SOME OF THE most compelling anecdotal evidence for life after death comes in the form of messages from deceased loved ones. Sometimes these messages are relayed by full-blown apparitions, while other times they come as voices, unseen hands and even written notes. Messages from the “other side” are most often words of comfort for the living, that they are okay and are still watching out for us. In the most interesting cases, however, those who have passed on communicate messages that are not only highly personal, but are of particular significance, important – even life saving. Here are some of those stories.
Grandfather's Gift
April had always been very close to her great-grandfather, who was a highly-respected baker and decorator of wedding cakes. When he died, April was heart-broken. “I barely spoke or interacted with anybody,” she says. A few weeks later, she was awakened from a sound sleep. She noticed something out of the corner of her eye. “I turned to look at the hall leading to my room. There was my great-grandfather standing there with another being. My great-grandfather just looked at me, raised his hand and lowered it back to his side slowly while saying, ‘Everything will be okay. I'll always be with you.’” April was told to lie down and go back to sleep. But her great-grandfather left April with an incredible gift. “Ever since then, I have been able to decorate and make any type of dessert – exactly the way he did. Before that, I had never even tried to ice a cake.”
Mom's Voice
It was an otherwise ordinary night in August of 1975 when 18-year-old Kris was taking her clothes to the laundromat behind the restaurant where she worked. She put she clothes in the washer and headed back to the restaurant to help her boyfriend, who was a cook there, close up the place. While walking to the back entrance, Kris’s attention was grabbed be a nondescript gold-colored car, although she didn’t know why. “I even turned around to look at it a final time before entering the back of the kitchen area,” she remembers. Once inside, she started to walk to the front of the kitchen area, then decided against it and simply leaned against a door area where she could not be seen from the front, as she was not in uniform and could hear customers. Suddenly, it became quiet. “Thinking that the last of the evening patrons had left, I started to take a step when I heard my mom's voice, as though she were standing there say, ‘Kris, don't move!’” Fortunately, Kris listened. Then one of the waitresses came screaming to the back and grabbed the phone to call the police. The restaurant had just been robbed at gunpoint! “Had I walked into view of the doorway,” Kris says, “I would have seen my boyfriend lying face down on the floor, the waitress and the few customers on their knees – and I would have been directly behind the gunman, who was so nervous I probably would have been shot when I startled him.”
Brotherly Ties
One night in June, 1942, George D. had a conversation with his brother that he could not explain. His brother, you see, was not there. He was flying bombers out of Trinidad, on a mission to destroy German submarines. “He told me he was going on a long trip and would not return,” George says. “I asked if I could go with him and he said not for a long time.” When George told his mother and sister about this impossible conversation, they dismissed it as a dream. Several days later, George’s family received the official notification that his brother died in a plane crash on 7 June, 1942. “Many years later, I was wounded and delirious during WW2,” George says. “When admitted for medical care, I could only remember my brother's name, serial number and military organization identification. I am still waiting for my brother's permission to go on his long trip.”
Next page > Messages through notes and music
(cont'd)
Father's Important Advice
“I was in a car accident in December, 1985,” says L. Young, and although she was taken to the emergency room, she was not seriously hurt. Because the ER was so overcrowded, L. was not able to get X-rays taken that day, but promised the doctor she would return the following day to have some tests done. That night, however, she received an important message from beyond. “My father had passed away the previous January,” L. says, “but he visited me that night. He stood at the end of my bed, dressed in his work clothes and work boots. He asked me to come downstairs so we could talk and not disturb my husband. I went.” L. to this day is still not sure if this was a dream, but what her father told her convinced her it was real, dream or not. “We hugged, and he told me to forego the X-rays the following day because I was pregnant, and that he was so happy that I would be giving him his first grandson. He told me to make sure that I told ‘Kitten’ that he loved her. I wasn't sure what he meant, but I agreed. Our conversation finally ended when my husband came to the top of the stairs and asked me who I was talking to. My father disappeared.” L. went back to bed. The next day, she told her mother about this remarkable experience. “She admitted that my father called her ‘Kitten’ when they made love – something that I could not have known.” The next day, L. went to the hospital for X-rays, but first asked to be tested to see if she was pregnant. Although she had been completely unaware of it, the doctors confirmed that she was. In fact, she was only three days pregnant when her father gave her the news.
Dad Leaves a Note
One September morning in 1999, Clair was surprised to find a message written on a little notepad stuck on her refrigerator with a magnet. The note said, "Rise and shine, Claire." She swears the note was in her father's handwriting. The thing is, her father had died two years earlier, and she knows the notepad was blank when she went to bed the night before. “I know it wasn't faked,” Clair says, “because he had something called benign familial tremor, so his writing was really shaky.” Clair’s two daughters, neither of whom lived with her anyway, denied any joke on their part. What’s more, the message was personal. “It was something he always said to me when it was time for me to get up to go to high school some 30 years ago. I can't explain it, but I think it really is great that my father hasn't forgotten me!”
Play It Again, Grandma
Diane was of high school age when she received a remarkable little message from her grandmother. It was a Friday night and her whole family was at the high school game, as her brother was playing in it. “I had been grounded for some reasons I can't remember now,” Diane says. Her grandmother, who had lived with the family, had passed away about two years earlier. And she was the only one in the family who could play the piano, which was kept in the basement. “I only ever heard her play two songs,” says Diane. “One was The Third Man Theme.” Diane was alone in the house. “I had been watching TV, and all of a sudden I heard The Third Man Theme coming up from the basement. I got shivers and was scared to death. I think my grandmother was trying to get ahold of me by doing this. I will never forget it!”
Next page > Guiding hands and pranks
(cont'd)
Grandma's Watch
Julie’s sister Sue had an appointment to see a psychic medium. Julie wanted to go, too, but could not because of other commitments. “At the exact time of her appointment,” Julie says, “I remembered our grandmother who had died 14 years previously. I also remembered her old-fashioned watch on a long chain, which had been given to me shortly after she died.” Julie reached into her jewelry box and pulled out the watch. She then said out loud, "Nan, if there is such a thing as life after death, mention the watch to Sue and this will be my proof." Julie felt a little silly at having said this and thought nothing more of it. The following day when she met Sue, Sue showed her the notes she had taken at the psychic sitting. Half way down the sheet of paper were scribbled lines describing a lady who was coming through to the medium, and the words she kept saying were, "Here's your proof – the proof you've been asking for." Sue was skeptical because she didn’t understand the message. "What was really strange," Sue told Julie, "was that the medium described the lady she was seeing as leaning forward holding out a fob watch on a chain, which she was wearing. Didn't Nan have one of those?"
Grandmother's Strong Hand
Karen never knew her maternal grandmother since she died when her own mother was just nine years old. One night, Karen was walking home after meeting with friends. She stepped into the street to cross when she felt a strong hand grip her by the shoulder. “This hand not only pulled me back on to the sidewalk,” Karen says, “but was strong enough to land me on my posterior on the sidewalk. When I glanced around me, I caught a glimpse of a light blue, periwinkle-colored dress with tiny white flowers.” Other than that, there was absolutely no one around to account for whoever grabbed her. At the exact same time, a car came whizzing around the corner at breakneck speed. “If I had been standing where I was a moment earlier, I would certainly have been run over and either seriously injured or killed,” Karen declares. When she returned home, still shaken by the near accident, Karen told her mother what had happened. “When I told her that I saw a periwinkle-colored dress with white flowers just after I was pulled out of harm's way, she blanched and became completely still,” Karen says. “She told me that my grandmother had a dress exactly like the one I described, and that it was my mother's favorite. To this day, I feel my grandmother's presence around me. I think she is looking out for me.”
