', with candle-light and incense, or going for walks along the beach. I value the time I spend enjoying the company of someone I love. I find all these experiences enrich the atmosphere for prayer. I also know the real work for any spiritual practice is learning to develop my belly-centre. This is the 'ground of our being' and the centre of our soul. That is why the Sufi's call the belly-centre the 'Organ of Touch'. It is here in the depths of our being we learn to sense the essential presence of the One who created us and 'in whom we live and move and have our being'.

One simple way I find that helps me engage my 'belly-centre', is to choose a quiet place where I will not be disturbed. It can be outdoors or in my room. Once I am settled, to take a few breaths and consciously relax my body and mind. I then focus my attention on the sensation of my breathing as I gently use my abdominal muscles to draw the air into my body. And I relax the muscles as I slowly breathe out. After a while, I begin to breathe a single word or a short sentence on each out-breath, one that expresses my desire to know God better. And as I breathe that word, I let it become my heartfelt intention to the One who has created me and in whose presence I am resting.

Kia mau te rongo me te pai ki a koe i to haerenga
May you find peace and good will on your journey.

Phil

(1) Garrie, Roshi John, The Way is without Flaw: The Teachings of John Garrie Roshi, UK: Sati Press, 1998, p 73.

25. Fact or Mystery?

How do you understand the Resurrection of Jesus? Most Christians would see it as something very central to their faith – something they celebrate every Sunday – or is it?

I grew up in a time when everything was closed on Sundays except for Churches. You might find a dairy open to buy milk, but little else was open. How our world and lives have changed! I suspect people's attitude towards the Resurrection of Jesus has also changed because they no longer believe the way they used to. In a way, I don't blame them. Perhaps our traditional interpretation of Jesus' Resurrection is part of the reason.

I grew up believing the resurrection of Jesus was a historical fact. It is in the Bible, and I was taught the Bible was the Word of God and was without error. Since those days, a lot of research has explored the background of the Gospel accounts of Jesus' life and teachings. Now we know that the Gospels weren't written as eye-witness accounts. They didn't have video recorders or cell-phones to record the actual deeds and words of Jesus. Instead, various Christian communities recalled and retold, explained and interpreted the life and teachings of Jesus. No doubt they enriched the stories with their own interpretations and illustrations because there were no written accounts at that stage. In this way, the communal memory of Jesus' life and teachings gradually took shape. This included the Resurrection stories in our four Biblical Gospels. While the Resurrection of Jesus will always remain a mystery because it lies outside our experience, I find it helpful to treat it as a parable. Treating it this way opens the story to fresh inquiry and insight.

My first reason is that Jesus often spoke in parables. They were ways he helped people to grasp spiritual truths by engaging their imagination. His parables were often short, vivid, inspirational and memorable word pictures, that would have meaning for the hearer. They could take them away to mull over them and draw new insight. They were conversation starters, and Jesus was good at telling them. In a way, each one was like a drop of yeast which has the power to transform a bowl of flour, causing it to rise into mouthwatering and life-sustaining bread. Jesus would then send the people away to give time for his word-picture to do its work and transform their lives with new insight and meaning.

The Resurrection story can be treated similarly. When I read it as a parable, I am reminded of a comment the French Philosopher, Gabriel Marcel, once made. He said we live in a world that is riddled with problems but on the other-hand allows no room for mystery. A problem is a question for me to try and solve, whereas a mystery questions 'who am I?' and cannot be answered in the same way. We have to learn to give mystery time and space to work within us as it slowly transforms our lives into the answer. He referred to this process as an intuitive grasp of experiential insight that our rational mind can never fully grasp or express.

Both Jesus' parables and the Resurrection story invite us to contemplate the mystery of our becoming. While the Resurrection story has many answers, at its centre, it reminds me that death is both an ending and a new beginning – and the reason why? Because in God, we are always in the process of new becomings: old things pass away to allow new possibilities to arise!

So, what new growth and unfolding do you sense happening in your life?

Is it helpful for you to sense God's presence is at work in this area of your life?

Kia mau te rongo me te pai ki a koe i to haerenga

May you find peace and goodwill on your journey.

Phil.

__________

Gabriel (-Honore) Marcel, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/marcel/

24. Lost & Found

Recently I was reflecting on the story of how his parents thought they had lost the boy Jesus. They eventually found him in the Temple patiently waiting for them to turn up. I imagine most parents would relate to the story. I am sure we all have experienced a child disappearing only later to turn up happy and unaware of the concern they have caused.

Many years ago we were exploring a walking track in the foothills of the Southern Alps. It slowly wove its way through some pretty forest and ferns along the banks of a fast-flowing river. Then forked towards the mountain above, or to the waterfall ahead. Suddenly, as we rounded a bend, our four-year-old son, who had been happily trotting ahead, wasn't there! We called out and searched in vain. Finally, with heavy hearts, we headed back to the car to seek help. When we reach the car, there was our son waiting for us. He had taken a short loop track that came out behind us, not seeing us he thought he would go back to the car and wait for us.

