Coming to Rest in God

This week's quote is by the 20th century German Existentialist philosopher, Peter Wust, whose works have never been translated into English. According to my Google German to English translator, it reads, "Man is the eternal seeker of happiness, the tireless seeker of truth, the seeker of God who never comes to rest."

When I read it in the original German, I mistranslated it to mean that people eternally seek after happiness, tirelessly seek after truth, but are only able to find peace and rest in God. Which I know is not what he is saying, but it is what I believe. It is certainly what I needed to hear, this week.

Otherwise, what is faith for? I believe that my faith in God helps me in times of sadness, when I am unable to perceive the "truth" of a situation, so that I am able to hand whatever it is over to God and know that I am held in loving arms. This may be manifested through the love and concern of other people, but I believe that all humankind have a divine spark within them, which prompts them to reach out to other human beings in pain and offer them consolation. 

And that's all.

Life seen through a sunbeam

"Joy is life seen through a sunbeam." This week's quote, by Carmen Sylva, set me thinking. What did it mean?

Did it mean that we have to wear rose-tinted spectacles, so that we don't see anything that disturbs our serenity? Because if so, I have to disagree... if we are to be fully human, we need to be awake to the injustices and pain of the world, the better to do something about them. Heaven only knows there are enough of them, just now. So much so, in fact, that when I saw that my "reading for the week" from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet, was about pain, I was quite relieved. At least I would now have the opportunity to share what is on my mind and heart, in the hope that it would help others to wrestle with it too. And I have done so, here.

Or did it mean that joy is the underlying condition of our human lives, but that we cannot always see it? I blogged about that some time ago. Part of that blogpost read, "although our thoughts, moods and feelings may change from day to day, or even from moment to moment, there is a deep, peaceful, sky-blue awareness behind and above them, into which we can sink, if we just have the patience to sit in silence for a while, and let our passing emotions do just that - pass by."



Or did it mean a willingness to see the best in everything, and everybody? That human beings are not naturally depraved and corrupt. That our default state is to be kind, to co-operate with one another, to share our belongings and our lives.

I'm currently listening to an interesting new book, by Rutger Bregman, called Humankind: A Hopeful History. His thesis, so far as I understand it, is that our perceptions of humankind are skewed, because the news we watch, and scroll through on social media, always and only fixates on exceptional human behaviour, which is generally bad. War, murder, rape, genocide and so on. "Good news is no news" as the old saying goes. Whereas in reality, the majority of people are better than that, kinder than that, more caring than that. He demonstrates this with many examples. I haven't finished it yet, but it is fascinating, and I recommend it to anyone.

(image: e-bay)

Transforming Your Pain

They say that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. This happened to me yesterday afternoon, in the car on the way to lead worship at Dudley. I was listening to Richard Rohr's marvellous course The Art of Letting Go, which I've had for years and listened to numerous times. This time, in the last lecture, the phrase "If you do not transform your pain, you will always, always transmit it" jumped up and bit me.

"If you do not transform your pain, you will always, always transmit it."

I have listened to him saying that phrase many times, and have never been able to understand it. How on earth can you transform your pain? But this day, I suddenly realised that transmitting it is exactly what I have been doing. I have struggled in my relationship with a particular person, never mind who, for a long time. Anything that person said or did, I reacted to, and not often in a good way. It has caused me a good deal of suffering, but it was not until yesterday, that I realised that I have been transmitting that suffering, by sharing my negativity about that person with my nearest and dearest.

Rohr went on to say that we don't have to do this, that there is another way. We can step away from the conflict - whatever it is - and refuse to engage with it. Which means that we will be able to see the person we have trouble with, straight, without all the negative garbage we have attached to them.

I thank God for opening the ears of my heart, and for showing me that there is another way. To quote another wise guru, Brene Brown, I am going to trying to "assume positive intent", try to believe that the person is doing the best that they can. I have realised that the reactive me is my Relative Self, and that I have an Absolute Self, who can rise above petty irritations, and not react. 

I don't expect to manage it straight away, but I am, by God, going to try.

Don't Take It For Granted

For the last 48 hours, I have been in some considerable pain. I had been prescribed some painkillers for an on-going problem with my arm, and my poor tummy didn't like them. I had a bad reaction to them, which started on Wednesday morning, and only subsided on Thursday evening.

But it's left me feeling tired and listless and disinclined to do anything. But I know that I must, so I'm trying to summon up some mojo from somewhere.

But the last couple of days, and how grim I've felt during them, have made me appreciate anew two things:

1. my wonderful body, which usually holds up marvellously, doing all the complex tasks that a body does, and lets me get on with my life. I am grateful for her.

2. it has made me understand (just a little) how tough it must be to have a serious, on-going medical condition, and to live with pain, and all that pain brings, every day of your life. I have friends who manage this with such spirit and resilience and courage. I am lost in respect and admiration for them.

Because I do realise how very blessed I am, to have nothing seriously wrong with me - just the aches and pains of age. And I can still hope that Something Can Be Done, whereas some people I know just have to live with their conditions, day in and day out, forever and ever.

And that is grim. Huge respect to you all. If there is anything I can to to make your life a little easier, just call.