We were born in the very first moments of the universe,
Before we could speak, we sang among the stars,
Before we could walk, we leaped from galaxy to galaxy, and
Before we were confined to this lovely planet,
we played with building blocks.
Pushed and pulled together by Energy Divine,
we became who we are today . . .
Creatures of light, of dust, of Energy Divine.
Ruth Jewell, ©September 28, 2020
Image: Bob Holmes, Contemplative Monk Face Book Page, September 28, 2020
Be generous: invest in acts of charity.
Don’t hoard your goods; spread them around.
Be a blessing to others. This could be your last night.
— Ecclesiastes 11:1a, 2, The Message
My Mother 1988
Steven F Austin St. Park, TX
©Ruth Jewell, 2016
A recent meditation had the following journal question “If you knew you were dying what would you write or say to your children or grandchildren?” That question stopped me cold. What would I say to grandson and granddaughter, Liam and Amelia? How would I describe my love, and fears, for them? How would I tell them of my life lived with my own loves, fears, and regrets? What would I say, what would you say?
During this Easter season I have been writing about the ways we express our feelings of the resurrection, and the many ways we witness to others our faith in the resurrection. Sharing ourselves with the next generation is also a witness to our beliefs in the resurrection. The question above is an important one, challenging us to inspect our past and present lives and how that information could impact the lives that follow us. I thought long and hard about what I would, will, say to my grandchildren and all of it wasn’t bright flowers and sunshine.
What might say, well I would of course tell them I love them very much, how grateful I am for having them in my life, and I will miss them. I would ask for their forgiveness in my part for leaving them a world that is wounded and in pain, and a political system that doesn’t function. I would tell them that no matter what they do in life their parents and I would always love them from wherever we are. While their future is impacted by the world I leave behind it is still their future to make into what ever dream they reach for. Following those dreams may not be easy, or always fun, but are worth the effort if they truly believe in them. I would also tell them it is OK that they don’t believe in the Divine as I do, but, discovering their own pathway to something greater than themselves is important in finding their moral, loving, compassionate lives. I would want them to stand up against injustice even when it is hard to do so, to see the good in people and all creation even when the night is darkest. I want them to climb their most difficult mountains and to not be afraid of the challenges because I will be right there beside them cheering them on. I want my grandchildren to be fearless in the face adversity, to be strong when everyone else is weak, and to be gentle when touched by beauty.
What I want most for my beloved Liam and Amelia is to live a life that is not self-centered but other-centered. I want them to live a life that sees the best in the worst, the beauty in the ugly, and love in what is hatred. I can’t leave them with much but when I make my final passage from this world to the next I want them to know I cared about them, and want them to be the best at whatever they want to be.
So that is some of what I would tell my grandchildren, what would be in your letter to your children? We live in and uncertain world and we never know when our last day in this world will arrive. We all too often leave too much unsaid to those we love the most. So my journal question to you this week is: “If you knew you were dying what would you write or say to your children or grandchildren?”
May you find the words in your heart for those you leave behind.
Ruth Jewell, ©April 26, 2016
A Meditation from the Works of Julian of Norwich
Stained Glass window of Julian of Norwich,
Church of St. Julian, Norwich UK
For just as our bodies are clothed in garments,
our flesh enclosed by our skin,
our hearts centered in our body,
so are we, spirit and flesh,
clothed head to toe in the goodness of God.
But this metaphor hardly does justice,
for all things will decline and wear out.
God’s goodness, however, is everlasting,
and is incomparably nearer to us than our very flesh.
Julian of Norwich 14th century Anchorite
We are clothed in God, clothed in the goodness of God. These words have been especially comforting to me today as last week was an especially difficult one. Just knowing God, Spirit, and Christ are closer to me than my own flesh has kept me going.
Spiritual Practice:
During the day be especially sensitive to when God is present. At day’s end remember the times when you noticed God’s blessed presence. How did you feel?
Ruth Jewell, ©January 19, 2016
A Poem by Howard Thurman
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the Kings and Princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks,
The work of Christmas begins.
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry
To release the prisoner,
To teach the nations,
To bring Christ to all,
To make music in the heart.
Audio of Jim Strathdee singing I Am the Light of the World
Today, January 6th, is Epiphany, the day tradition tells us the Wise Men visited Jesus, Mary and Joseph. My mother used to call this day “little Christmas,” and she would prepare a special meal in the evening. I don’t remember gifts being exchanged but we did eat a lot, and usually finished up the Christmas cookies. But, it was years later when the song I Am the Light of the World by Jim Strathdee, based on Howard Thurman’s poem, came out that I began to look at this day differently.