My story is one that has two different perspectives as to who was lost. In fact, no one was. We see a similar event in the Gospel story above. How we read it will affect the way we understand it. Some, for example, may take it as a historical occurrence. Others may see it as a parable – as we have other Gospel stories of people or things that were lost and found again (See Luke 14:34-15:32).

This particular story is set in the context of a journey. The parents discover Jesus is not with them. They search for him, turning to fellow travellers and companions for help and after three days of searching they find him in the Temple teaching. Those who listened to him were amazed.

We are all on a journey through life. I wonder what we have lost along the way? The name Jesus is associated with the word 'Christ' meaning the anointed one. Have we ever felt a loss of faith or our sense of the 'anointing' of the Divine presence? Who do we turn to for our inspiration and support? Whose wisdom do we value?

Mary and Joseph searched for 3 days. The number three occurs in many places in the Hebrew and Christian scriptures usually providing emphasis or a clue that more is happening than meets the eye.

They found Jesus in the Temple. St Paul suggested we are the Temple of God's presence (1 Corinthians 6:19). Do you, do I, always have eyes to see God's presence in and around us?

Once upon a time, three people sat by the seashore and watched the sunset. The first person was soon captivated by the colours the sunlight painted upon the clouds and sea and the way the sea-birds floated silently across the evening sky. He was also intrigued by how the sun grew in size as it slowly slid over the horizon. When he felt the chill of early evening, he was glad to stand up, stretch his legs, and go home.

The second person was also captivated by the sunset. He wondered why people say 'the sun sets' rather than' the earth turns'. He was also intrigued by the way the sun seemed to grow in size – even though he knew it was an illusion. Cupping his hand into a fist, he looked through the small hole he had made and watched the sun immediately shrink back in size. This so fascinated him, he remained sitting at the beach long after the sun had set, pondering why this was so.

The third person was likewise captivated by the sunset, but for quite a different reason. He briefly enjoyed everything the other two had noticed before being absorbed by the beauty, mystery and spaciousness of the sea, sky and sun. Long after the other two had left, he remained lost in awe and wonder at the beauty of God's creation.

Sometimes what we are looking for is not lost – it is there in front of us all the time.

Kia mau te rongo me te pai ki a koe i to haerenga
May you find peace and goodwill on your journey.

Phil.

23. We Become What We Love

We become what we Love

and who we love
shapes what we become.
St Clare of Assisi

When I first heard about St Francis in my early 20s there was an instant appeal. He was passionate, radical and courageous; a man of faith, willing to put his life on the line for what he believed. He had a strong sense of mission and a reckless disregard for what others might think of him. He was able to let go of everything to follow his dream of imitating Jesus – and yet a practical person who begged for rocks to rebuild churches. When his father wanted his wealth returned, Francis, with naive innocence, gave him everything he had – even the clothes he was wearing! It was this ability to live life with open hands and heart that continues to appeal to people and in this way continues to 'shape what we become'.

St Clare of Assisi, on the other hand, made a much later entry into my life. At first, I felt a deep sense of pathos for her. She deeply loved Francis, but because their friendship would cause gossip, they lived apart and rarely met, yet neither were far from each other's mind or heart. And while Francis, with his energy and passion, lived the active life of mission and was always on the move, Clare, on the other hand, lived a hidden life of prayer in a convent. Yet, together, they offer us a similar passion to radically live the Gospel.

Clare, in a way, became Francis' Yin who dwelt in the shadows, while he was her Yang who danced in the sun. They both needed and desired each other, causing their love to shape their lives, and allowing their witness to bloom into a creative mission.

The Jungian analyst and author, Robert Johnson, alluded to this spiritual capacity within the lives of both men and women. He suggested it enables us to go into our own still centre every time something profound happens to us. He said it is a very creative act that requires us to be receptive but not passive.

Two lovely legends illustrate this ability their love they had for each other; and their capacity to dwell within their own still centre. The first is about Francis who was travelling with Br Leo, late one night on foot. Tired, they arrived at a well. Francis leaned over and looked into the clear water for a long time. When he came to himself, he cheerfully said to Brother Leo, “Brother Leo, lamb of God, what do you think I saw in the clear waters of the fountain?” Br Leo suggested he was looking at the moonlight that was reflected upon the water. Francis replied, “No, brother, I did not see the moon, but the face of our sister Clare, so full of holy joy, that all my weariness disappeared”.

