The Holy in Humanity

Remember those bracelets with "What Would Jesus Do?"
Is the absolute answer known by even a few?
Should we ask ourselves, instead, how I would respond
If I saw Jesus' Spirit in people of whom I'm not fond?

What if Jesus was the beggar standing on the street?
Would I take him to a restaurant for a bite to eat?
Or would I combine my resources with the homeless inn,
Where he may find a shower, meal, and perhaps a friend?

Jesus carried the same burdens as we, being human;
He, too, drew comfort from being with his friends.
His example is of community seeking common good,
Looking past outward appearances, as we all could.

One thing that set Jesus apart in his life on earth
Was his bravery in standing for the soul's rebirth.
He insisted in seeing past the sin into the sinner's heart,
And inviting all he met to make a new start.

He left his Sacred Spirit to a group of three thousand,
Asking that they share his mission with all humans.
If we have the Holy Spirit in us, we will see
The same Spirit is in all of this earth's humanity.

It is unfortunate that so many hide behind drugs
Because they have no faith in the healing of hugs.
We may find The Holy Spirit in the eyes of pain,
If we continue looking for it again and again.

When a soul opens up, if only for a minute,
We may connect with The Spirit that's within it.
It is important that we relate to others face-to-face
To share The Holy Spirit with the whole human race.

Saints don't work alone, but with communities of others,
Combining their gifts with those of sisters and brothers.
They help hold each other onto the committed path,
Rotating their leaders from first position to last.

Even the strongest and swiftest need time to rest,
And the slowest need to strive to be their very best.
Our communities must include the weak and the strong;
On the path of Holiness, all of our gifts belong.

We are all called to be shepherds, not merely sheep;
Our connections to The Spirit run long and deep.
Celebration, not suffering, is the way to draw others in;
Success in sharing The Spirit makes the best of friends.

"Poor Pagans" and Happy Holy Days

Whether we are Christians, Jews, or Atheists, we are all in awe of the power of light. This is the season for celebrating the miracle of light coming to us out of the darkness. In this holy season, Christians celebrate, not only the light of the sun, but the lightening of the burdens on our Spirits from our ancestral inheritance. We are told that we are no longer slaves to the mistakes of our fathers and mothers and all who came before them. We have been given a new beacon of The Spirit to guide us in creating our own chosen paths in The Eternal Light. Eternal, freely given, Divine Light is the reason for the season.

In taking all the focus of our holy days off of their original "pagan" (actual meaning is country dweller) meanings, we have lost sight of our Divine connection to our earth. The country dwellers I know and love, while most proudly proclaim their Christian religion, are very aware and in awe of the cycles of nature. It is a tragedy of immense proportions that so many modern humans have never anxiously awaited the sunlight after a long period of darkness. So many have never sought relief from the heat while sitting on the cool grass in the shade of a tree. So many have never dipped cool, sweet water pouring directly out of the earth from a mountain spring.

We have lost our connection to the earth. If we were to nurse a calf from gestation to adulthood, looking into his or her trusting eyes, would we not comfort him as we poured out the bull's life blood to give our families food? Would we not honor every drop of milk provided by the swollen udders of the crying cow? Would we not be in awe of the cycle that turns light, dirt, water and seed into grass, and finally into meat and milk? We've lost this with industrial agriculture. At least Kosher killing is purported to be humane.

I miss my my "pagan" friends when we're away from them. They have brought me back to the true meaning of life and Divinity. They have introduced me to the rich smell of a barn filled with garden-enriching manure, and the joy of a hand-hewn wood fire embracing me with warmth and light, as we break the depression of darkness of winter in each other's homes. They have allowed me to participate in the gathering of eggs from under their house-pet hens, and the fun of fertilizing a garden with what we scraped out of the hen's house.

We've watched them fell trees, mill their own lumber, and build houses with their own hands. We've walked the two hundred steps to the spring to bring back to the house a day's drinking water. Our "pagan" friends have shared secrets of waiting and preservation of today's good for tough times that are bound to come. They have regenerated my belief that life's greatest blessing is shared work in an environment that honors the natural cycles of nature, including each other. They have shared the immense faith it takes to keep working and patiently waiting.

I miss the sweet, cold water that comes out of our mountain ground and the eyes of the alpacas grazing at the bend in the road. I miss the dappled, weak winter light filtering through the immense hardwood trees. I miss the daily miracle of wood fires burning in our homes.Mostly, I miss the love and laughter than lightens all of our loads as we take life as it comes, good and bad, and make the most of it.

"Pagan" life isn't for sissies, and it is certainly not for those without The Holy Spirit to help them turn pain and pressure into production and light into life. Divinity is on this sweet, sad, sunny, stormy earth, in every morsel of creation. We simply need to learn to look for The Spirit and honor The Holy in all Their manifestations.

