American Gospel

Have you ever read a book that seems like a simple extension of all that you know already, yet it ties together all the threads in a way you'd never seen? For me, Jon Meacham's newest book, American Gospel: God, the Founding Fathers, and the Making of a Nation, is such a book.

Meacham, who also authored the amazing Franklin and Winston and still has time to be managing editor of Newsweek, makes a reasoned and researched case for religious freedom in America. He shows not only that we need it, but that we've always had it. Since Day One, the founders of this nation incorporated freedom of belief into the very fabric of the American dream.

The book traces the history of America's relationship with faith through the Founding Fathers, the Civil War, World Wars I & II, Civil Rights, and more recently the Christian Right. Despite this breadth, it's a fast, engaging read.

It's the kind of book where you find yourself marking passages as you go. Here are some that I marked:

The great good news about America—the American gospel, if you will—is that religion shapes the life of the nation without strangling it. Belief in God is central to the country's experience, yet for the broad center, faith is a matter of choice, not coercion, and the legacy of the Founding is that the sensible center holds.

Extremism is a powerful alliance of fear and certitude; complexity and humility are its natural foes. Faith and life are essentially mysterious, for neither God nor nature is easily explained or understood. Crusades are for the weak, literalism for the insecure.

Properly understood, both religion and America were forged through compromise and negotiation. They are works in progress, open to new interpretation, amendment, and correction. … In either case, the story is about moving forward, through the darkness, searching for light.

[W]hat kind of God was so weak he needed the authorities of the colony of Virginia, or of Massachusetts, or of Connecticut, or any other to prop him up? "It is error alone which needs the support of government," Jefferson said, "Truth can stand by itself." Franklin agreed: "When a religion is good, I conceive that it will support itself; and, when it cannot support itself, and God does not take care to support [it], so that its professors are obliged to call for help of the civil power, it is a sign, I apprehend, of its being a bad one."

The extremes, while colorful and quotable, were just that: the extremes. The line most people seem to draw is one of grace and civility. No one should be forced, as a matter of routine, to participate in (or even have to choose not to participate in, by leaving a classroom) a religious exercise that makes him uncomfortable.

"We are tied together in a single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality," [Martin Luther] King said. "And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. For some strange reason, I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. This is the way God's universe is made; this is the way it is structured."

A grasp of history is essential for Americans of the center who struggle to decide how much weight to assign a religious consideration in a public matter. To fail to consult the past consigns us to what might be called the tyranny of the present—the mistaken idea that the crises of our own time are unprecedented and that we have to solve them without experience to guide us. Subject to such tyranny, we are more likely to take a narrow or simplistic view, or to let our passions get the better of our reason. If we know, however, how those who came before us found the ways and means to surmount the difficulties of their age, we stand a far better chance of acting in the moment with perspective and measured judgment. Light can neither enter into nor emanate from a closed mind.

I found, as I read, that I am very comfortable being part of the broad center. I believe with James Madison, "Whilst we assert for ourselves a freedom to embrace, to profess and observe the religion which we believe to be of divine origin, we cannot deny an equal freedom to those whose minds have not yet yielded to the evidence which has convinced us."

Yep, Madison took the words right out of my mouth. So while I may share with you what I've learned from my own journey, I'll never try to dissuade you from your own honest convictions. That's the American way.

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A patchwork quilt of inspiration

On this, my first full day of Laura-time (son at camp, daughter in Europe), I just want to share some words that have inspired me this week in my own spiritual travels.

From an address by Mary Baker Eddy in her work Miscellaneous Writings:

Do we yet understand how much better it is to be wronged, than to commit wrong? … May God give unto us all that loving sense of gratitude which delights in the opportunity to cancel accounts.

--Misc. Wr. p. 130 and 131

I can't claim to be totally living up to the standard she sets there, but it is an inspiring goal that I'm holding close.

Through toil, struggle, and sorrow, what do mortals attain? They give up their belief in perishable life and happiness; the mortal and material return to dust, and the immortal is reached.

--Science and Health

I love that passage, because it clarifies for me what I think the point of mortal struggle is. Why do bad things happen? So that we give up our belief in the perishable and embrace the immortal. There is no other reason for it. We're not being punished, we're not bringing it on ourselves—we just need to give up mortality, and the only way we'll do it is if mortality sucks. So… yay that it sucks. I do find that spiritual invigorating.

A little on the wilderness:

WILDERNESS. Loneliness; doubt; darkness. Spontaneity of thought and idea; the vestibule in which a material sense of things disappears, and spiritual sense unfolds the great facts of existence.

--Science and Health

for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert. And the parched ground shall become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water: in the habitation of dragons, where each lay, shall be grass with reeds and rushes. And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called The way of holiness;

--Isaiah

I've always had a tender place in my heart for spiritual wilderness—the wanderings we do to try to find ourselves and find meaning. And the Bible is assuring us that even in that wandering time, we're being watered. In the end, our wandering path itself becomes the highway that leads us to holiness. So let us wander as we need; we are being cared for, and the way is opening up.

And just this last thing, because I have a presentation to give today:

Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.

--Psalms

Hope this quilt of ideas is a comforter you can wrap in for the weekend. Have a great one, stay cool!

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Day of gratitude

Today is just all about gratitude for the one thing that has shaped my life—Christian Science.

My son's camp posts photos of camper activities, and although I've gotten no phone or snail mail acknowledgement that he actually arrived there, I now have photo evidence. He looks like he's having a great time.

And I'm blown away with gratitude. This camp meant the world to me when I was a kid. I went for twelve summers, and my son is halfway to that point now. Just seeing him in that environment—posting pictures is a great innovation!—brings me back to all the lessons I learned there and how they continue to strengthen my spiritual connection.

It's a Christian Science camp, and there's a real wholesome joy that runs through the place. I remember striving to work out my own life individually in the face of the world's call, but then going back to camp each year for a refresher in what living the truths of Christian Science every minute could feel like, with people who were also living that truth.

So, while I don’t often do this, today is a plug for living the life. Christian Science is 100% positive, gives you total dominion, brings out your best selfhood, fills your days with joy. I owe everything I've accomplished and any peace I've achieved to its teachings.

I don't thank God often enough for the sheer magnitude of the impact Mary Baker Eddy's discovery has had on my life. So thanks for bearing with me—today is that day of gratitude.