Brother Still Teases
When C.B.’s brother died, he went to his apartment to find papers concerning his military service for burial purposes. But he couldn't find them, although he searched the apartment thoroughly. Fortunately, even without the papers, his brother was given a military burial after C.B. made some phone calls. “Later, when I returned to his apartment, I was still angry I hadn't found his file,” says C.B. “Well, there it was on the kitchen table. And there he was, sitting in his favorite chair with a smug smile on his face. I went to chew him out for putting me through all this trouble... and he disappeared.” Later, C.B. needed the registration for his brother’s car so he could have it towed to storage. He asked his brother’s landlord to search the car for the missing registration, and he assured C.B. that he had checked very carefully (the visors, the glovebox, the trunk, etc.) and found nothing. The following morning, C.B. went to his brother’s apartment to wait for the tow truck and decided to check the car again. “I opened the driver's door, and there on the driver's seat were the car registration and insurance papers,” C.B. says. “Needless to say, the landlord came over to see and freaked out. My brother and I were so mentally bonded, I guess he had to give me a last tease, as he did in life, to leave me loving memories of his shenanigans
taking Jesus Seriously
02.28.05 (7:00 pm) [edit]Taking Jesus Seriously
Dr. Marcus Borg
Hundere Professor of Religion and Culture
Oregon State University
Corvallis, Oregon
(This sermon is also available in audio)
So what does it mean to stand up for Jesus? What does it mean to jump up and down for Jesus? What does it mean to take him seriously? What does it mean to follow him?
Drawing upon my study of the historical Jesus, of the Pre-Easter Jesus, it seems to me that a life that takes Jesus seriously would have two primary focal points, and that is what I want to talk about today.
The first of these focal points of the Christian life is a life deeply centered in God, deeply centered in the Spirit. God or the Spirit was at the very center of Jesus' own life.
In my historical work, I speak of Jesus as a Jewish mystic, and I see this as foundational to everything else that he was. Now, what I mean by the word "mystic" is actually quite simple. Mystics are people, and they are known in every culture that we know anything about; mystics are people who have vivid and typically frequent experiences of God or the sacred or the Spirit--terms, which I use synonymously and interchangeably.
The Jewish tradition before Jesus is full of such people. According to the stories told about them, Abraham, Jacob, Moses, the prophets of Ancient Israel, all of these were people for whom God or the sacred was an experiential reality. These people did not simply believe strongly in God, they knew God. And once one takes seriously that there really are people like this, then it seems clear to me that whatever else we say about Jesus, we need to say that he was one of these--one who knew God in his own experience.
If we take Jesus seriously as a Jewish mystic, it also affects how we think about God or the sacred. It means that we need to think about God not as a person-like being out there separate from the universe, a long ways away, not here. But, it means we need to think of God or the sacred as the encompassing Spirit that is all around us, and that is separated from us only by the membranes of our own consciousness. A mystic like Jesus is one in whom those membranes of consciousness become very thin, and one experiences God or the sacred. Jesus invited his followers to a relationship to the same Spirit, the same God that he knew in his own experience.
How do we become centered in the Spirit of God? How do we actually experience what Jesus experienced? Well, the Gospels of the New Testament have many ways of talking about that, about The Way or The Path. One of the central images for The Way or The Path is what the journey of Lent itself is about.
The journey of Lent is about journeying with Jesus from Galilee to Jerusalem-- which is the place of endings as well as beginnings, the place of death and resurrection. It is the place where, to use an old word play, the tomb becomes a womb.
That journey of Jesus from Galilee to Jerusalem is at the very center of the Synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke. We see it, perhaps, with greatest clarity in the great central section of Mark's Gospel. Three times in that great central section, which runs from Mark 8:27 through the end of Chapter 10, Jesus speaks of his own impending death and resurrection in Jerusalem. He says, "The Son of Man must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things. The authorities will seize him and mock him and scourge him and put him to death, and on the third day he will rise again." After each of those three predictions of the Passion, as they are called, Jesus speaks of following after him, of following him on that path of death and resurrection.
Lent is about precisely that journey. Lent is about mortality and transformation. We begin the season of Lent on Ash Wednesday with the sign of the cross smeared on our foreheads with ashes as the words are spoken over us, "Dust thou art, and to dust thou wilt return."
We begin this season of Lent not only reminded of our death, but also marked for death. The Lenten journey, with its climax in Holy Week and Good Friday and Easter, is about participating in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Put somewhat abstractly, this means dying to an old identity--the identity conferred by culture, by tradition, by parents, perhaps--and being born into a new identity--an identity centered in the Spirit of God. It means dying to an old way of being, and being born into a new way of being, a way of being centered once again in God.
Put slightly more concretely, this path of death and resurrection, of radical centering in God, may mean for some of us that we need to die to specific things in our lives--perhaps to a behavior or a pattern of behavior that has become destructive or dysfunctional; perhaps to a relationship that has ended or gone bad; perhaps to an unresolved grief that needs to be let go of; perhaps to a career or job that has either been taken from us or that no longer nourishes us; or perhaps even we need to die to a deadness in our lives.
You can even die to deadness, and this dying is also oftentimes a daily rhythm in our lives--that daily occurrence that happens to some of us as we remind ourselves of the reality of God in our relationship to God; that reminder that can take us out of ourselves, lift us out of our confinement, take away our feeling of being burdened and weighed down.
So, that's the first focal point of a life that takes Jesus seriously: that radical centering in the Spirit of God that is at the very center of the Christian life. Now, this radical centering in God does not leave us unchanged. It transforms us, and this leads us to the second focal point of what it means to follow Jesus, what it means to take Jesus seriously.
In a single sentence, it means compassion in the world of the every day. Slightly more fully, it means a life of compassion and a passion for justice. I need both of these words, compassion and justice, for compassion without justice easily gets individualized or sentimentalized, and justice without compassion easily sounds like politics.
Compassion is utterly central to the teaching of Jesus. As those of you who have read one or more of my books on Jesus know, I see it as the core value, the ethical paradigm of the life of faithfulness to God, as we see it in Jesus. Jesus sums up theology and ethics in a very short saying (six words in English). It is found in Luke 6:36 with a parallel in Matthew 5:48. "Therefore [very early Q material for those of you who like to know things like that], be compassionate as God is compassionate." The word for compassionate in both Hebrew and Aramaic is related to the word for womb. Thus, to be compassionate is to be womb-like, to be like a womb. God is womb-like, Jesus says, therefore, you be womb-like.
What does it mean to be womb-like? Well, it means to be life-giving, nourishing. It means to feel what a mother feels for the children of her womb: tenderness, willing their well-being, finding her children precious and beautiful. It can also mean a fierceness, for a mother can be fierce when she sees the children of her womb being threatened or treated destructively. Compassion is not just a soft, woosy virtue. It can have passion and fierceness to it as well.
To speak of compassion as the core value of the Christian life may seem like old hat to us, like ho-hum. But, contrasted for a moment to what some Christians have thought the Christian life is most centrally about, that it is really about righteousness--keeping your moral shirt-tails clean, avoiding being stained by the world--in that sense, the Christian life is profoundly different from compassion. In many ways, compassion is virtually the opposite of righteousness in that sense. Jesus, as a person, was filled with compassion, and he calls us to compassion.
Jesus was also filled with a passion for justice. This is probably the least understood part of the teaching of Jesus in the modern American church, and maybe throughout most of the church's history. It's because we often misunderstand what the word justice means or we understand it poorly. We sometimes think that justice has to do with punishment, with people getting what is coming to them for what they have done wrong. When we think that way, then we think that the opposite of justice is mercy. But in the Bible, the opposite of justice is not mercy; the opposite of justice is injustice.
Justice and injustice have to do with the way societies are structured, with the way political and economic systems are put together. Like the Hebrew social prophets before him, Jesus' passion for justice set him against the domination system of his world and his time. It set him against a politically oppressive and economically exploitative system that had been designed by wealthy and powerful elites, legitimated by religion, and designed by them in their own narrow self-interests. And the domination system of his time, like the domination systems of all time, had devastating effects on the lives of peasants.