What is worship other than honor and awe in the Great Goodness that many call "God?" Perhaps the people we were taught to call "the poor pagans" weren't really worshiping many gods in all of nature; perhaps they were simply worshiping the Divine in each of the various manifestations in nature. Perhaps they aren't so "poor" as long as they can live off the land and The Light. What is wealth other than the ability to take a productive part in the miracles of life? City Christians have a lot to learn from the "poor pagans."

Jesus seems to have lived and died in honor of this life-style; this is why I consider him the Christ that I continue to attempt to emulate, usually with spotty success. I do celebrate his birth and life because I believe my soul would be dead without the love of others who walk in his example. Mostly, I celebrate the light of love than his Holy Spirit and those who follow his lead leave on earth to light the loads of others.

Happy Holy Days, whatever you may call your particular days of awe in the miracles of life-giving light that surround us on this earth.

Claims to Christianity

We are told that there are 2.1 billion Christians in the world, making Christianity the world's largest religion. But how many of these "Christians" were brought to The Annointed's way by The Spirit and how many of them by fear of the sword?

Gayle wrote in her blog OneBirdWatching.blogspot.com today about the 3,000 devout Jews who were gifted with assurance of the fire of The Holy Spirit on the Jewish holy day of Pentecost. They went forth and spread the joy that they had received with this graced group. 3,000 people on fire with joy and compassion for others would be a powerful force, but given the size of the world, it would take a long time for the new Fruits of Their Spirits to spread to all corners.

As seems to be the case with all groups since the dawn of humanity, competition set in. There became a contest to claim the conversion of the most souls. This competition was made greater by the conquering  of the Muslim world, at the point of a sword, for "Christ." I don't believe these were true conversions because they were not conversions by The Holy Spirit that moves from one to another, bringing joy. They were false conversions by fear.

We have continued to "claim" souls for "Christ," using methods that Jesus himself condemned during the hours before his own death. We must stop the race to bring others around to our ways in our own small lifetimes. We must strengthen our own resolve and faith to be able to continue to walk in The Spirit and hold ourselves and children fast to our beliefs, even if the world around us rejects us as "odd."

Only by reclaiming "Christianity" as a people of peaceful passion and compassion will we continue to "Be fruitful and multiply" the fire of The Holy Spirit for our generation and all that follow us. All who live in the light of The Holy Spirit are parts of the true Annointed One (The Christ), which I believe is actually all the people of The Spirit. "I am the vine, you are the branches" applies to all of these people from the beginning of time, no matter what "religion" they claim, or that has claimed them.

Civilized Society

The greatest tragedy in safety being breached in schools and churches is the destruction of the temples that we hold up as standards for protection of our society's innocent and vulnerable. Many children have nobody else to love them and make them feel that they are individually special.

When we look into the eyes of those who truly love us, we see a reflection of our own souls. Each one of us is "special" in the eyes of those who love us. This is not necessarily the look in the eyes of those who find us fascinating or fun, but in the eyes of those who really know us with all our weaknesses and wonders and fully love us from the inside out.

It was in third grade that I first felt special, not simply one of a pesky brood of nine. My teacher, Mrs. Bourgeois hand wrote on my report card that I was "sweet". I had never been called "sweet" before; I began to try very hard to live up to her belief in me. The teachers in my life were my emotional and spiritual salvation. All children are vulnerable, and so are their teachers and caregivers, by the act of putting the children in their care before themselves.

There are many in our society who have such injured or deadened souls that they are incapable of compassion. Some were born drug addicted or otherwise unloved before birth; some have had their souls destroyed by violence or neglect; some have deadened themselves with drugs. We cannot "cure" these people, as their capacity for loving and being loved is dead. We can only seek to contain them. We must protect the innocent from their wrath.

The mark of a civilized society, in my opinion, is how the strong band together to protect the vulnerable. It seems to me that we need less grandpas on the golf courses and more men in our school yards to keep our children and teachers from becoming prey.

This Little Light

Always remember that the light of a person's life, no matter how short that life, burns forever in the souls of all that were touched by that person. We should never seek "closure" on memories of our beloveds; our memories are their eternal light that we will pass on to others. Even children that die before birth, when joyfully anticipated, create an eternal spark in the parents that will never be extinguished.

I believe that the tragedy in our civilization is the rush to put aside pain because it makes those seeing it feel helpless in its face. How often do we tell people to simply "go on" with their grief instead of holding them in our arms while they weep?