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"It could happen!"

Angels in the Outfield—great movie. Saw it on DVD last night. The arm-flapping scene at the end always makes me cry.

It's the story of a young boy looking for a family. His dad says he'll come back and get him "when the Angels win the Pennant," as in baseball. The boy then prays for divine help so the Los Angeles Angels team will win the Pennant that year. And lo and behold, actual angels appear on the field (only to the boy) to help the players go down in baseball history.

They make it to the last game before winning, but then the angels pull out, saying even angels can't decide things like the Pennant—it has to be up to the players. And it's the boy's youthful belief in them that gets the players through. By the end, you see that throughout, the real point was for the boy to find a family.

*Sniff.*

The boy's sidekick, a sweet little fellow with unending faith, has a mantra of, "It could happen!" He says it whenever he's wishing for something beyond the pale. I realized I picked up that phrase from the movie when I saw it long ago. I go around saying, "It could happen!" myself in moments when I need encouragement.

Faith, like hope, is one of those essential stepping stones to spiritual understanding. Faith is the conviction that there's something more going on than what our physical senses tell us. "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

And I think we forget what life would be like if all we ever believed was what our senses were telling us right this moment. There's a heat wave in the United States right now, yet we have faith that cooler times are coming. If we just believed our senses, we'd think this heat would last forever. Sure, we have prior memory of cooler times, but looking to the future with confidence that the heat will break is a statement of faith.

Our senses tell us that we've just argued with a loved one, but faith assures us that the relationship isn't over. Our senses tell us that we're facing an illness, but faith comforts us with the promise of healing. Faith allows us to imagine a better outcome not told by the senses, and helps us take the first steps to realize this outcome.

Call it optimism, call it buoyancy, call it expectation, call it "looking on the bright side"—whatever you call it, cultivate it. Start each elevation of the human situation with the bright conviction, "It could happen!" See the promise—then realize it.

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Letter to my son at camp

(Perhaps I'll write this here, where he'll never see it.)

Dear Son,

Well, you finally made it there! After weeks of anticipation, you finally got on that plane and headed south. You were polite about saying goodbye to me, even let me hug you at the airport, but I could see your mind was on the adventure to come. And it made me glad.

This mother/son thing has always been amazing to me. There's an interesting tension between wanting to hold you close and wanting to see you fly. I'm realizing now that all the times I've been afraid for you, I've never been right. You've always been fine.

You're more than a little on your way now. Taller than me now, deeper voiced, with facial hair and the musculature of a man. Such an astonishing transition, which is really just the unfoldment of who you really are.

I guess (and I always knew this really) you never were actually that little baby boy. That was just the barest inkling of your complete identity. That adorable blue-eyed cuddly one was just a part you played, a character written for you by this appearance of mortal reality. Now there's so much more of you to enjoy, to talk with, to admire. Yet, even that is just an inkling of the man you'll become, and that too just scratches the surface of the spiritual identity created by the Divine.

You are divinely created. I'm so grateful I can't claim to be your creator, for heck, what did I know? I wouldn't have known how to begin to evolve someone as amazing as you. But God knew. God knows every detail of His creation of you, down to the last iota of goodness and grace. He knows who you are, and delights in you. God and I stand together, thrilled with who you are and the life you have.

I hope you'll always tell me your stories. I hope I always have a front row seat at your life. I won't get in your way. I'll just watch, and love.

Love,

Mom

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I once met a guy…

As promised, another morality tale.

While I was going through a grocery line in LA (in my much younger days), the guy in line in front of me struck up a conversation and gave me his card. He seemed nice enough, and meeting someone at the grocery story had a kind of "Hollywood" feel to it, so later I emailed him to say hello.

We went out a few times. He had a lot of money to flash around and took me to some very nice restaurants. And from what he said, he had a glamorous, exciting life. He mentioned some famous relatives, a job he was doing for fun because he didn't need to work, a life history of travel and adventure, even how he was able to park anywhere because he had diplomatic immunity. He told me a lot of this was secret, though, so I shouldn't tell my friends about him until we'd known each other longer.

I just listened and nodded and smiled because this was outside my experience and I was just interested. And he was a nice enough guy, although kind of physically suggestive and aggressive.

Okay, I was naïve. And I shudder to think now what could have happened if I had approached this in any other way. But I had by then made a commitment to chastity.

Mary Baker Eddy writes, "Chastity is the cement of civilization and progress. Without it there is no stability in society, and without it one cannot attain the Science of Life."

When I was a kid, I did *not* understand what she was talking about, so I just did my own thing. Years of hard experience taught me, however, that for me anyway, she was dead-on correct.

I looked up chastity at one point, and discovered it's not celibacy (which I thought it was). It's not the entire rejection of sexual desire. It is keeping sexuality within legal limits, i.e., fidelity when married, abstinence when not married. And without chastity, my life had become increasingly unstable. Once I hit a wall and changed my ways, I gained more stability.

Now, at the point where I met this guy, stability was the norm and I was enjoying it. I also was striving to "attain the Science of Life," which to me included learning how to heal spiritually. I earnestly yearned to be a healer, and was applying myself assiduously to this course of study.

So I told him early on there would be no sex any time soon (although he kept trying). But it never even occurred to me to waver. I'd just laugh it off and be at least happy he found me attractive.

I did as he asked and refrained from telling my friends about him, but I did tell the one best friend a girl could ever have—a wise and protective mom. My mother, who is very well read, knew about some of the famous people he mentioned and some of the history he claimed to have happened. And she very quickly ascertained that most of what he was telling me were the biggest whoppers ever.

She broke it to me gently. When I emailed him about it, saying hey, he didn't have to make up stuff for me to like him, I liked him anyway, he just wrote back in a huff saying I'd broken my word to him not to tell anyone and that was that. End of a story that could have been much messier.

How did I feel? I felt protected. By Mom, of course, but also by the standard I'd adopted. I suddenly saw morality as a protection that allows freedom, not a straightjacket that denies it. I was free to move through the world however I wanted as long as I stayed protected with the armor of morality. Sleeping with that guy would have been a disaster; not sleeping with him made the whole thing just a learning experience.