Also, like the Hebrew social prophets, Jesus was a God-intoxicated voice of peasant-religious-social protests, not just protests against the domination system, but an advocate of God's justice. God's justice is about social justice. God's justice is about the equitable distribution of God's earth, and a passion for God's justice sets you against all of those systems designed by people in their own narrow self-interests to benefit the few at the expense of the many.
Indeed, it was Jesus' passion for justice that got him killed. That is why the authorities, the powers that be, executed him. The journey of Lent reminds us of that, too: that Jesus was killed; he didn't simply die.
In the 13th chapter of Luke, some Pharisees come to Jesus to warn him that Herod is planning to kill him. Jesus replies, "Go and tell that fox Herod [fox in the world of the Jewish homeland in the first century did not mean a sly, cunning, wily creature; it had more the connotation of skunk, go and tell that skunk Herod], that it cannot be that a prophet should perish outside of Jerusalem." Then he speaks of Jerusalem. "Jerusalem, the one who kills the prophets, and stones those who are sent to you." It is Jerusalem, of course, not as the center of Judaism, but Jerusalem as the center of the native domination system, of that economically exploitative and politically oppressive system that radically impoverished peasants and drove them to an existence of destitution and even desperation. Jesus is killed because of his passionate criticism of that system and his advocacy of the Kingdom of God. Which is what life would be like on Earth if God were King and the domination systems of this world were not. This is the political meaning of Good Friday.
To connect this back to compassion, justice is the social form of compassion. Justice and compassion are not opposites or different things, but justice is the social and political form of caring for the least of these. If we take Jesus seriously, we are called to both compassion and justice.
To move to my conclusion, following Jesus--the journey of Lent--means a radical centering in God in which our own well-being resides, re-connecting to a center of meaning and purpose and energy in our lives. It means a passion for compassion and justice in the world of the every day. The Gospel of Jesus is ultimately very simple. There is nothing complicated about this at all. It's taking seriously your relationship to God and taking seriously caring what God cares about in the world.
The Gospel invites us to stand up for Jesus, to take Jesus seriously, even to jump up and down for Jesus. If we are not there yet, if the moving of the Spirit in our hearts is but yet a faint stirring, then we are invited to sing along in silence. Even the songs that we sing in silence shape our lives.
Amen.
Copyright 2001 Dr. Marcus Borg
compelling evidence for life after death
02.28.05 (5:01 pm) [edit]Compelling evidence for life after death
The blessings and challenges of lent
02.27.05 (4:30 am) [edit]The Blessings and Challenges of Lent | ||||
| ||||
born again
02.26.05 (5:03 pm) [edit]Born Again, Part I: The Transformation of Self
Dr. Marcus J. Borg
Hundere Professor of Religion and Culture
Oregon State University
Corvallis, Oregon
(This sermon is also available in audio.)
Good morning. It's very nice to be back here in Memphis and to be back at this parish for the eighth year in a row. I've admired this parish's vision and mission, and I'm very pleased to be here once again. I'm told that my sermons often sound like lectures, even as my lectures often sound like sermons. But that's what I do, and so it will also be this year.
I invite you to join me in a brief moment of prayer. I am going to use a prayer from St. Augustine.
Oh, God, from whom to be turned is to fall; to whom to be turned is to rise; and in whom to stand is to abide forever. Grant us in all our duties thy help; in all our perplexities, your guidance; in all our dangers, thy protection; and in all our sorrows, thy peace. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, our body, and our blood, our life and our nourishment. Amen.
The title of my sermon today is "Born Again." I see my sermons today and tomorrow as a two-part series, as two parts of a whole, and both parts are equally important. Today I'm going to speak about the personal transformation that lies at the very center of the Christian life, and I am going to speak about that by talking about being born again. Tomorrow I'm going to speak about the social transformation that lies at the center of the Christian life by preaching about the kingdom of God. Together these two well-known phrases from the New Testament--"born again" and "the kingdom of God"--can provide a vision of what it means to be a Christian in our times. I turn to today's topic, Born Again, the personal, individual, internal transformation at the center of the Christian life.
I want to begin by acknowledging that I think it's unfortunate that we in the mainline denominations have tended to let our more conservative Christian brothers and sisters have a near monopoly on the language of "born again." I think there are a number of reasons that we have done that. The language might be a bit hot and heavy for us, perhaps. And most of us have known at least one person who was born again in a singularly unattractive way. From your laughter I can tell you know exactly what I mean. When the born again experience leads to an even greater sense of self-righteousness or judgmentalism, it's not the born again experience, or there's an awful lot of static in it. Moreover, sometimes being born again is very narrowly defined in some Christian circles as if it's the same as receiving the gift of the Spirit, particularly the gift of tongues. Or it's defined even more narrowly, yet, in the left-behind novels that have been on the New York Times bestseller list of the last several years, those novels about the rapture and the second coming. In one of those novels that I've read, believing in the rapture and the imminent second coming of Jesus is defined as the meaning of being born again.
But it is a much broader notion, a much more comprehensive notion than any of these narrow meanings. It is, as I've already said, at the very center of the Christian life, and I think we need to reclaim it. And so, in my sermon today I'm going to speak about its centrality, its meaning, and its application to our lives.
The classic born again text is, of course, the story of Jesus and Nicodemus at the beginning of the third chapter of John's Gospel, which happens to be the lectionary text for the second Sunday of Lent this year. Let me briefly remind you of some of the details of this well-known story. It is rich in symbolism, missed connections, and double meanings as so many stories from John's Gospel are.
It begins with Nicodemus coming to Jesus by night, and already we have the first symbolic touch. Nicodemus is in the dark. And darkness and light are central images in John's Gospel. The Christian life is about coming in out of the dark and becoming enlightened. And Nicodemus addresses Jesus in flattering, but, I think, sincere terms. He says, "We know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one could do the signs that you do unless he were from God." Jesus responds in such a way as to suggest it's not about signs, it's not about miracles, it's about being born again. Specifically, Jesus responds by saying, "Very truly I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above."
Here we have the first of the double meanings. The Greek phrase translated born from above also can be translated born again. Translators have struggled with whether to translate it as born from above or born again, but it's clear that the author of John intends both meanings. To be born again is to be born from above, to be born of the Spirit.
Now it is Nicodemus' turn again. He doesn't get it, and he asks, "How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into one's mother's womb and be born again?"
Nicodemus takes Jesus' words literally. Nicodemus is a literalist. And so, Jesus repeats himself. "You must be born from above. You must be born again." And then, Jesus adds, "The wind blows where it chooses." Here we have the next double meaning; in fact, a triple meaning, because the Greek word translated as wind, pneuma, also means breath and spirit. So, Jesus is saying, the wind blows where it chooses; the breath of God blows where it chooses; the Spirit blows where it chooses. He continues: "And you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit."
That's the classic text. As I recall, "born again" occurs only one more time in the New Testament, but the notion, even though not the phrase, is utterly central to the rest of the New Testament. We see it in the New Testament's emphasis upon death and resurrection, dying and rising, as a metaphor for the psychological spiritual process, the psychological spiritual transformation at the center of the Christian life. This language of death and resurrection, dying and rising, is central to Jesus, the Gospels, Paul and John.
In the Synoptic Gospels [Matthew, Mark and Luke] we see it highlighted, especially in the great central section of Mark's Gospel that both Matthew and Luke take over--that runs from Mark 8:27 through the end of the 10th chapter of Mark. It is the story of Jesus' final journey to Jerusalem. Mark turns it into a metaphorical narrative of what it means to follow Jesus, of what discipleship means.
Three times in that great central section, the Jesus of Mark speaks of his own impending death and resurrection in Jerusalem. After each of these three predictions of the Passion, as they are called, Jesus speaks of following him on that path--perhaps most famously in that verse: "If any person would come after me, let that person take up their cross and follow after me." To follow Jesus is to follow him on that path of dying and rising, death and resurrection.
