Tag: Buddhism

Red Delicious Vedanta

~ Deb ~ 1 Comment 
Once upon a random
time, there was an apple
hanging by its stem from
a tree, an apple tree,
of course. It was one 
with the tree but also had
an awkward but compelling 
sense of individuality.

“I am one of many apples,”
it thought, because apples may
be able to think — who really
knows? “But I am special, 
unique, and different. I can feel
it. There is more for me to do
then just hang from this tree.” 

And one day, sure enough, the
sticky stuff holding the stem to 
the tree let go, and the apple 
fell to the ground. 

How exhilarating! 

Not even a parachute or a
fireman’s net to break the
fall. Just an abrupt and
dramatic entrance into a 
whole new life. 

“Ah,” thought the apple. “Now
life can really begin.” And it was
a true shame apples have no 
palms to rub together, or ours
would have. 

And so the apple waited. Other
apples were gently picked by the
orchard workers.  Some had fallen
to the ground as our apple had and 
were tossed into the bruised basket
headed for the cider mill.  But our
apple had tumbled into the tall grass
near the fence line, unseen by 
people or even deer.  

“Surely,” thought the apple, “something
grand will happen soon, something
special, unique, and different just like
me.” But days passed and nothing
happened. 

Our apple started to rot and soon
ants were crawling over it so
disrespectfully.  The red skin turned
a deep and putrid auburn. The white
insides began to age into
brown. 

“I so wanted to be unique,” said the
apple, “and here I am nothing but 
rotting flesh. Oh, how I wish I had 
stayed one with the tree.” The 
apple looked up and saw the orchard
limbs bare. All of the apples and
pears and persimmons had been
plucked or had fallen. 

“I am not one with the tree, and
perhaps I never was,” our apple
opined.  Disappointment caused 
rot to come even more quickly. 
Fall became winter.  Snow covered
the apple, which was now not much
more than a stem and a few
seeds. 

When spring thawed the ground, the
apple awakened from its hibernation, 
for apples are related to bears and 
hedgehogs and bumblebees and humans —
all other beings who spend long stretches 
asleep.  The apple felt different. 
It felt green and new. The apple
patted itself down like a sleepwalker
checking for awakeness and discovered
that a seed had taken root.  It was
becoming a tree, one that would 
someday give birth to apples. 

And finally the apple knew —
It was never one with the tree;
it was one with the earth. 
As apple, as seed, as tree —
one with the mother of us 
all.

Unlimited Compassion

~ Deb ~ Leave a comment

I posted a meme to social media recently quoting an influencer named Pastor Brandon.  His quote, the one I liked so much that I stole it, is “When I stand before God, I’d rather answer for loving too freely than explain why my theology made people feel unwelcome at His table.” 

It reminds me of another favorite quote by another minister, Rev. Eston Williams: “At the end of the day, I’d rather be excluded for who I include than be included for who I exclude.” 

Though my personal spiritual journey may differ from these two Christian pastors, I welcome anyone into my energetic circle who maintains inclusive guiding principles such as these.  Because, let’s face it, our world could use all the welcome-home, lemme-give-you-a-hug, soup’s-on kind of acceptance it can get these days. 

Of COURSE, someone had to leap onto my post and make this comment: “Loving does not mean condoning. Compassion can coexist with strict adherence to God’s laws.” 

But can it?  Can it really? And what precisely does one mean by “God’s laws”? 

Let’s deal with the laws first and get my response to the poster out of the way.  My reply was: “Humans made all the laws. The closest thing we have to a divine law is when Yeshua said to love God and love our neighbor as ourself. Everything else is debatable through various lenses of interpretation and culture.”

But the far more important question here is the one about compassion and just what it can and can’t coexist with.  Compassion and judgment don’t seem to be natural friends.  Judgment comes from a place of moral superiority, a sense of rightness in the face of another’s wrongness.  It comes from believing we have the ultimate definition of “God’s Laws.” The Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön said that “Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals.”  The delusion of moral superiority cannot exist in the same space as true compassion because it assumes inequality. 

Another part of the commenter’s phrase that slips by almost undetected is “strict adherence — Compassion can coexist with strict adherence to God’s laws.” 

I’m probably stepping into a deep pool here, but I’m a swimmer, so let’s do it. In and of itself, there is nothing wrong with “strict adherence.”  I’d like to live a life that strictly adheres to love and joy and freedom and spiritual expansion.  Yet I’ve found that doing so inherently leads me away from words like “strict” and “adherence.”  Compassion, just like love and joy and freedom, requires suppleness, flexibility, an artistic walk with the sacred rather than a lockstep adherence to a prescribed set of dos and don’ts. Compassion requires an ever-present awareness of how my sacred urging can meet the needs of the one in front of me, not a creed or manual or how-to book.  Compassion requires that I stay awake to the moment, not that I memorize ten commandments or twelve steps or eight beatitudes.  

Mostly, I wonder what compels someone to rush judgment into a declaration of inclusion.  Why the urgent need to counterbalance an expression of love? 

So much in this life leans toward the other side of the scale.  It just seems to me that unlimited compassion might be a good way to go.  

Soup’s on.  Get you a bowl.  