I also learned it wasn't what he did or didn't do that could harm me. It was what I did myself. Now I know—it's my own conduct that keeps me safe.

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Lies of omission

I got some interesting responses to the blog entry about lying the other day, if you haven't seen them, check them out. I love Emily's second response especially, thanks chica!

There's another form of lying I do take great exception to, and that's lies of omission. Where we felt like we've been lied to, but no words were spoken.

When I worked at the investment banking firm in LA, every now and then I'd see this cute guy in the elevator. One time, in the morning on the way up, I was talking to a co-worker about our 3am work night the night before, and this cute guy turned to me and said, "You look too good to have been here until 3am." Our relationship warmed up after that.

Turned out he was an entertainment lawyer at the office down the hall. He flirted with me every time he saw me from then on, and my surreptitious glances at his hand showed he had no ring on. So I began casually suggesting we go to lunch. And eventually he took me up on it.

Lunch started off promising, he was clearly communicating interest. We talked about our kids and our life history, etc. Then I asked him, "So, how long have you been divorced?" And he said, "Oh, I'm still married."

Argh! Okay, I *felt* like I'd been lied to, but of course he'd never said he wasn't married. He told me the whole sob story about how they'd grown apart but were staying together for the kids. And suddenly I was counseling him on his marriage rather than having the date I wanted.

Very slick. We stayed "friends," more or less, although I always had to be on my guard because I had this vague feeling he was trying to talk me into something, although again, he never did so in so many words. Eventually our friendship ended when he said, "You have too many rules." Um, yeah, right, I don't date married men, sorry.

This experience was a huge lesson to me. Thankfully, it didn't make me paranoid, but it did put me more on my guard about men I met. It also taught me the value of being up front, of making your status clear so there's no misunderstanding. Keeping your status vague for your own benefit—to keep your options open, so to speak—is wrong because it can hurt people. Maybe not a huge spiritual lesson, but a definite moral one. I've learned a lot of moral lessons through trial-and-error.

Next week I'll tell a story about being protected when a prospective romance outright lied to me. (You may ask, where do I meet these guys?)

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The wisdom of children

A few weeks ago, I served at a booth at the Concert on the Green in our town. We were giving away free lemonade and candy, so we were mobbed by kids.

A seven-year-old boy and his older sister approached. She had, "Girls Rule" on her T-shirt, so my booth co-worker commented on it and then turned to her brother to ask what he thought. "Do girls really rule?" he asked.

The boy took one look at his sister's outfit, then shot back at us, "Never listen to shirts."

Appreciative laughter from the grownups! I told him I was writing that down, and he solemnly watched me to make sure I got it right. (Then we went off on a riff about "never trust a bunny" from Hoodwinked—a fun movie for rental if you haven't seen it.)

What is it about kids that makes them so clear and to the point? Contrary to the belief that they're often naïve or uninformed, some of the kids I know are more savvy than most adults. So I find myself less wanting to shelter them and more wanting to learn from them. I like to hear what they have to say, because their very freshness can bring a startling realization my more jaded eyes would miss.

I often think of kids when I read this passage from Science and Health: "Man is God's reflection, needing no cultivation, but ever beautiful and complete." We start out complete. Once created, fully formed. What God initiates, He completes.

So these kids right in front of us are complete now. They need nothing added to them. They have all that God gave them. And they have something we lack, due to their short span of time on this earth. They have a fresh perspective.

It's almost as though we know too much. I know I'm guilty of this. I investigate, prod, devour and assimilate a lot of information about the material universe in my curiosity and thirst for knowledge. A lot if it will most likely have to be unlearned as materiality dissolves for me and I achieve a higher spiritual resonance.

So I love talking with kids because they bring me right back to what's important. They understand love and hurt feelings, fair play and naughtiness. They know how to settle conflict with a moment of sharing and how to comfort tears with a hug.

I know you all have "words of wisdom from kids" stories, please share them here! How have the children in your life taught you?

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The toothpaste story

Kim reminded me of this story the other day, and I could have sworn I'd blogged about it already but couldn't find it anywhere. I know I've written about it somewhere. Anyway, here it is again, and if you've heard it already, forgive me!

It was one of those times I was petrified. When I thought, My God, what have I done?

The kids and I lived in Santa Monica, California, at the time, and I had the highest paying job I'd ever had. Even still, though, with two kids and So-Cal cost-of-living, we were just getting by. Then, my firm had lay-offs. Through a series of circumstances, I thought it was right to volunteer to be laid off.

This was a Thursday. On Friday, I found myself out of a job and at home for the first time in five years. The reality of the situation started to sink in first thing in the morning, and trembling, I got up to start the day. My biggest concern was money. How would we survive?

The last several months, though, I'd devoted to stepping up my spiritual regimen. All my free time, along with down times at work, had been oriented toward spiritual study and prayer. I'd gained many significant spiritual insights and had been transformed from one who prayed only in a crisis to one who prayed for the sheer joy of it. I felt closer to divine Love than I ever had before.

The spiritual insights were almost like a bank account, and I'd been making deposits every day. The great thing about a spiritual bank account is that even when you spend your spirituality, the account doesn't get any smaller. In fact, the more you use it, the larger it gets. By practicing what I was learning, my spiritual reservoir was actually growing.

So that morning, as I stood at my sink getting ready for the day, I thought about what I'd been learning. I relaxed slightly, and felt a growing sense of trust. And then the moment came that has truly stayed with me in all the lean times since then.

I looked at the toothpaste tube in my hand. It was nearly full. I thought, "Hey, at least I don't have to buy toothpaste for a while." I thought of the full gallon of milk in the fridge downstairs. I thought of the full tank of gas in my car. I thought of our closets full of clothes and all the furniture we had. I began to feel rich.

I thought, "I have everything I need *today*. Why am I doubting I'll have all I need tomorrow?"

This startling declaration of trust turned me around. My confidence that all would be well grew in that moment, and colored my decisions and actions thereafter.

Well, obviously, we did survive. One day at a time, our needs were met, both through my own earnings and through generous help from friends and family. I've been encouraged to continue in that spiritual path as it blossomed beyond my own life to helping others with prayer.

Never ask for tomorrow: it is enough that divine Love is an ever-present help; and if you wait, never doubting, you will have all you need every moment.

--Mary Baker Eddy

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Good lies?

