I attended worship meetings thrice weekly his family not once
Recalled the day he laughed at me
He found it funny when I referred to my church
I got on my bike, upset, pedaled home
Days later, I returned, Ray apologized - sadness written all over his face
I returned for we were still friends
Words that had hurt did not separate
Ray, the obituary said, died a member of a conservative, evangelical, holiness congregation
How ironic... I thought... after these five decades... Ray at home in a church, not I
Our paths are twists and turns, but somehow, if we allow, they find us
The Way meets us we just need to stay out of the way
We begin, and we go but we'll never know for sure the how or where
Our destinies unfold in ways we never would have dreamed
We blown this way and that like leaves in the wind
Heart-captivating Mind-blowing
Whatever direction blown all the spirited Dance
And sometimes our way comes to an end we seem unable to walk on and a new footpath opens
Way opens to way when we keep walking
Ray was led to the church Brian, you were led away from the church - such is this mysterious Grace!
*
When a youth, somehow, one of the family members introduced a statue of the Buddha into the house, a home of Southern Baptists. Mother had heard it could introduce demons into the house. So, it was gotten rid of.
In the nineteen-nineties, I got interested in Buddhism. I began reading books, mostly then from Tibetan Buddhism. Now, for years, most of my readings in Buddhism have been from Zen. I have paintings of Buddha on the wall, a statue of Buddha's head, and a full Buddha statue of the Awakened One sitting in the lotus posture, meditating. My living room rug depicts a Tibetan mandala with Avalokiteshvara, the Buddha of Compassion, at its center. I have a few Tibetan Buddhist malas. I chant and sing Buddhist mantras each morning. I chant a Buddhist Compassion Prayer for all beings - not just humans. Well, I have yet to find a demon in the house.
Coming from a Buddha-free zone, to cherish Buddhism, not for I am a Buddhist - I am not - but for I find there a way of life that, for me, surpasses in wisdom and compassion what I saw and heard in the churches. When I began studying Buddhism much - and I was still a Christian pastor - it felt like walls falling down that my heart had been pressing against for many years. This, for the heart could not find itself at-home inside those walls. Indeed, if your faith path does not fit inside your heart, rather than your heart inside it, you would be wise to ask yourself what that means for you.
The way the dance dances me does not make that the right way and Ray's the wrong way. Yet, it is the dance as I have been danced - and the dance is always changing. This does not mean Grace has not dragged me along sometimes; Grace has, and likely more than sometimes. Yet, I keep ending up where it feels I was destined to be, whether that was what had been wanted or not.
*
Now, when we have been danced long enough, we find an apparent paradox. We are danced, and we are the dance. It is one dance looked at in two ways, and it may, sometimes, feel one way, later, the other way.
*
How does this dance work? Yielding again and again. Surrender is making yourself a valley. It is a conscious, often courageous, choice. This is not weakness. Some persons - and that may be a huge understatement - are offended by the word "surrender." In a culture of ego, acquisition, accomplishment, performance, appearance, and control, how could we not expect it to feel insulted by such a word?
As the wise one Jesus says in the Gospels, "Humble yourself, and you will be lifted up." Alan Watts called this kind of paradox the "backward law." It is wise, for it appears foolish. So, if we want to stay down, we try to act up. If we want to be lifted up, we act humble, not for we are weak and foolish, but for we are strong and wise. In doing this, rather than our grasping, something befalls us.
We are overtaken; sometimes we may feel as if we have been struck. The befalling may seem slight, or it might feel like a wave crashing over us. In whatever way the dance dances, it is always by a sense of something done for us, something we could not do for ourselves, and that is precisely why it often happens after we have exhausted ourselves with our own futile efforts.
When we relax and sit by the wayside, the way opens. When we stop asking and are silent, the answer appears. When we stop trying to get what we think we want from Grace, Grace blesses us with what we most deeply longed for. The jewel is already sitting inside your hand.