We also find it in Paul in more than one place, but perhaps most compactly in the second chapter of Galatians. In Galatians 2:20, Paul writes about himself. Listen to how the language works. Paul writes, "I have been crucified with Christ." (Paul speaks of himself as having undergone an internal death.) Then he continues, "It is no longer I who live." (No longer I, the old Paul, who lives.) "But it is Christ who lives in me." Paul has been reborn in Christ.
In a way, John's Gospel as a whole, not just the Nicodemus text [focuses on this theme], but one verse crystallizes it from the 12th chapter. It is the well-known verse where the Jesus of John says, "Unless a grain of wheat is cast into the earth and dies, it will not bear much fruit." We are told he is referring to his death and resurrection.
This path of death and resurrection is also what the journey of Lent is about. Lent is about participating in that final journey of Jesus from Galilee to Jerusalem. This path of death and resurrection, of dying and rising, is what being born again means. What does this mean in terms of its application to our lives? Somewhat abstractly, it means dying to an old way of being and being born into a new way of being. It means dying to an old identity and being born into a new identity--an identity in the Spirit, in Christ, in God.
Why do we need to be born again? I think we all do for two somewhat closely related reasons. The first of these reasons is because of something that happens to us very early in life, perhaps in the stage of infancy and certainly in the pre-verbal stage by the time we are toddlers. It's that emerging awareness of the distinction between the self and the world. If you have very good parenting, perhaps it takes a while for that awareness to emerge, because the world seems like an extension of yourself. You get hungry; you get fed. You get wet; you get changed. You get lonely and cry; you get picked up. But at some point, that awareness of the distinction between one's self and the world emerges, and with the birth of self-consciousness--self- awareness--the natural result is that one becomes anxious about the self. One becomes concerned about the self, focused on the self.
I think this is in a way one of the central meanings of the Garden of Eden story, the story of the fall. We begin our lives in paradise as it were, with a sense of undifferentiated union with what is life in the presence of God--life in the garden of delights--and the birth of self-consciousness begins our existence east of Eden. This is something we all go through.
The second reason is because of the result of growing up. By the time we are adolescents, perhaps earlier, our sense of who we are--our sense of identity--is the produce of our socialization, the product of our culture, the product of all those cultural messages we get while we're growing up. We feel okay or not okay about ourselves to the extent that we measure up to all of those messages that we've gotten. Our identity is grounded in that. Thus, we fall further into the world of separation, alienation, comparison, judgment of self, and of others. We identify ourselves with what the contemporary Benedictine spiritual author, trainer and contemplative prayer Thomas Keating calls the false self--that self that is a reflection of culture; that self whose identity is grounded in being a certain kind of way.
The whole process of being born again is about dying to that false self and being reborn into our true self. Being born again involves dying to that identity, dying to that way of being, and born into an identity centered in God, Christ, the Spirit. This experience can be sudden and dramatic. It is for some people. Some people can name the day or the week or the month in which they felt a radical change in their lives occur in relationship to God. But for the majority of us, I suspect, it is a more gradual and incremental process, a process that goes on throughout a lifetime--perhaps a process that occurs several times in a lifetime in periods of major transition. Indeed, it is even sometimes a daily rhythm in that daily remembering of God or reminding ourselves of the reality of God that can raise us up momentarily out of our self-preoccupation and burdensome confinement.
The spiritual mentor of my childhood as a Lutheran, Martin Luther, speaks of daily dying and rising with Christ. That often fits my experience. We can even be intentional about this process. Indeed, I see this as the central meaning of spirituality. There's nothing terribly mysterious about spirituality. Spirituality is paying attention to our relationship with God. Spirituality is about becoming intentional about this process of being born again. You can't make it happen, but you can be more open to the blowing of the Spirit, to the wind that moves where it will by being intentional about the process.
This is what the session of Lent is about, about being born again, about following the path of death and resurrection, about participating in Jesus' final journey. To become somewhat more concrete as I move toward the final part of my sermon, some of us may need to die to specific things in our lives--perhaps to a behavior that has become destructive or dysfunctional, perhaps to a relationship that has ended or gone bad, perhaps to an unresolved grief or to a stage in our life that it is time to leave, perhaps to our self-preoccupation, or even to a deadness in our lives. (You can die to deadness.) It is possible to leave the land of the dead. So, the journey of Lent is about being born again--about dying and rising, about mortality and transformation.
On Ash Wednesday, as you all know, we Christians are traditionally reminded of our own mortality in a very vivid way. As the ashes are marked on our foreheads in the sign of the cross, we hear the words spoken over us, "Dust thou art and to dust thou wilt return." This is a reminder not just of our physical mortality, but of the very path of Lent itself. We begin this season of Lent not only reminded of our death but marked for death, and that path of death is about our transformation.
The journey of Lent is about being born again by participating in the death and resurrection of Jesus, about that journey from Galilee to Jerusalem. The journey of Lent with its climax in Good Friday and Easter, is about embarking on the way of Jesus on that path of mortality and transformation that is at the very center of the Christian life. When you think of it, who of us does not yearn for this? Who of us does not yearn for a fuller connection to life? Who does not yearn for an identity that releases us from anxiety and self-preoccupation? To be born again, it seems to me, corresponds to our deepest yearning. May we this Lent experience that internal transformation that is at the center of the Christian life. May we experience being born again.
Amen.
Copyright 2002 Dr. Marcus J. Borg
Last goodbyes from beyond
02.25.05 (6:11 pm) [edit]Last Goodbyes from Beyond
Last Goodbyes from Beyond
From Stephen Wagner,Your Guide to Paranormal Phenomena.
Amazing evidence for life after death
NO ONE KNOWS for certain what happens to those who have died. Many
are convinced, however, that they are sometimes in a place where they
can still watch over living persons who are most important to them.
Strong connections exist among blood relatives and even close
friends. And these connections often seem to continue after death.
There are countless personal stories from people who believe they
have been contacted in some way by a loved one who has passed on.
Often it's just a feeling. Sometimes contact is made in a dream. Then
every so often this contact is made in much more tangible ways:
visions, sounds, smells and even voices.
Here are some remarkable true stories of contact from the dead,
making their presence known one last time to settle some unfinished
business, deliver a message, give approval or assurance, or to say a
final goodbye.
Welcome Back, Grandma
Everyone loves their grandmother, but for me she was the most
important person I had ever met. I loved her so much that I found it
necessary to be a part of her death. She died in my arms and it was
the most important thing I had ever done. This night as I held her
and she slipped away, I asked her to come back to me so I know she
made it and she was happy. I am a firm believer in the afterlife and
knew that if I asked her to come back, somehow she would.
When I arrived home the night she passed away, my telephone kept
ringing. That in itself is not unusual; everyone gets phone calls.
But do they usually get them on a phone that hasn't been plugged in
for weeks? The phone rang at least 12 different times that night. It
scared me to death. Worst of all, it scared my husband, who does not
scare easily. My husband is a huge skeptic (or at least was).
I inherited my grandmother's mink stole and her mink-lined ball gown.
The night of her funeral, I walked into my walk-in closet and noticed
the scent of her perfume. I noticed it because she wore Coty's
perfume, which you cannot find anymore. My husband, being the skeptic
he was, said, "That isn't so weird. Her mink and gown are covered in
the perfume." It was so strong that usually you could smell it even
when she washed her clothes. I agreed with him and didn't give it a
further thought.
Four days later, my husband and I went upstairs to our infant son's
room because we heard voices on the baby monitor downstairs. We
weren't all that concerned because we were unsure of what it was. We
went upstairs and the teddy bear mobile over my son's crib was moving
slightly, as if someone had turned it on. As my husband and I stood
in the doorway of the room, a slight breeze passed us both with the
overwhelming scent of Coty's perfume. My husband looked at me with
tears in his eyes and said, "Hi, grandma. Welcome back." From that
point on, we only sense her perfume in our son's room. It is great to
have her back! - by Chrissy T.