A recent CNN article on lying caught my attention the other day. It seemed to be an extension of the blog entry I wrote the other week about things being sinful due to context rather than in an absolute way. Please read the CNN article and then come back here—I found it impossible to excerpt. (It’s a quick read.)

It’s really making me think. I’ve been known to be a stickler about lying. On the one hand, I’m fanatical about ensuring that the words that pass my lips are 100% honest. On the other hand, though, I’ve become somewhat of a master of spin. So there’s a lot of words that *don’t* pass my lips. I may think them, but I don’t say them. Is that lying? Is that wrong?

I definitely don’t appreciate these kinds of verbal “sins of omission” if someone does it to me, especially family or close friends. But on the other hand, I’m often grateful to find out afterward that someone spared my feelings or purposely made my day less stressful.

A few years back, my 16- and 12-year-old kids were packing to go to camp (a scene that’s soon to be repeated this weekend). I had gotten them everything they needed the week before, and now they were supposed to be dutifully filling up their duffle bags. It was late Friday night; the plane was early Saturday.

Going down my son’s list, I discovered that one essential, hard-to-get item was missing. Frazzled and exhausted, I confess I got pretty darn angry. I was in the middle of my tirade when his older sister piped up, “I found it!”

Ah. I settled down, and then just left them to finish up their packing. As far as I know, they made it through camp fine, whether or not they had everything.

It turned out later that my daughter had given her item to her brother to keep me from going ballistic. She knew she’d have a chance to get a replacement since she wasn’t going straight to camp that year but was visiting family first. So, she just handled it.

And I’m only grateful. I’m also impressed with her presence of mind, and her love for all concerned. She frankly deceived me, but I think she stood up for a greater good.

So… Lying. It’s against a commandment, that’s for sure: “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.” But even that sets up a context—you shouldn’t lie to harm someone else. Lying to help someone… does that work? Perhaps not if it hurts a third person, but if the circumstances are right, who knows?

There’s a well-known sentence in Science and Health: “Honesty is spiritual power. Dishonesty is human weakness, which forfeits divine help.” And that sounds pretty absolute—not a lot of wiggle room there. But, in the name of context, I’d like to share the entire paragraph.

Teach your student that he must know himself before he can know others and minister to human needs. Honesty is spiritual power. Dishonesty is human weakness, which forfeits divine help. You uncover sin, not in order to injure, but in order to bless the corporeal man; and a right motive has its reward. Hidden sin is spiritual wickedness in high places. The masquerader in this Science thanks God that there is no evil, yet serves evil in the name of good.

It’s worthy of note that the statement about honesty is associated with a paragraph about knowing yourself and fighting sin. So, perhaps the worst form of dishonesty is when we’re fooling ourselves, and letting ourselves off the hook for wrongdoing through self-justification or rationalization. There’s no excuse for this kind of lying.

But using words to harm others, even if they’re honest, is also wrong. I’ve had to learn the difference between being honest and being blunt, between stating the bald facts and considering people’s feelings. I’ve had to learn how to package an unpleasant message with loving commentary, and how to keep back details that would only add fuel to the flame. And I know by definition I’m only seeing things from my own perspective, so in the end, how completely accurate can I ever be?

So it’s a tricky thing. In the end, and what I think the CNN article is saying people are okay with, lies that help or comfort are acceptable. It’s lies that harm that need to be scrupulously avoided. And I’d add to that self-deception covering character weaknesses that need to be overcome.

Or am I on a slippery slope here?

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Even in mourning, good doesn't change

I’ve heard of some unfortunate passings lately, and then I found this Letter to a Mourning Friend on Sharon’s blog. An excerpt:

Even in your grief, if you pay close attention you will see the signs that love still abounds about you; and that the love you felt has been transformed into something even more lovely and long-lasting. …

It is always an upward progression. Nothing is ever lost.

There’s lots in life we could mourn. Loved ones leaving us, jobs ending, losing our homes, destruction in the news. Change. Sometimes even good changes can lead to a sense of disorientation as we leave behind the old and embrace the new.

But Sharon has hit on what I think of as an undeniable spiritual principle. The good is never lost. The spiritual essence of the person or the place or the activity cannot end, for it’s sourced in Spirit. Spirit and its elements fill all space. You can’t be separated from that good, even if the outward expression of it changes.

I’m thinking deeply about this because I have a change coming up quite soon. It’s possible that both my children will be away at school in the fall, leaving me as an empty-nester four years earlier than I expected. In many ways I’m looking forward to it, yet I also know there will be an adjustment. And the question of “Who am I without the kids?” looms in the back of my mind whenever I think about it.

Yet the void that they fill in my heart will still be filled by Spirit. If I’m not loving them face-to-face, I still can do so in my prayers. And I can expect that love to find expression throughout my days, with the other people I meet. I don’t need to stop loving just because they’re gone. There are always plenty of people to love if you let yourself.

So I will try, as Sharon recommends, to pay close attention to see the opportunities for love around me. To honor my love for them with a widened, more expansive love for others. To not let sadness or loneliness seep in, but to fill my soul with Spirit’s grace.

“Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.” Perhaps that’s how it works—we are comforted when we know that even when things change, the goodness remains the same.

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Believe in the power of Love—and soccer

This has been an interesting week. We went from World Cup glory to commuter rail bombings to a shooting war across a volatile borderline. So perhaps it’s fitting that a cricket player in India is bringing the most wisdom to the debate.

This from The Times of India: Sachin urges countrymen to believe in the power of love

Excerpt:

[Cricketer] Sachin Tendulkar on Thursday hailed the spirit of Indian people, which he said has helped the country quickly overcome the devastating serial blasts in Mumbai, and urged his countrymen to believe in the power of love.

"It was extremely unfortunate, so many innocent lives were lost. But it has also shown the strength of our Indian people. People were back to work on the same trains the very next day," Tendulkar said.

"This is the strength of Bharat (India), to help each other in difficult times. When we do this, our strength grows, our love for each other grows.

"We have seen people helping others whom they have not known before, giving them water and food. These things happen rarely outside India.

"We have to keep helping each other, it will only strengthen our bonding."

Here’s another story from Newsweek where soccer is actually a metaphor for international relations.

The Pickup Game as a Model for Peace? Sure, there are fouls and penalties, but the spirit of the soccer match brings all races together.