The second story is about Clare, and occurred one midwinter evening when Francis called at the Convent to inquire whether the Sisters had all they needed? As Francis left, Clare followed him. Francis stopped and turned around. Then gently told Clare it was best they not meet because gossip would soon ruin the good their communities were doing. Clare felt sad and lost. “What will I do without you?” she asked Francis. “You are my guide and support! Will we never meet again?” Francis pointed to a bare rose bush and promised, “We will meet again when the roses bloom”. Then as he turned away, Francis noticed the rose bush that had been covered in snow, was suddenly in full bloom. Clare, smiling and content, gathered the roses for their chapel as Francis disappeared into the night.

A biographer noted that they were never separated again because they never left each other's heart. In this way, they were able to join their mutual love, and their love of Christ, with their love of the poor, so it became one great love.

Who, or what do you love? Who shapes your becoming?

Kia mau te rongo me te pai ki a koe i to haerenga
May you find peace and goodwill on your journey.

Phil

________________

 Johnson, R, She: Understanding Feminine Psychology, Harper Perennial; Revised edition (March 24, 2020)

 Johnson, R, He: Understanding Masculine Psychology, Harper & Row; Revised edition edition (1 Feb. 1991)

22. Does God Ski?

July is a month of rain and chill for us in the Southern hemisphere. From our gate I see Mount Taranaki standing resplendent, covered in a thick blanket of snow, reminding me of years gone by when I first learnt to ski.

I was in my early 30s when given oversight of a country Parish near New Zealand's Mt Hutt Ski-field. One weekend a close friend of mine came to stay and invited me to go with him for a days skiing. I had never been on skis before and viewed the sport with some disregard, with similar thoughts to that of the American humorist, Henry Beard:

Skiing is the art of catching cold and going broke
while rapidly heading nowhere at great personal risk,
and where every turn is a leap of faith.

Reluctantly, I went. And while my fledgeling efforts were embarrassing, I was captivated by the scenery. The beauty of the snow-covered mountains above and the plains that reach towards the distant coastline below was stunning. I was converted to skiing that day, and a few weeks later, I had my own ski gear and a season's ticket.

Then one day I adventured onto the steep northern slope. By the time I realised it was beyond my skill level, there was nowhere to turn around. The only choice was to try skiing the icy slope and hope for the best. The next five minutes were so exhilarating, I went straight back up and skied it again and again. It was one of the most memorable days of my life.

The lesson I learnt that day, and have often reflected on is that transformation and growth happen when we choose to step out in trust and faith.

Developing a Spiritual Practice is similar. At first, everything is new, and may even be exciting. It is easy to give the time and effort it requires. As the weeks pass and the initial enthusiasm wanes, doubts may arise. We may even wonder whether it is worth our time?

At some point, we simply have to let go in faith and hope and trust the process. We may even have to let go of our idea of God as well, at least temporarily. If nothing else, to make sure we’re not suffocating God with our ideas and theology instead of opening ourselves and being available to directly experience the Divine Presence in the core being.

God, I want to know you, to touch you, but how?
And you answered me as I went outside.
The air was cool and moist.
The grass glistened, and a bird strutted cheekily in search of food;
small sprouts of grass peeked greenly upward.
Everything around me contained the potential for life and life itself,
then you touched me – and I touched you.
For this,
you have my greatest thanks!

Kia mau te rongo me te pai ki a koe i to haerenga
May you find peace and goodwill on your journey.

Phil

21. The Christ Symbol

The Christ is (the) 'us' we know first-hand, even if we have never heard of Jesus...
In this sense...you know Christ when you know your true self,
the Divine Self, the Spirit of Christ within.
David Steindl-Rast

Thinking about my last Blog, and how St Francis of Assisi is a significant life-symbol for me, I am also aware that he too had a Life Symbol as he sought to follow in the footprints of Christ. We see this reflected in the prayer he often used when entering a Church. It is also included in his final testament of the instruction to his brothers, dictated on the night he died, so they may be reminded the essence of their life, vision and calling was to also follow in 'Christ's footprints':

We adore you, most holy Lord Jesus Christ,
here, and in all your churches throughout all the world;
and we bless you,
because by your holy cross,
you have redeemed the world.

With that in mind, I was interested to come across an article titled, 'Jesus is not the same as Christ'. The author of the article (Chuck Queen), distinguished between the historical Jesus of Nazareth and the Christ 'to whom we are united' and in 'whom we live and have our being' (see Acts 17:28). The article suggested this 'Cosmic Christ' both preceded the historical Jesus, and is eternally present for us to experience as our authentic self. I found that food for thought for my next power-walk!

Closer to the heart of the issue is the meaning we associate with words and how the meaning changes with time. For example, our English word 'Christ' is a translation of the Greek word 'Christos' meaning 'Anointed One '. The corresponding Hebrew word is 'mashiyach', which occurs in several places in the Hebrew Scriptures. Usually, it referred to people who had been anointed with oil when given a position of authority – such as Priests, Kings and Prophets. After their anointing, they were referred to as 'mashiyach' – the Anointed Ones.