Grandpa's Final Favor
My mother and I were in my grandfather's room; he had recently died.
We had gone through his room earlier looking through papers and
things that he had made. It was late at night and my mom and I
started talking about Sam, one of her really good friends. We had
moved away from my grandparents and my mom had lost Sam's phone
number. Sam was always close to my grandfather, and my mother wanted
to tell her of his death. We were lying on the bed when I looked up
and saw Sam's phone number written in big black numbers above his
bed! The ironic thing was that we had looked through the room all day
and never came across her number. Was my grandfather doing my mom a
favor... or was it just a coincidence? - by Phil
Page Two > Marriage Approvals
Mother Approves the Marriage
In December of 1980, my girlfriend (now my wife), and her two
children, ages 8 and 10, had come to visit me and her sister during
the Christmas holidays. One afternoon we were lying on my bed
talking. We had both just come away from bad marriages about the same
time the previous summer. We weren't discussing anything in
particular when the subject of marriage came up. We were lying on our
sides facing each other, when I saw a beautiful Native American lady
in a blue dress - or had a blue aura about her - suddenly appear on
the bed behind my girlfriend. The lady turned, looked at me and
smiled.
"Wow!" I said, and my girlfriend went stiff in my arms. She asked me
to describe what I had seen, and I told her. She told me that I had
seen her mother, who had been dead for several years. I had never
seen a picture of her mother, but she said that I had described her
mother perfectly, and that she had been buried in a blue dress. We
took this as a blessing, and three days later we were married. - by
Spirit Wolf
Dad Checks Her Out
My sister Lorraine has been with her high school sweetheart, Bruce,
for 13 years now. They were married in 1998 and have a precious baby
daughter. At the age of 15, and approximately six months before she
met Bruce, she was asleep one night in our parents' home when she was
awakened by the feeling of a presence in her bedroom. She was lying
on her back and opened her eyes to see a man's face suspended above
hers and smiling down at her. She described a feeling of total peace
and calmly smiled back at him. The face did not appear ghostly white
or transparent, but rather pink and fleshly like a normal human face.
He had brown hair, brown eyes and a jolly round face. She looked at
him for a while and then rolled over and went back to sleep. She
thought about the face for a while thereafter, but as it didn't
disturb her in any way, she soon put it in the back of her mind.
A few months passed and she met Bruce. They fell instantly in love
and the time came for her first visit to his home to meet his family.
Bruce met her at the front door and welcomed her into the entrance
hall. On the wall directly in front of her was a collection of framed
family photographs. In the center of the group, and occupying the
most prominent position, was a photo of Bruce's father, who she knew
had died in a car accident a year earlier. It was the face she had
seen months before! She turned cold and started shaking. Bruce
noticed and asked her what was wrong. "Nothing," she replied, to
which he responded, "You look like you've seen a ghost!" About five
years later, she decided to tell him the story. Bruce just smiled,
and with a tear in his eye replied, "That's typical of my father to
come and check out my future wife." - by Janice B.
Page Three > Very Familiar Sounds
Grandpa Zooms Back
My dad was a talented woodworker and carpenter. When he began to have
strokes and lost the feeling in his legs, he started to use a three-
wheeled motorized cart instead of a wheelchair. He was a crack up. He
used the thing like a motorcycle, driving all around in it. It made a
distinctive whirring sound as it ran and it had a cute little beep-
beep type of horn. We live in a lovely home that my dad helped me
design. He didn't do the labor, but I always say he built our house.
We could hear him coming up the circular drive and beep his horn
whenever he wanted to visit. My son Shaun and he were close, seeing
each other nearly every day.
A few months after my dad passed, my son and I were at home, he in
his bed room, me in the kitchen. We both met in the entrance hallway,
having heard something quite familiar: dad's cart coming up the drive
and his characteristic beep-beep! We just stared at the door trying
to get up the courage to open the door. Finally I opened it... to
nothing. Is grandpa still coming to chat at the house he built? We
think so. I have heard him several times, and it is kind of
comforting. - by Carolina
Unfinished Business
This occurred sometime in the summer of 1991, when mom was selling
our house. My father had died in 1988. He often climbed onto our roof
to check the shingles, clear the gutters, etc. My sisters and I had
rooms on the second floor, while my mom slept on the first floor. One
night during the summer of 1991, all of us were asleep when we were
suddenly awakened. We all came out of our rooms and asked if we had
heard something. We all described the same noise - the sounds of
footsteps on the roof. I had distinctly heard them over my room, and
my sisters heard them coming from that same general area. Even my mom
on the first floor had heard them. My mom and sisters asked me to go
outside to check it out. As reluctant as I was, I went to
investigate... but I brought our dog (and my dad's old rifle) with me
just in case.
I grabbed a flashlight and went outside, while my sisters and mom
turned on as many outside lights as possible. I circled the entire
house, flashing the roof and checking the surroundings. There were
only two spots from which someone could ascend the roof without help.
I found nothing and no one (somewhat to my relief I might add). Plus,
the sounds came from the opposite side of those accessible points -
we would have heard footsteps well before we did if someone was
walking across the roof. "They" would have had to cross over both my
sisters' rooms - but my sisters didn't hear anything until the sounds
were over my room. Even more unnerving, though, is that the sounds
stopped in the middle of the roof - as if whomever was up there just
vanished. To this day, we all believe it was dad taking a stroll
across the roof before we sold the house. - by Steve S.
Page Four > Voices That Comfort and Save
Whisperings
It was a little after 1 o'clock on a Wednesday morning. I couldn't
sleep. I was tossing and turning and hearing all of these voices in
my head. Whisperings, "pssss, pssss," all these voices talking to me
all at once in my ears. It sounded like a hundred little voices
talking all at once. All of a sudden, I felt something in my room. I
looked around in the dark and felt a presence. I couldn't touch it or
see it, but I felt it. I actually felt my bed sag like it does when
someone sits on the bed to talk with you. I pulled the covers over me
and felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck and asked, "Who's
there?" It felt as if someone were watching me. After a while I fell
asleep, but was kinda scared to be in the dark. The next day I
couldn't shake the feeling of the last night's experience.
Two weeks later, my ex-husband called to tell me that our best friend
Kay had died. Kay and I had become really goods friend when my
husband and I lived in Oklahoma City. She was like a mother to me.
Since my mother lived in New York and I was in my 20s, Kay kinda of
took the position of mother to me. John told me that Kay had died in
the early hours of a Wednesday morning. Suddenly I knew that my
friend had come to say goodbye to me. It was Kay who was with me when
she passed! Those voices were angels talking to me. - by Sandra M.
Shirley Saves Her Brother
My mom told me of this story, and she still cries when she tells it.
It has never been explained. My sister, Shirley (the firstborn), died
of Downs Syndrome at the age of two in 1961. She had holes in her
heart. Almost two years later, my mother had a baby boy, my brother,
Steven. One day in 1962, my mom was up in the attic doing some work,
and my dad was in the basement in his workshop. Steven was supposedly
napping in a playpen (age one) in the den. My mom heard, clear as
day, Shirley's voice saying, "Dadda! Dadda!" ...and it was as though
she were right there next to her in the attic. Clear as day. My dad
heard the SAME THING down in his workshop. "Dadda! Dadda!" They both
say it was distinctly Shirley's voice. Loud and clear. Dad ran up to
tell mom, mom ran to tell dad. They both ran into the den, and there
was baby Steven with a plastic sheeting of dry cleaner's covering
that he had reached for on the couch - and he was suffocating. Mom
and dad both told us later on that it could not have been Steven
calling them; he called my dad, "daddy" not "dadda," and it was not
his voice. They are convinced to this day that it was Shirley warning
them that her brother was suffocating. - by Donna B.