Excerpt:

Over the centuries, there have been many utopian schemes for world peace, now mostly consigned to the ash heap of history, but soccer offers a vision of how such a world order might actually work. There are none of the vague platitudes you hear at UNESCO conferences; the sport allows for plenty of competition; it's not just about love and brotherhood, as witnessed by the recent World Cup. People push, shove and sometimes foul. They want to win. But they must subordinate even the fiercest rivalries to the game itself. If a fight breaks out, the game stops. No one wants that.

I just have to quote a familiar passage today, as I prepare for a weekend of CNN-watching and prayer:

One infinite God, good, unifies men and nations; constitutes the brotherhood of man; ends wars; fulfils the Scripture, "Love thy neighbor as thyself;" annihilates pagan and Christian idolatry, — whatever is wrong in social, civil, criminal, political, and religious codes; equalizes the sexes; annuls the curse on man, and leaves nothing that can sin, suffer, be punished or destroyed.

--Science and Health

And I may need to add soccer ("football") and cricket to my viewing schedule.

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Don’t react to the temporary

I had another experience with my dad (wrote about him earlier this week) that taught me about personality, and this lesson I’ve applied in many many situations.

At one point in our relationship, those quirky tendencies of his really bothered me. Everybody has weird things that they do, I guess, and my dad’s assortment would just get under my skin. I loved him, but it was like fingernails on a chalkboard to be around him sometimes.

In my spiritual study I was learning to differentiate between what I saw with my eyes and heard with my ears, and what is genuine from a spiritual perspective. The sensory evidence about anyone is not the final word on them. Each person we deal with has a spiritual identity that is permanent and perfect. The human personality we perceive with the limited senses is not permanent—it is in fact temporary.

I spent some time with this thought in Science and Health: “What is termed material sense can report only a mortal temporary sense of things, whereas spiritual sense can bear witness only to Truth.” Basically, this meant I couldn’t trust my senses. Specifically, what my senses were telling me about my dad.

I remember having a sense of revelation one day about this whole issue. It suddenly struck me like a thunderbolt that all the things I objected to about Dad were temporary. None of that was a permanent part of his being. Spiritual sense confirmed that he is actually without fault, fearless, and whole. So why was I allowing myself to get into such a snit about something temporary?

In that moment, my relationship with my dad came into focus. Somehow I had become convinced that if only he would change, we could have harmony. Now I saw that it was my view of him that had to change. I realized I could stop reacting to his negative behaviors as if they were permanent, and I could start responding to his spiritual attributes, of which he had many but my irritation had blocked me from seeing.

Science and Health also says this: “Material man is made up of involuntary and voluntary error, of a negative right and a positive wrong, the latter calling itself right. Man's spiritual individuality is never wrong. It is the likeness of man's Maker. … Personality is not the individuality of man.”

So I went cold turkey. I adjusted how I looked at my dad, and found a wonderful man there waiting for me to see and appreciate. To me, now, it's like he's a whole different guy.

This tactic of refusing to let the temporary influence how I feel about people has kept me many times from rejecting others who I would have found irritating before this. I’m on the whole less irritable, thank goodness! Which I suppose was a temporary part of my personality that had to go.

Embrace the permanent spiritual likeness in those around you, and let the temporary be like water off a duck’s back. You may be surprised at who you’ll find looking back at you, for you’ll see the Divine more clearly.

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Hearts breaking for India

My heart hurts for India this morning…. Such an amazing country, so vital to humanity’s future. The Times of India’s Readerspeak: Wishes for Mumbai has messages of love and support from around the world, go there to add your own.

Here is one message that touched me:

I was horrified when I got the news that Mumbai had 7 bomb explosions. All kinds of thoughts ran across my mind for my family, but thank God that all my loved ones are safe, but my condolences and prayers are with all the victims and their families of this inhuman terrorist act. May God give them strength. I hope that even if one of the terrorist is even looking at the news or reading it, he realizes and thinks that what has happened to others due to his evil act could also happen to him and his loved ones. Why so much violence and hatred? All I can say that an answer to hatred is love and not hatred. God bless us all with your divinity.

Urvashi Patel
USA

I love what Urvashi is hinting at—that the terrorists must, somewhere, down deep, have a conscience. That as individuals, they have families they value. Today my prayers will unite with Urvashi’s in hoping that some spiritual spark with speak to the evildoers and make them want to do good, not evil.

Here’s something else I wrote a while back, I hope it’s still helpful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remember the first time I felt overwhelmed [by tragic events]. It was after the Oklahoma City bombings, where so many children were taken from us. I was channel surfing one night, and came on a station that was airing, with mournful music playing, each of the faces of the victims. A new one would come on every few seconds, beautiful pictures of innocent happy faces, now lost to us. My anguish gathered momentum, and I found myself weeping.

What had happened to these people? I prayed. Where are they now? Do they miss us? Are they sad? Are they scared? How can I help them?

I had to turn to the great heart of Love for the answer. The Love that fills all space, that fills every moment. And in truth those dear ones had always been in the embrace of Love. This Love knows no violence, no evil intent. This Love is secure unto itself.

I began to think of the children as having been catapulted right into the arms of Love. I pictured them seeing hearing feeling only Love, holding them up and comforting them. In fact, they had always been there, and I prayed that now they could feel it, wherever they were.

And I prayed for the families, that they too would feel that Love. I know there was so much love poured out toward them from their communities and our country, and this is an expression of the everpresence of infinite Love. We can live Love to each other with our prayers and caring.

I sent forth this prayer of Love, striving to envelop all of that city with its overarching embrace. It's the same prayer I sent forth at 9/11, at Bali, at Madrid, at London, at the tsunamis. It’s the prayer I cling to whenever I hear of mass tragedies -- the prayer that Love went before, is there during, and remains after whatever moments of destruction appear to bring.

The destruction is not the final word -- Love is.

Remember, thou canst be brought into no condition, be it ever so severe, where Love has not been before thee and where its tender lesson is not awaiting thee.

--Mary Baker Eddy

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Honoring the 'rents

I’ve been thinking more about personality since yesterday, so wanted to offer this story that I wrote some time back about my dad. I’ll probably write more about it tomorrow.