When my mother-in-law was dying, nobody would admit we were losing her physical self. All the platitudes in the world about her being in a better place when she died did nothing to fill the empty spots where her large loving arms had enfolded me, where her great laughter had filled my ears, where my eyes had connected with her huge heart. I even missed the smell of her when she woke up to go to work.

How much greater the pain must be when we lose a person who was once actually a part of our own bodies.These are the physical wounds that nobody seems to see or feel. Our arms, eyes, noses, and ears are hurting. Only our memories can salve the pain.

When I'm walking in my garden of memories, I can feel, taste, touch, hear, and see my loved ones. The greatest thing a friend can do when I'm in grief is to walk through my memories with me, no matter how many times I revisit the same site. How lonely it is to forever walk in one's memories alone.

Fully Functional Families

A friend in Coker Creek has Alzheimer's disease and mixes her present with her past. She's cared for by a combination of family members and visiting home health professionals, and obviously feels and is greatly loved. When I visit with her at her mother's home, she asks about her long-deceased daddy, insisting that she's seen him that very morning and has even played jokes on him.

She doesn't know that her sister with whom she lives is a relative, and believes that her mother is her granny. She seems happy in her child's world. How much more peaceful this must be than attempting to understand the changes that have transpired in her seventy-six years on earth. We are told that we should all have faith like that of a child. Maybe it comes from having loving family and friends with great faith and fun to share.

Another friend has a middle-aged son with schizophrenia, a genetic condition that must be carefully medicated for him to be functional. His mother is diligent in arranging for his medical care. She lost her husband a few years ago, and her son has become the man of her home. Between he and his nephew, whom his mother also raised, the two men manage to carry on the good neighbor traditions and values that were handed down from their patriarch. My friend provides home, hearth, and humor. They all seem to be greatly blessed.

A friend, who has since moved away from Coker Creek, has a grown son with Down's Syndrome.  Her husband's work has transferred the family many times to many places. When she and her family moved into Coker Creek, she told me that they had never been made more welcome by any community. Even though the only family they had in the area was their church family, they were never without respite care for themselves and their son.

It's a joy to be among people who have their lives paced in such a way as to be able to care for their friends and family members who are, in some manner, infirm. Where are we all racing in our efforts to "get ahead?" What values are being preserved in the anonymous masses of isolated citizens in most of our cities? Were humans really meant to be warehoused and watched over by police instead of being brought up in closely committed communities?

We disrespect those who care for, feed, and teach our young and infirm by paying them wages that we would not accept. Is there any compensation great enough for the absorption of another's Sacred Spirit? This is what those who care for others with love are sharing. Even saints need food, clothing, and shelter for themselves and their families. They should not have to beg for fair compensation because we don't want to admit our great need for them. We seek to make them vulnerable by underpaying them, when it would be to our benefit to do all we can to empower them.

Adam and Eve refused to admit that they needed the Elder of Their Community's guidance, and Cain refused to admit her could share in full community with his brother. We continue to deny that we need the faith and family of those who came before and know our needs, as well as committed community, in order to develop fully functional families and souls. When will we ever learn?

Faith-Filled Friends

A friend and I were once talking about how people handle death and dying issues. I mentioned that people of faith seem to handle death better than those without strong beliefs. His answer was, "People of faith believe that whatever happens, they will be okay."  I guess that really sums up the way people of faith approach all of life. How wonderful it is to watch people who walk in the glow of their God. How much better it is for me when they invite me to walk along with them.

I believe that building faith is like building a fire. An ember can glow for years without burning out, and is always available to help generate fire when called upon with breath and substance to create light. I am blessed by having many people in my life who live lives aglow with the Divine Light given to humanity as a special gift. While their own lights may often be silently burning embers, the energy generated when any two get together blazes with a glorious faith-fire.

While south Louisiana seems to always be burning with wild, passionate faith and fantasy, the faith in Coker Creek seems to be more of a patiently waiting warmth. It is pure joy for me to touch these quietly passionate people and have all of our joy join together in celebration and sharing of our gifts. Sometimes I feel like we're all Tinker Bells touching others with our magic wands, and bringing all we touch to light up with laughter and other signs of love.

While it is wonderful to have faithful friends, the rewards are so much greater when they are also faith-filled friends. The bonds that are formed when we share our faith-based feelings live on in others even after the deaths of our earthly bodies. On our last trip to Coker Creek, I reassured Mountain Mama that she'd never be dead as long as I live because I am making a point of absorbing as much of her Sacred Spirit as I can while she's alive. She has touched so many lives in her ninety-three years that I suspect, like the mother of Jesus, all generations will call her blessed.

I just hope that I don't cause her to feel that I'm sucking out her soul. I like to think that Richard brings her some comfort and I bring her some joy. I hope our friendship creates a positive energy that will outlive all of us.