Death Visions
02.25.05 (3:08 pm) [edit]Deathbed Visions |
Close to the moment of death, apparitions of deceased friends and loved ones appear to escort the dying to the other side. It is a phenomenon that is more common than you might imagine
Father lies dying. The hospital is quiet. Visiting hours are over and the sun has long since set. Father has been sleeping off and on all day. His doctor says the end could come at any time. His wrinkled, sunken eyes open slowly. His breathing has been labored, but now it seems to ease and soften. His eyes track to a corner of the room where there is only a faded green vinyl chair. Father smiles.
"You're here," he whispers.
His daughter, determined to be with him in his final moments, takes his hand. "Yes, I'm here, dad," she says. But she knows he's not looking at her.
"No," father says, never taking his eyes off the corner of the room. "There. It's your uncle Jerome. I never thought I'd see him again."
The daughter glances to the corner, but of course sees nothing. Father seems coherent. In fact, she hasn't seen him so alert in days.
"Oh my!" Father's smile broadens. "And Lucille! And mother is with them! They- they say they have come to help me. They have come to take me with them. Can't you see them? They look so wonderful!"
The daughter wraps her father's hand in both of hers. She doesn't know what to think. Father closes his eyes again and the smile slowly fades from his lips. He releases one long, last breath... and is gone.
Such deathbed visions are not just the stuff of stories and movies. They are, in fact, more common than you might think and are surprisingly similar across nationalities, religions and cultures. Instances of these unexplained visions have been recorded throughout history and stand as one of the most compelling proofs of life after death.
Anecdotes of deathbed visions have appeared in literature and biographies throughout the ages, but it wasn't until the 20th century that the subject received scientific study. One of the first to examine the subject seriously was Sir William Barrett, a Professor of Physics at the Royal College of Science in
- It was not uncommon for the dying people who saw these visions to identify friends and relatives who they thought were still living. But in each case, according to Barrett, it was later discovered that these people actually were dead. (Remember, communications then wasn't what it is today, and it might take weeks or even months to learn that a friend or loved one had died.)
- Barrett found it curious that children quite often expressed surprise that the "angels" they saw in their dying moments did not have wings. If the deathbed vision is just a hallucination, wouldn't a child see an angel as it is most often depicted in art and literature - with large, white wings?
More extensive research into these mysterious visions was carried out in the 1960s and 1970s by Dr. Karlis Osis of the American Society for Psychical Research. In this research, and for a book he published in 1977 titled At the Hour of Death, Osis considered thousands of case studies and interviewed more than 1,000 doctors, nurses and others who attended the dying. The work found a number of fascinating consistencies:
- Although some dying people report seeing angels and other religious figures (and sometimes even mythical figures), the vast majority claim to see familiar people who had previously passed away.
- Very often, the friends and relatives seen in these visions express directly that they have come to help take them away.
- The dying person is reassured by the experience and expresses great happiness with the vision. Contrast this with the confusion or fear that a non-dying person would experience at seeing a "ghost." The dying also seem quite willing to go with these apparitions.
- The dying person's mood - even state of health - seems to change. During these visions, a once depressed or pain-riddled person is overcome with elation and momentarily relieved of pain... until death strikes.
- These experiencers do not seem to be hallucinating or to be in an altered state of consciousness; rather, they appear to be quite aware of their real surroundings and conditions.
- Whether or not the dying person believes in an afterlife is irrelevant; the experience and reactions are the same
Fact or Fantasy?
How many people have deathbed visions? This is unknown since only about 10 percent of dying people are conscious shortly before their deaths. But of this 10 percent, it is estimated, between 50 and 60 percent of them experience these visions. The visions only seem to last about five minutes and are seen mostly by people who approach death gradually, such as those suffering from life-threatening injuries or terminal illnesses.
So what are deathbed visions? How can they be explained? Are they hallucinations produced by dying brains? Delusions produced by drugs in the systems of the patients? Or could the visions of spirits be exactly what they appear to be: a welcome committee of deceased loved ones who have come to ease the transition to life on another plane of existence?
Could they be creations of the dying brain - a kind of self-induced sedative to ease the dying process? Although this is a theory offered by many in the scientific community, Wills-Brandon doesn't agree. "The visitors in the visions were often times deceased relatives who came to offer support to the dying person," she writes. "In some situations, the dying did not know these visitors were already dead." In other words, why would the dying brain only produce visions of people who are dead, whether the dying person knew they were dead or not?
And what about the effects of medication? "Many of the individuals who have these visions are not on medications and are very coherent," writes Wills-Brandon. "Those who are on medications also report these visions, but the visions are similar to those who are not on medications."
Best Evidence
We may never know whether these experiences are truly paranormal - that is, until we too pass from this life. But there is one aspect of some deathbed visions that is most difficult to explain and lends most credence to the idea that they are actual visitations of spirits from "the other side." On rare occasions, the spirit entities are seen not only by the dying patient, but also by the friends, relatives and others in attendance!
According to one case documented in the February, 1904 edition of Journal of the Society for Psychic Research, a deathbed apparition was seen by a dying woman, Harriet Pearson, and by three relatives who were in the room.
Two witnesses in attendance of a dying young boy independently claimed to see the spirit of his mother at his bedside.
How the Dying and Their Relatives Benefit
Whether the deathbed visions phenomenon is real or not, the experience is very often beneficial for the people involved. In his book , Melvin Morse writes that visions of a spiritual nature can empower dying patients, making them realize that they have something to share with others. Also, these visions dramatically lessen or completely remove the fear of dying in the patients and are enormously healing to the relatives.
Carla Wills-Brandon believes that deathbed visions can help change our overall attitude about death. "Many people today fear their own death and have difficulty handling the passing of loved ones," she says. "If we can recognize that death is nothing to fear, perhaps we will be able to live life with more fully. Knowing that death is not the end just might resolve some of our fear-based societal difficulties."
truth = humility
02.20.05 (5:00 am) [edit]I suppose that the virtue of humility misunderstood by many people, not by all by any means but enough to perhaps cause some serious trouble in our spiritual journey through life. I remember talking to a woman, a very devout Christian and what I would consider a classic beauty; dark haired, refined face and a very nice build and who dressed with real class (at least in my opinion). We are friends and one day when she was visiting my work place visiting the sick, I did remark on how beautiful she was. Being good friends she knew I was not flirting with her but simply making a comment. Her reaction surprised me since she blushed and seemed pained and tried to deny this “fact” of her beauty. Since we are friends I got a tad (a southern form of measurement) impatient with her and said: “Listen lady if God made you a rose and not a sunflower accept it and get over it. There is nothing wrong with being a classic beauty; to deny an obvious truth about yourself is not “humility” but a form of self-denial that is helpful to neither you nor anyone else”. I suppose that she thought people would think her “proud” if she admitted to her innate physical beauty. I understand that since I have my own problems with this in accepting my “good qualities”. I suppose that I don’t want to become too self-conscious about certain things about myself; which goes against humility.
It is easy for me to “down grade” myself it sorts of points to my own struggles with self acceptance about my higher qualities; hence my reacting to my friends doing the very same thing. It is easy for me to denigrate myself, sort of natural and so I have to work against it, not believe it, embrace it and move one. It sounds like a pat answer but it is not easy for me to do.
I suppose the whole point of love, true love of any kind from any one is simply a gift; a gift bestowed on someone like me who is very imperfect and as a Christian a “sinner”. I still have areas in my life that I still struggle with to turn over to God so to speak and it would be easy to simply give up and say what is the use. I suppose that comes from my lack of understanding of “infinite love” that has been revealed for me in Jesus Christ. Funny how easy it is to make God’s love less than the love that we often show to each other in our relationships on a daily basis. We forgive those we love, we know that they are not perfect, have weaknesses. We also know that are loved ones are good, beautiful and caring people; that is why we love them. The other parts about them we accept and even embrace since it is the combination of good and less good that draw us to each other.