---------------------------------------------

“Honour thy father and thy mother.” When I was growing up, this was the peskiest commandment, particularly regarding my dad.

I didn't get along with him the same way I did with my mom. I felt he was impossible to talk to and didn’t really care what I thought. And, he had a million little idiosyncrasies that irritated me. Or, maybe they irritated me because of how I felt about him. As a result, a great deal of hurt built up in me over the years.

Our times together throughout my adolescence were tense. I left home as soon as I could and moved far away. Visits home were stressful. I didn't enjoy them, but just assumed this was normal.

That is, unless I had some reason to be thinking about the Commandments. Periodically my spiritual study would bring up that pesky #5. I would rationalize that since God is my true spiritual Father (and Mother), by obeying and honoring Him/Her I was covering the commandment spiritually. And certainly that is a good thing to be doing. Trouble is, that's not what the commandment says. It’s pretty clear it’s talking about respecting and honoring your human parents, and I just couldn’t.

The book Don’t Know Much about the Bible says that Commandment Five “was aimed at protecting the elderly and sick from being abandoned to the elements once they were no longer productive members of the tribe.” The outward observation of this today would be to acknowledge and bless your own parents. And I could do this with my mom, no problem—in fact, almost to a fault. Everything was very black and white—she was perfect, my dad was not even close.

It wasn't until years after leaving home that I began to spend a lot of time thinking about my family and trying to figure it all out. I was growing spiritually, finding out more and more about my relationship to God, and feeling more of that divine fathering and mothering in my life. I found myself writing a screenplay about my family, and unbeknownst to me, it was God’s way of helping me work out many of my deepest family issues.

At one point, I was writing a scene where the character based on myself was having an argument about my dad with another member of the family. As I typed the dialogue, I suddenly found myself putting these unexpected words into the family member's mouth—“You're just like him!" Typing as quickly as I could, I had the character representing me say, "No, I'm not!" as the family member stormed out of the room.

My hands recoiled from the keyboard as though stung. I had to contemplate this for some time to grasp what had just happened. Why had I typed that? Was I in any way like my dad? Had I adopted the things that most bothered me? Or maybe the things that bothered me most about myself were the things I was hardest on him about?

It was as if a searchlight illumined all my past interactions with my dad. We were a lot alike. We’re both bulldogs about having our way. We both hate waste, almost to the point of obsession—except he would do anything to save money and I would do anything to save time. He wanted to be obeyed without question; I wanted people to listen to me and do what I said as well. He wanted respect; and yep, I sure did, too. He felt deeply his responsibilities to family; my own family was growing, and I was devoted to them, too.

The very motivation for his life became clear to me as I understood how much it was like my own. And I finally saw, for the first time, my dad’s accomplishments. He had successfully raised four very diverse children and kept a marriage going for many decades. This was no small feat. Fixating on the foibles that annoyed me was completely disregarding all his hard work and what he'd given to our family.

And then I saw something new. I remembered things about my dad I'd always known but had forgotten. He was a leader in every organization he joined. He worked hard and was dedicated to family. He took his responsibilities seriously and fulfilled them. He loved history and small children. He valued church and community and actively participated in both.

Guess what? I did, too. Every single one of those things is prominent in my own life.

Suddenly I realized I was honoring my father—with my very life. I was living a life that embodied the values he held dear. My siblings were doing this as well, each in their own way. We are testaments, monuments if you will, to our dad—and to our mom, too.

And another revelation—in honoring my parents this way, I am indeed honoring God as the divine Parent of us all. I like this idea from Science and Health: “Father-Mother is the name for Deity, which indicates His tender relationship to His spiritual creation.” When I acknowledge the good that came to me through my parents, I’m acknowledging this good as an expression of God’s love for me. And I’m recognizing that the personal quirks that might need smoothing—or just enjoying!—are not all there is about either of my parents, or about myself. We are each unique creations of the same infinite Father-Mother. All we have to do is enjoy each other. Dad didn’t create me—he expressed God’s love to me.

When I think with a long view about our family, I realize each generation has built on the progress of the one before. Each generation lived a life that’s a testament to the hard work of the one before. What that means to me is if I appreciate and honor what my parents have done, I can in effect start where they left off rather than doing it all from scratch. And my kids can do the same.

That really is honoring God as well. For loving where we've come from allows us to love where we're going.

My dad and I get along great now. I love spending time with him. And now that I can see more clearly, I can feel his love for me, too.

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Personality Plus

Just finished a book I found very helpful: Personality Plus by Florence Littauer. If you’ve ever asked the question, “How can that person be that way?” this book might help you answer it.

I’m a big fan of books, like this one, that explain somewhat the ins-and-outs of being human. It’s not what you’d call “absolute,” which in Christian Science is the total perfection that is divine Spirit. But most of us function in the “relative,” or that arena where the human mind can be persuaded to uplift itself toward something higher. In that arena, sometimes explanations provide a good jumping off point for further reasoning.

And this book explains a lot. Drawing on the four temperaments devised by Hippocrates around 400 BCE and laced with a decidedly Christian slant (Scripture is quoted at the end of every chapter and there’s a plug for Jesus at the end), Personality Plus seeks to clarify that we each have a unique stamp or filter through which we communicate and express. And, the more we can understand our own filter and the filter of others, the better we can get along in the here-and-now even as we strive for heaven.

It recalls to mind the two great commandments: love God, and love each other as ourselves. This is not just emotional love or blind adoration. I believe the love that’s required includes an intelligent understanding of the other, be it God or another person.

The more we know about God, the more we love Him, because His grandeur and perfection are revealed and we can’t help but be amazed. Likewise with other people. It’s not enough to love on a purely emotional level. Love must also include reason and understanding, since God is both Love and Mind and Truth.

To love enough to find out about another, to strive to understand them on all levels, brings us deeper into genuine affection and closer to loving them as ourselves. In a paraphrase on the commandment, in order to truly love we need to also understand God, and understand others as we understand ourselves.

I hesitate to list the temperaments, because the names Hippocrates came up with and Littauer uses seem somewhat negative, but for the sake of good blogging here they are:

• Popular Sanguine—the extrovert, the talker, the optimist. These folks are the life of the party.
• Perfect Melancholy—the introvert, the thinker, the pessimist. These folks analyze and create, tending to be artists or engineers.
• Powerful Choleric—the extrovert, the doer, the optimist. These folks take charge and make things happen.
• Peaceful Phlegmatic—the introvert, the watcher, the pessimist. These folks are at peace with the world and aren’t wildly motivated to change it.