Conversion Blues

~ Deb ~ 1 Comment

In the almost 40+ years I’ve been deconstructing my inherited faith and discovering a lived and meaningful spirituality, I’ve known a shit-ton of people.  Each of those people brought a unique perspective from a unique place on a unique path. One of my core beliefs is that all paths lead up the mountain. I deeply value the insight others bring, and I only ask the same respect in return for my own path.  

Overwhelmingly, the people I’ve met along the way have been those who, much like me, walked away from a rigid, one-pointed belief where they were taught to accept a particular ideology completely and put all others into a pile labeled “evil.”  Not “unimportant,” or “useless,” or even “rejected.”  “Evil.”  The evangelicalism of my youth taught me that if I was not 100% pro-Jesus as they understood him, then I was worse than neutral; I was on Satan’s payroll and guided by demons.  

It takes a lot to shake that.  So those of us who do and then find each other are often immensely grateful to have encountered kindred spirits.  And because the deconstruction has included an opening of the heart and mind to the beauty in so many spiritual paths, this group is usually quite diverse.  While often eschewing specific labels, most of my spiritual tribe tends to be those who take inspiration and comfort in Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, Paganism, Sikhism, Wicca, and whatever other path one might add to the mix.     

But here’s where it gets weird.  A couple of times, rarely and randomly, someone will come into my circle, usually a younger person, who displays great open-mindedness and a natural bent toward the esoteric and mystical.  About the time I’m thinking, “oh, how wonderful it would be to have been that free so young,” they post something to social media announcing their conversion to Christianity.  And then it builds. They post more and more. Eventually, they share pictures of the mega-church they now belong to.  Instead of the latest Tik-Tok dance, they’re now posting Bible verses.  

Now that, in and of itself, is wonderful.  All paths lead up the mountain, and if this is their path, then I’m so happy they’ve found it. The rub comes, though, when they’ve bought in so completely that their posts begin condemning all other paths.  New Christian converts seem to pass into the “I’ve got to save everyone from hell” phase quite quickly. 

They’ve moved from joy to condemnation without skipping a beat, which makes an awkward dance-move.  

In full disclosure, I’ve seen this happen twice in 40+ years, so we’re not talking about a tsunami here.  I often find that people who open their minds rarely close them again.  And for fear I am misunderstood, let me emphasize that the closing of the mind is not in converting to Christianity; it’s in the off-putting and judgmental sense of spiritual superiority that sometimes accompanies it. 

I’m curious about their path.  I wonder if this will stick or a more expansive appreciation will return for them.  I wonder what the twists and turns will do to them in the dark nights of the soul they are undoubtedly yet to experience — not because they’re Christian but because they’re babies.  I wonder if they will ever again have a moment of darkness in which they see light coming from a Rumi poem or a Buddhist idea or a new moon.  I wonder if they’ll leave room for the mystic Yeshua, the Jesus of the Gnostics.  

So many places they will go.  So many miles down the path that is theirs to trod.  

I don’t judge their path.  I wish them well on it.  I wish them eyes that see and ears that hear.  I wish them peace and freedom.  I wish them an experience of the Sacred that renders them speechless and transformed.  I wish them enlightenment, nirvana, moksha, even if they only ever call it sanctification.  

Mostly, I pray they will see the Jesus they love as a champion for compassion rather than a measuring stick for judgment.  

Oh, To Have Been ‘Round the Moon

~ Deb ~ Leave a comment

How jealous we all were of the crew of Artemis II. To leave this third rock for even an abbreviated fortnight, to see the world without borders, to be pleasantly news-less.

We think we live in unprecedented times. On one hand, we do, and on the other, these times are grossly precedented. We still fight over religion and land and power and politics, like the ancient Sumerians and Egyptians did. Like the Britons and Vikings did. Like the Muslims and Christians did. Oops . . . do.

The only path to peace I know in the midst of it all is to regularly and meaningfully transcend. Exit the gravitational pull. Step away. The Buddhist Heart Sutra gave us the perfectly concise mantra Gate, Gate, Paragate, Parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha. The meaning is simple: Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone completely beyond. Oh, what an enlightenment.

The most consistent question I receive as an interfaith minister is the question of how we live in this world, how we juggle politics and family, how we maintain bliss in the face of chaos. SHOULD we maintain bliss in the face of chaos. Honestly, I don’t have one go-to answer. I often respond based on how the day feels, what has been shown to me, and/or how the inquiry is couched. I do think we have to be artful with this question — what works one day may not be the next day’s answer.

I do know, however, that the way to be ready for what each day holds is to remember who we are, go into the silence, enter the inner spaciousness where Divine Presence lives in us as us. Succumb to the stillness. Sit still and listen with ears of the heart.

The German poet, Rainer Maria Rilke, wrote a poem that serves as a good reminder of what is real in the beyond. Here it is translated into English by Stephen Mitchell:

BUDDHA IN GLORY

Center of all centers, core of cores,
almond self-enclosed, and growing sweet—
all this universe, to the furthest stars
all beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit.

Now you feel how nothing clings to you;
your vast shell reaches into endless space,
and there the rich, thick fluids rise and flow.
Illuminated in your infinite peace,

a billion stars go spinning through the night,
blazing high above your head.
But in you is the presence that
will be, when all the stars are dead.