So infinite love is the ultimate in grace, we are loved because we are lovable, and the most humble and the hardest thing for many of us (I am talking about Meeee-self here) is to simply make that a fact of life. Humility is experiencing that, and learning that God also loves “all” in the same manner but in a manner unique to each of us. Damm infinite love, an ocean of mercy and forgiveness surrounding us, traveling with us in the ups and downs of live, lifting us up when we are down. It is not easy to realize that God loves the worst of us, the most wicked in a manner that in inconceivable. and it is that knowledge that allows the desire of revenge and death will be taken away from me; not without struggle but something to be striven for. To be freed from that even a little is a great boon, since desires like that cause no manner of pain for all involved.
I think the parable of the “Prodigal Son” explains it all, at least for me. So humility allows me to accept myself, not to despair when this “truth” is not good news and to trust in the “truth” of God’s love, not just for me but for all no matter who they are or what they have done. There is the justice of God of course but I will leave that up to a judge who sees the depths of our hearts. We see the surface while God sees our deepest selves and still loves us and most of all has an infinite understanding of who we are and where we are coming from.
Below is something I picked up from the net on “true humility”.
In Book IV, section three, of the Nicomachean Ethics , Aristotle says that the humility is the via media between those who think of themselves inordinately and those who lack self-respect. The Greek word is saphronsyne. The only English word we have for it is magnanimous. Sometimes, it gets translated by the phrase "high-minded."
& nbsp; The point of his excursus on the subject is to suggest that true humility has an accurate self-appraisal. It implies a certain confidence. It implies a certain self-acceptance. It implies a character that is at home with one's self. It is the ability to be able to state the skills you have to the degree you have them. On the one hand, you can claim your gifts and you can appreciate the good that has come from their deployment.
& nbsp; On the other hand, it is a knowledge of your limits. It is not claiming credit for things you didn't have any effect over. The original virtue comes from two fields, the military and politics. Things happen in the middle of battle, unforeseen events and consequences. "High minded" soldiers accept the accolades of their peers for heroism in battle. And they also refuse to claim credit for turns in battle that just happened on their watch.
Peace
mitch
Life and aging
02.17.05 (4:09 pm) [edit]I took Bob to see a Psychologist yesterday for some test. His memory (short term) seems to be worse; also to check on his OCD. I was present for the first part of the test when they gave the first interview. They asked him some questions, and then asked me to fill in any blanks or to further enlighten them about why he was there and also how he was doing. Then he spent two hours with them doing all kinds of test so that they could ascertain the level of his mental status. It turned out that his short term memory is not all that good and that while he will do ok with doing routine task it would be good for instance not to change his routine to often.
When Bob was talking I was deeply impressed by how he was able to accept his diminishment not only with grace but even with a bit of humor thrown in. I have known for a long time, partly due to my work, that we are slowly as we age backed into a smaller and smaller corner and our freedoms taken away one by one by those who are responsible for our care; in other words we become like children again. For some it comes very late in life but for many it can be a slow process that covers many years. Working with the elderly has taken away much of my fear of growing old since I see how well many of the elderly that I take care of handle it. Granted it is not always pleasant (but whose life is) but there are still times of joy and pleasure that they experience and enjoy. Also while I have seen that most of the elderly, at least the ones I have taken care of do not fear death, though they still love life and are not interested in hastening their exit.
While their outer life may be diminished their inner life seems to flourish and many seem to have a deep and abiding relationship with God. Prayer is important for many of them, a deep quiet type of prayer which sustains them and gives them a lot of joy. Studies have shown that mystical experiences are not uncommon with those who are in their latter years.
We live in a culture were looking “under thirty” is considered a wise choice in living ones life. It is like we are trying to deny that we are truly pilgrims in this world and like it or not we are just passing through, and time is the train that we are all riding on….. we just have different stops along the way where we get off. I think we should take care of ourselves but the cult of youth in our country I feel has ruined a lot of lives. Women are supposed to look like they are in their 20’s or 30’s no matter their age; and the fashion styles are made only for those who have a certain type of body. Those who do not fit into this starved stereotype, feel inferior in some way or fat. I think beautiful women are the ones most trapped, since they feel that they have to continue to look “young” no matter how much time and energy it takes as they age.
Getting older is so much a part of life that I find it interesting that we spend so much money to look “youthful”. I have always found it distasteful to see older women and also men who try to hold on to a “youth” that is long gone and has served its purpose. What is wrong with middle age (?), or old age for that matter, why is it considered smart to deny this fact of life, is it not crazy? To live a healthy life style is not the same as the notion that we should die looking thirty years younger. We should be proud of our age. Age brings wisdom and deepens us in ways that youth does not have and brings with it a different kind of beauty. Youth is great but it has its place and then must be left go of. I am not talking about becoming rigid or “set in ones ways” but in simply accepting the realities of life and to embrace it.
While I know that death is not that far for me and that the hopefully 30 or so years I have left (if I am lucky) will fly by faster than the preceding years, it has only made me appreciate life more and to accept my mortality, and also the mortality of those that I love. I don’t take people for granted anymore and this has deepened the joy that I get from my friendships, even as I learn not to cling.
When I revisit my “youth” it seems like another life to me since I am so much more than the 23 year old man that I have memories of. I would not go back a single year since life is sweeter for me now, and what I focus on is based on what I want or need and not on what the culture around me tries to either tell me or sell me... I think we are bombarded so much by advertising, shallow magazines etc that I think most of us are “brain washed” and our lives can reflect that, since we are immersed in an ocean of noise pollution that makes self reflection very difficult.
We are called upon to develop what is important to our soul growth. To deepen our connection not only with God but just as importantly with our fellow men and women, and to grow in compassion and empathy, not only towards ourselves but towards all. We are called to love not only our friends but also those with whom we have the most trouble. Just think how different life would be if it was believed that every man, woman and child no matter what they have become, or what they have done, are loved infinitely by the Father of lights. To also to honor the elderly and to be thankful for the lives that they have lived and to also listen to them and see how beautiful they really are instead of placing them (as many do) in nursing homes and then forget them. Sometimes we need to place our loved ones in homes so that they can get the care they need, but to make them dumping grounds is a real loss to the families who do such things.
Peace
mitch
As I get older
02.15.05 (8:04 pm) [edit]As I get older I am more comfortable questioning what I believe and why. It is not that the questions I am asking are new to me it is that I am getting freer in allowing them to surface so I can look at them. There are certain things about my Christian faith that I really do not understand and am trying to grow in my faith by trying to be honest in my pursuit for truth.
Karl Rahner, a Catholic theologian once used this analogy about truth; he stated that if truth were a glacier a 100 miles deep then the church has only begun to scratch the surface in understanding that truth. I have often wondered if that is true and the Church really believes that, why does it (the church) speak in terms that are so “sure of its self”; like this is it, so believe it. I do think that it is necessary for spirituality and religion to work together since religion by itself becomes rigid, and from my experience spirituality without religion, or some kind of tradition, tends to become either rootless or shallow or both at times. However I do not think that religion for an individual who is serious about the spiritual life, can afford to just lock step so to speak with what the church teaches without study and questioning. Not to do that is to have an immature faith that can be easily shaken if challenged by someone outside the tradition. This fear of doubt leads to being defensive and fearful of anything alien to ones faith and can lead to abusive behavior; something not uncommon by any means. I suppose if I lived in a country where everyone held to the same faith then a cultural faith could be a good thing since the need to question may never come up. However in a culture like the one I live in (USA) with many different traditions and beliefs, and with those who have no beliefs at all in the transcendent, then it is important to deepen ones knowledge of the tradition that holds the faith professed. Thinking for oneself, if thoughtful should never be feared or rejected.
I suppose so much criticism comes from some sort of reaction from the past, or simply based on stereotypes that are accepted without question, is dangerous since they are to general and therefore false. It is easy to poke holes in another’s faith or lack of, but it takes maturity and intelligence to give a fair hearing to the opposing party without sinking into snide or childish remarks. It really makes a fool of the one who uses this kind of approach in debate with another. Of course there are clubs (yahoo groups is one) were this kind of thing is encouraged; all you have to do is go to some Christian clubs, or perhaps to some clubs for atheist and you get this kind of childish behavior all the time. I suppose it is good for some since venting with others who think like you can be cathartic since it is important to feel heard. The problem is when these web ghettos really believe what they are posting as objective truth. I do not think any belief system can be summed up by using only negative statements since people (and what they believe) are to complex and unique to box in that way.