Littauer maintains that it’s the blend of the temperaments that make us unique. There may be only four, but we’re each a unique blend of those four. Her book explains how to discern the traits of each in ourselves and each other, and how to relate to each other once we’ve discovered those traits.

I’d take it one step further and say that while we may exhibit some characteristics naturally, we can also learn to embody the best of them all. For example, I have a friend I really admire. She could make every person in a large group feel comfortable. If she and I were talking one-on-one and another person walked up, she’d instantly shift to include the person and mention something they and I had in common to get the conversation going in a three-way. I found this amazing. I was so impressed that I started emulating her in social situations, and soon it became second nature.

This indicates to me the possibility for an expanded sense of personality that sheds the limitations and adopts the admirable. As a Christian Scientist, I believe that we are each shedding the limitations of personality as we grow spiritually. The temperament blend, or personality, is not cast in stone because as we grow we can learn to express the best of all of them.

The first step might be noticing and appreciating how others express differently than we do. I can see already that understanding more what makes another tick makes me more patient and accommodating. I listen better and can express love in a way that is more meaningful to them. This to me is loving another as myself, because I appreciate it when I get this kind of understanding myself. And, when I see a trait I admire, I try to adopt it. In this way, a higher selfhood is revealed that is free from limitations.

Ultimately, there are no limitations. We each express all the goodness of the Divine. Personality Plus? Where we’re really headed is Individuality Infinite.

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More interp and a pop quiz

Haha, I may not know poetry, but I know what I like.

Friend and blog reader Leslie sent a grammatical question about Mother’s Evening Prayer (another post about this poem was on Wednesday).

While you're focusing on the MEP, here's another area I've always been confused about:

O make me glad for every scalding tear,
For hope deferred, ingratitude, disdain!

Is she telling us to "be glad" for each of four equal items (without conjunctions), including disdain? Or is the "disdain" an order—is she telling us to disdain hope deferred and ingratitude (while we're glad for the scalding tears?).

It's not a huge point, but I've always wondered.

So it’s time for my Poetry Philosophy #1: However it speaks to you is the correct meaning.

This goes for the psalms, for hymns, for songs, even for some prose. Sometimes you can’t say exactly what you mean with words—and I say this as a writer. Sometimes you’re just articulating an essence, an impression. And that essence or impression might mean something else to the reader.

That’s the resonance of writing, and it happens with astonishing frequency. The person reading *doesn’t* get the same meaning you meant when you wrote it. They get something totally different out of it, because they’re bringing their own experience to the reading. And if they share that with you as the writer, *you* get something new out of the very thing you wrote. It’s a very cool feature about sharing ideas, so I believe we should always share.

So here’s Leslie giving me an entirely different take on a poem I’ve read a zillion times. I’ve always read it the one way, that “disdain” is one of the many things to be glad for. Yet Leslie puts forth another possibility—that we can disdain hope deferred and ingratitude. This interpretation would finally explain that exclamation point, which does make it more imperative.

Because it’s poetry, we really don’t have to pick one. To my mind, either one is metaphysically accurate and could have a healing effect for the reader depending on circumstances.

So here’s one for you: What does this sentence mean to you?

Spiritual understanding unfolds Mind, — Life, Truth, and Love, — and demonstrates the divine sense, giving the spiritual proof of the universe in Christian Science.

--Science and Health, p. 505

I’ve always puzzled over the last phrase. What does “the spiritual proof the universe” mean? You’d help me out if you’d share what that means to you.

Have a great weekend!

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Like it never was

What does it feel like to put evil behind us, to make it like it never was? I got this really wonderful story in from June in the U.K. that is an inspiring example.

All my life I hated my father, never once did I think I was wrong to do that, he was always very violent, and very often beat my mother. He walked out when my mother was ill, and that was the only thing he ever done that made me happy. After my mothers death my two younger brothers went to live with him, I had a lot of contact with them but my father was never ever mentioned.

One night I was in bed and just put my Science and Health down and was just going to go to sleep, I thought of my father. I had a picture of him in my head, just standing, then I saw all the evil, that I thought was him, but it was outside of him, it had never ever been in him. and I knew in that very second because it had never been in him I had always loved him. anyway the outcome was I no longer hated him, and told my three sisters that I was going to go and see him, as a result we all went and things were put right for us all.

I did not feel like I had been healed as I felt it had never been there so I did not feel like it had been took away if that makes any sense to you. But please Laura, if you can use [this story] to help anyone in any way please do, you can use my name if you want, its up to you because it is the truth. by the time of his death we were all very close to him and he turned out to be a lovely grandfather.

Gratitude just fills my heart when I read that story. We can see all evil like that, as outside the person who is manifesting it, as ready to be shed and destroyed. No matter how long it’s been manifested or how extreme, it’s still ripe for annihilation.

Thank you, June, for this healing example!

Again, God, or good, never made man capable of sin. It is the opposite of good — that is, evil — which seems to make men capable of wrong-doing. Hence, evil is but an illusion, and it has no real basis. Evil is a false belief. God is not its author. The supposititious parent of evil is a lie.

--Science and Health

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Heaven’s aftersmile

Got a fun question over the weekend from a site visitor named Carol:

Just wondering what your thoughts are regarding Mrs. Eddy's meaning of the words "When heaven's aftersmile earth's tear-drops gain."

This of course is a line from Mary Baker Eddy’s Mother’s Evening Prayer, a comforting poem that compares mother love to the watchful care a bird takes with her nestling. The final verse reads:

No snare, no fowler, pestilence or pain;
No night drops down upon the troubled breast,
When heaven's aftersmile earth's tear-drops gain,
And mother finds her home and heav'nly rest.

So, keeping in mind we’re dealing with bird imagery here, I picture a mother bird with her wings spread over her little ones in a nest, protecting them from the snare and fowler, etc.

Earth’s tear-drops I see as a rainfall, and heaven’s aftersmile as a rainbow. So even the tears bring a glowing radiance that uplifts and blesses.