What I also found interesting, was the English translation of 'mashiyach' is 'Messiah'. The Greek translation of 'mashiyach' is 'Christos' (or 'Christ' in English). It was only later that the word 'Christ' became associated with the post-resurrection Jesus. It was never his second name.

But you might say – 'It is written in the Gospels!' – and that was because the Gospels were written after Paul's letters. By then the Jesus-followers understood that this man carried with him the anointing (Christos) of God's presence and those who also reflected this same charisma started to be called Christianoí (or 'Christians' in English. See Acts 11:26).

All that may be so. What attracts my interest, (and I referred to it in the latter part of my last Blog), this same anointing presence of God is still available to us; for us to encounter and experience and to 'live and move and have our being'. Or as Franciscan Priest, Richard Rohr,has suggested, this eternal Christ Mystery began with the beginning of time – long before humans existed – and this same Divine Presence is still present within all Creation for anyone with open eyes and heart to encounter and experience.

For me, as a Franciscan, I value St Francis and the way he mirrored the eternal Christ mystery in his life, in his calling, and in his passion to imitate the spirituality of Jesus. In doing so, he pointed a way for us to discover the vibrancy of the Christ Symbol for ourselves.

Kia mau te rongo me te pai ki a koe i to haerenga.
May you find peace and good will on your journey.

Phil

_______­________________

• David Steindl-Rast) Deeper Than Words: Living the Apostles' Creed, Image, 2010.

• Queen, C, Jesus is not the same as Christ, https://baptistnews.com/article/jesus-is-not-the-same-as-christ/#.XwzyYBJS-00

20. Life Symbols

'We live by symbols.
Who controls our symbols, therefore controls our life.

Mr Justice Holmes

This past week my wife and I were formally professed into the Secular Franciscan Order. While it was a special occasion, it also reminded me that Franciscan spirituality has been part of my life since I was an undergraduate in the 1960s. I was reflecting on this during my 'power-walk' today, and how St Francis is a significant symbol for me – one that offers a lens that brings into focus a certain perspective of my life that has shaped my values and spirituality, and to some degree, my future, as suggested by Justice Holmes in the quote above. As I walked, one thought led to another, as I considered three possible perspectives (or Life Symbols) that could influence our psychological and spiritual life and the choices we make.

1.'The Lineal Perspective'.

We find this view echoed in Shakespeare's 'As You Like It':

All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances... until our 'second childishness'
followed by 'mere oblivion'?

This Lineal perspective considers our life began at our conception (or birth) and progresses through the years until old age and eventually death claims us. We find this view in the Hebrew Scriptures (eg Ps 6:5; 30:9; 88:10-11; 115:17; Is 38:18) or reflected in Dylan Thomas's poem, Do not go gentle into that good night.' Many religious traditions add to this lineal perspective by saying death is not the end but a doorway into a new way of living. We find this belief for example, in Christianity, based on the resurrection of Jesus.

2. 'Circular – or Recycling – Perspective'.

This view adds to the one above by suggesting we live in a circular universe. One example of the is by Jane Cull in her article on 'The Circularity of Life' (Ecologist,4 Nov 2014).

No living system is ever out of circularity, including human beings. Even in death, the molecules and cells... become reabsorbed back into the circularity of life.

While all life is in a constant state of change as the cells in our body wear out and die, the components are being recycled and replaced – until our life ends. This view reflected in the following Buddhist poem:

All compounded existence is impermanent; flashing like

lightening, fleeting as a soap bubble. All that is conceivable is

subject to destruction; the universe and environment and sentient

beings within it. Death is inescapable...

Any future we have is found in our children and in the good we leave behind us.

3. 'The Spiral Perspective'.

This perspective combines elements from both the above views, but is more open-ended and expansive. One popular saying on the web suggests:

The Spiral is a sacred symbol that represents the journey and change of life as it unfolds;
taking a labyrinth-like passage that leads to Source

This perspective sees all life as a sacred spiral that once began by the mind and breath of God at the moment of creation, and continues to flow in a never-ending personal journey. We are never left alone because this same Divine Source continues to hold us and sustain us. In this way, the spiral symbol is the pathway between the inward and outward world, that links and subtly holds all things together, as expressed in this simple ritual I use each morning:

Spreading out my arms, palms face up I say:

Infinite God in whom I live, and move and have my being – I open myself to your infinite love.

Bring my hands forward and together I say:

Intimate God, you always with me – closer than my breathing, nearer than my hands and feet.

Placing my hands over my belly-centre I say:

Inner God, you are within me bringing life and energy to every cell of my body –
let your love and life flow through me in everything I do this day.

These are just three perspectives I thought of on my walk – you may think of others. What do you think?

Kia mau te rongo me te pai ki a koe i to haerenga
May you find peace and good will on your journey.

Phil