I have found however that if I give a respectful listening I for the most part also get a respectful hearing in return. I suppose it is important not to try to convince anyone since that is impossible anyway but to simply say “this is what I believe” and don’t worry about what other will think. They will think what they want……I think what I want and I doubt that it hurts anyone’s faith or lack of.
I am sorry if this post rambles but I am tired and really want to post “something”.
Peace
mitch
Religion good and bad(?); a rant of sorts
02.13.05 (9:10 am) [edit]Religion good or bad (?); a rant of sorts
I am often surprised at the narrow and even simplistic notions that people have of religion. It is of course popular today to denigrate religion as either evil or narrow or both. Of course such criticisms do have some truth to them since religions are made up of people and not angels, with all the weaknesses and evils that go with it. The problem is that when judgments get narrow and rigid they almost always come from either those who have had some really bad experiences in said religion and have some serious issues with the treatment they received, either from the clergy or the people in general. Granted religion can be hurtful since as a tool it can be misused and abusive just like anything else that we humans get involved in. The valid judgments tend to come from those inside any one religion who have the courage to speak up out of love even if they know they will get into trouble and misunderstood. Prophets are often killed but the seeds they plant take root and grow.
I am catholic and I am aware of the dark history of my Church and of the evils that it is guilty of, and I am also aware of the good it has done, and of the deep wisdom it has accumulated over the centuries; in other words it is a mixed bag. I suppose it comes from the notion that some “others” are supposed to be better than the rest of us without all the weaknesses that we are all aware of in ourselves if we have any degree of self-awareness, and for some reason want to believe that there are people who are better or perfect; in other words better than we are. I suppose the quote from the psalms is true……”put not your trust in Man from whom there is no salvation”…….in other words don’t look to others for your support if it is unrealistic and really very adolescent.
I think religion is funny at times. A person can be a “practical atheist” for say 40 years and then one day receive Jesus or join some other religious group after a deep conversion, and this person who probably never gave much thought to God, grace and where this leads; who never read or studied scripture etc., suddenly over night becomes an expert in all thing spiritual and scriptural…..indeed a strange thing. Such people if they don’t grow also do a lot of damage. The bible becomes a weapon in which they can fashion a hammer and beat people over the head with it and then wonder why they don’t do much good.
Maturity in ones faith is essential and if that does not happen you will have other wise intelligent people who have the faith of a fourth grader; great for the fourth grader but pathetic in an adult. There is a paradox in faith at least there is for me. As I get older and my faith deepens I am better able to embrace mystery and doubt in my life; ready to even say “hey I could be wrong”. That is based on the fact that we all have our faiths and beliefs and they all can’t be right, at least on the surface. I have found that I can talk to anybody from any faith or religion and feel at home with them if we talk on the level of experience, prayer and the meaning of life. Doctrine does not come into it unless I am asked and we can talk about that. I am not ashamed of my faith but I think I should give the same respect to others as I would like for myself.
I don’t think any religion owns God and being catholic I have learned to think for myself as I make my faith journey through life because if I do not think for myself then the church will be more than happy to think for me. We are called upon to love, to stop the cycle of violence and evil that has seemed to have such a strong grip on the world and it is sad that religion is the cause of much of that. I suppose we are still primitive and tribal and we tend to make “God” into a tribal deity just like the Jews did (and all the peoples then) when they went to war with their “God” against all the other “Gods” and did a lot of slaughtering.
If God is infinite intelligence and love then I would suppose we are a long way off from even beginning to understand what that love means or even what that intelligence is up to. Like
Bob, Edmund and other stuff
02.12.05 (7:06 am) [edit]Things have been very hectic at the work place the last couple of weeks. The ice storm allowed me to have the privilege of being able to work for 36 hours straight since the other shifts could not get in because of the icy roads. Luckily our generator was in good shape since we lost power for 20 of the 36 hours. It was not that bad since those of us there (a skeleton) crew worked at a slower pace and that made the whole place more relaxed almost festive believe it or not. I guess people just become more conscious of the need to work as a team when things get a little rough.
Placid got mad at me three days ago when I told him that it was not save for us to attempt to place him on the commode because of his weakness; something that he did not want to hear. He is continuing to get weaker because of kidney failure and getting to the point were his “proquid” (?) shots will not do him much good. The proquid keeps his blood count up and that lessens the need to have to take him to the hospital for blood transfusions. We have talked to him about taking dialysis but he refuses since he does not want to follow the very strict regime that he will have to be on regarding food and liquid. The dialysis is also grueling since it would entail three trips a week to the center for his dialysis and that takes 4 hours per visit. The trip is also very difficult since he would have to go in most likely by stretcher at least in the beginning and then later by wheelchair, by a non-emergency ambulance. He is 83 and tired so he seems to be ready to go; at least at this time. I am torn about it since he is a great guy and I have grown quite fond of him, but in my line of work goodbyes are part of the job, though it is not always easy.
Edmund and Bob were listening to “Billy Holiday” on the CD player and they both started dancing to the music, Edmund danced with his wheel chair and Bob with his walker; quite a site both funny and very beautiful. Edmund in his younger years played the Violin and he loves Jazz; Billy Holiday being his favorite singer….and mine to truth be told. Bob has always been a ham and this has keep his spirit young. He is always breaking into some song or another and everyone enjoys it, lightens up the place.
Yesterday I was taking a break and I put on Billy Holiday and Edmund came up to me his eyes wide and feeling some deep powerful emotion and crying and he started stinging summertime to me; I was touched profoundly since I knew that he was reliving some deep moving memories from the past….such is the gift of music. He is a very quiet man but music turns him into a real extrovert and he is not the least bit shy about showing how it touches him.
Bob is doing better with his OCD since I am talking to him about how much energy it takes for me to do his rituals and he does not have the energy to continue doing that. Luckily he will allow me to but limits on his activity and this seems to help. We have certain times at night that we get him up and then only allow him to wash his hands and put him right back to bed. He is sleeping better now and has more energy; we however are going to up some of his meds and that should help also.
One thing I have learned in working with the elderly, they have a lot to teach us younger people, also that in their souls they are young and they grave love and respect just as much as those not yet in their old age due. They also have profound spiritual insights and experiences that they will share often but it is these experiences that keep them going. Being old only makes the elder weaker in body and sometimes in mind but they are just like us. Here I am 56 and I still think I am only 18 or 20 in my soul.
Oh on funny thing that happened to me yesterday in Publix. I was doing some shopping and was unloading my “stuff” on to the conveyor belt when I suddenly realized that an older woman was trying to get my attention; I was moving in on her stuff. I was so embarrassed and told her how sorry I was. She looked at me, smiled, and said thats ok “darling” I have one at home, in fact I have had him for 52 years; I had to laugh. I helped her put the rest of her food items on the belt. She was so gracious a true southern Belle.
Peace
mitch
communication
02.07.05 (6:58 pm) [edit]Communication is so hard that sometimes I wonder why I even bother to try, but try we all must in order to learn how to listen and talk to each other. Tonight I was talking to one of the Nurses that work with me and she was telling me that she feels that she is not trusted or looked upon as competent in her work; something I know to be false. I tried to let her know that she is respected and looked up to by the staff but I don’t think it did much good; in fact I think I did harm by even trying to talk to her.
There seems to be such a divide between people, and the bridges that need to be built that will be able bring understanding, are very difficult to build and sometimes I feel that I am so clumsy that I should stop trying since little good seems to come from it.
It is hard I guess to break the habit of certain trains of thought and to try to be objective about them. Even if this is done the emotion