Have you ever seen a young child’s brilliant smile right when you cheer them up after they’ve been weeping over a broken toy? That’s the kind of aftersmile I picture here. Eyes may be wet with tears, but irrepressible joy breaks through.

And I believe that’s what Eddy means here. Earthliness — materiality — may get our attention for a time, yet it is our disappointment with earth that draws our eyes heavenward, and we see the rainbow of God’s spiritual promise to care for us always. Our earthly troubles always point us Spiritward, and we find that “heav’nly rest” waiting for us.

What does that line mean to you?

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Freedom of thought

“American values”—sounds like one of the oxymorons I wrote about last week. And, as an American, I sometimes blush at how we present ourselves to the rest of the world. But there is one piece of being an American I would never let go, and that’s freedom of thought.

Certainly free thought is not exclusive to America. It is characteristic, though, of a society where the rule of law is (mostly) based on personal freedom unless you’re hurting someone else and of freedom of the press to report whatever they deem will sell papers. I’m being a bit tongue-in-cheek I guess, yet I think this adds up to something spiritually significant.

My dad said this once many years ago during the Cold War. “They can take your property,” he said, “they can lock you up, they can torture you. But they can’t change what you think.”

I’ve really cherished that bit of wisdom over the years. No one can make me think anything I don’t want to think. My consciousness is my own domain, and I rule there.

This gives me the authority to question, in my own mind, anything that doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t have to believe anything on someone else’s word unless I choose to. I’m not one of a brigade of Red soldiers, or jihadis, or militant abortion activists—and truth be told, those angry or frightened mobs as well are made up of individuals who have free thought. They have the capacity to think as individuals, to make a difference right where they are.

Time for a Star Trek reference. You’ve heard, perhaps, of the Borg, the icy robotic uber-enemy with no mercy whose only goal was to assimilate other races? The Borg collective thought and acted as one, with no individuality at all. Well, the Star Trek crew managed to separate one from the “hive.” And lo and behold the creature quickly began to demonstrate individuality. Watching the moment when Captain Picard (who has abundant reasons to distrust the Borg) realizes that he’s dealing with an individual rather than the collective still sends chills down my back (we had the DVD at home recently).

It’s a powerful moment, when we realize that the crowd we feared is really made up of individuals with the capacity for free thought. On that level, we can look in their eyes, respect each individual life, and promote understanding among peoples.

So today, on American Independence Day, I’m throwing my arms around the concept that since everyone on earth is blessed with freedom of thought, America need have no enemies. I’m just embracing the truth that each other country and each person in those countries is as valuable and free as anyone I know here is. We can meet together as friends, with understanding and patience, with respect and brotherly kindness leading the way.

It’s an ideal, I know. But it starts with my own thought.

Some great ideas about free thought from Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health:

Spiritual rationality and free thought accompany approaching Science, and cannot be put down. They will emancipate humanity, and supplant unscientific means and so-called laws.

--p. 223

You may know when first Truth leads by the fewness and faithfulness of its followers. Thus it is that the march of time bears onward freedom's banner. The powers of this world will fight, and will command their sentinels not to let truth pass the guard until it subscribes to their systems; but Science, heeding not the pointed bayonet, marches on. There is always some tumult, but there is a rallying to truth's standard.

The history of our country, like all history, illustrates the might of Mind, and shows human power to be proportionate to its embodiment of right thinking.

--p. 225

Discerning the rights of man, we cannot fail to foresee the doom of all oppression. Slavery is not the legitimate state of man. God made man free. Paul said, "I was free born." All men should be free. "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." Love and Truth make free, but evil and error lead into captivity.

Christian Science raises the standard of liberty and cries: "Follow me! Escape from the bondage of sickness, sin, and death!" Jesus marked out the way. Citizens of the world, accept the "glorious liberty of the children of God," and be free! This is your divine right. The illusion of material sense, not divine law, has bound you, entangled your free limbs, crippled your capacities, enfeebled your body, and defaced the tablet of your being.

--p. 227

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For the love of books

Oooo, had a lot of fun over the weekend with a new Web widget recommended by Kindli. (I must have missed the Christian Science Monitor article last November.) It’s a site called LibraryThing, and it allows you to amass your own bookshelf, and then see who else has the same books you do.

This is a dream come true to me. The site is incredibly well-designed and so easy to use, I got up and running in about two minutes, but then spent the next two hours on it. I love books, love to talk about books, love to collect books. And to look at this site, I’m not alone.

What is it about books? I know there was angst about the computer and Internet making us lose interest in books, but walk into any Barnes & Noble and you can see there’s no problem with the variety of books still being published. And I’m still a big buyer. Amazon is my favorite source—when I can afford little else, I still get a quarterly shipment of new books. I’ve got to own the things. I tried the actual library for a while, but when I liked a book it was physically painful to have to part with it.

So this Website allows me to indulge my obsession a bit more, and to go on record with my selections. You’ll see a new feature in my right navigation powered by LibraryThing: images from my own bookshelf appearing randomly (sometimes it takes a second to download). I love it!

I think books will never go out of style because they are still the best way to share ideas on a large scale. I may spend a lot of time online, but I’m not going to read a biography or novel by computer screen. For that, I have to curl up on my couch and forget the rest of the world. Books remain the best way to do that.

I love this sentiment by Mary Baker Eddy, woven into her larger discussion about the spirits of the dead communicating with us:

Chaucer wrote centuries ago, yet we still read his thought in his verse. What is classic study, but discernment of the minds of Homer and Virgil, of whose personal existence we may be in doubt?

Reading the author’s thought. That’s what we’re doing when we read books. The author could be long gone, such as Jane Austen, or just an ocean away, such as J.K. Rowling. Yet their books give us just as present a picture of their imagination, their values, their conclusions about humanity. And where else could we glean the wisdom of the ages than from books such as the Bible, Augustine’s confessions, John Donne’s poems?

Of course, the art of articulating what’s on one’s mind verbally, otherwise known as “writing,” is an art close to my heart. I’ve been writing since I could hold a pencil, and apparently there’s no stopping me. One of my dreams would be to have a book of mine join the LibraryThing shelves some day.

Here in the US, it’s a holiday weekend, and for once beautiful weather in New England, so I may tear myself away from screen and page to take a walk. I hope you’re all having a great Monday.

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