Today instead of just thinking about nameless astrologers coming from the east and giving unusual gifts to the Child I see this day as less a celebration and more of a new start to living as Jesus taught. Thurman’s poem and Strathdee’s music remind us that Christmas isn’t just one day, 12 days, or the 34 days of Epiphany. (Yes, today only begins the season of Epiphany which will end on Ash Wednesday this year on February 10th when Lent begins.) We are called to carry the message of the love of compassion, justice and peace throughout the year. The season of Epiphany offers us the opportunity to make caring for our fellow travelers on this planet, human or animal, a habit. A habit that empowers the weak and the young, gives food to the hungry and compassion to our elderly, poor, lonely, homeless, and war torn neighbors in this place we call home. Strathdee’s hymn is the theme song for our work in the world, the work of Christmas.
Every year we are given the opportunity to begin again as Jesus followers. Every year we are reminded of who we are, and whose we are. Every year we are given another chance to live our lives in such a way as to bring change to the world. Every year we are given the chance to accept the radical challenge of being the Christ figure for the people we see and interact with every day. It is a radical idea! If each of our neighborhoods is changed, even a little, eventually we change the world and Jesus and God never asked us to be more than who we are, only to be the best that we can be.
To live with compassion, love justice and to travel in the company of the Divine is all we are asked to do. I don’t think that means a drastic change in our habits, rather it means we share what we have so that all have enough. Is that really so hard?
So I challenge myself, and you, to begin to change how we live in the world, feeding the hungry, helping the homeless, standing up and letting your voice be heard when justice is violated and oh so many other little acts of compassion. Each of us can do something. We don’t have to do everything at once simply pick one to get started, let one act of love become a habit this year.
Ruth Jewell, ©January 6, 2016
Luke 19:40: He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”
Power of 10 Are We Alone in the Universe,
Updated May 3, 2011 by Securityscience
Several years ago someone sent me this video that imagines going out from a 1 meter distance by a power of 10 up to 1020 Km or 10 million light years, then coming back to earth to 1 meter starting point and doing a reverse trip into a leaf by a power of ten to 10-16 meters or 100 Atómeters (that’s 0.0000000000000001 meters). What has always fascinated me we could have kept going forever if we are traveling away from earth, there is no limit that we know of to the distance we can travel. However, 10-16 is the smallest we can get if we reverse the trip. After this point all is mystery. What lies beyond that limit of 10-16?
While this video imagines going into leave they could just have easily imagined entering an atom of a rock. You see that place of mystery is found in all things, living or what we call non-living. Whether rock or human both are made of atoms and that means that this place of mystery is found in rocks, humans, our pets, trees, and air. What mystery does this place hold? What if our connection to all things created is found within this gigantic, tiny, place. What if, this is where the Divine can be found and how would that idea change the way you think about our planet, our universe.
When George Lucas created the story of Star Wars he consulted with the author Joseph Campbell about mythology and how it explains the unexplainable. From those conversations Lucas developed the concept of the “Force” surrounding and being within all things, not unlike this place of mystery in every atom. So might our search for the unexplainable be present within each of us?
Might it be that developing a relationship with the Creator requires us to look within ourselves, to listen to the inner “voice” that whispers to us at the edge of our consciousness. That is what the mystics tell us we should do. What if we should recognize the presence of the Creator in more than each other? That we should respect all created things, even rocks because the Creator, or however you name or depict the Divine, will be found there.
This week’s meditation
After you watch this video look at your hand and contemplate how the molecules and atoms that make up your hand resemble the greater universe. Then contemplate how the place of mystery compares to the limitlessness of space. Where might you find the greatest mystery of life? Contemplate how we as humans are connected to more than each other. Then ask yourself “what can I do, no matter how small, to help reconnect each of us to the Divine?”
Ruth Jewell, ©December 29, 2015.
“. . . a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” Genesis 1:2b, NRSV
I am sure all of you noticed we had a big windstorm 2 weeks ago. John and I lost our power on Saturday just before noon and didn’t get it back until after 3 pm on Sunday. For those of us in Edmonds that was a really long time. Normally our power losses are quite short due to the presence of the Hospital and the transit center so close to us, but not this time. What has been most frustrating for John and me is the lost of our internet, which we still don’t have, because we both have things to do. While I gladly gave up internet access when we were on Holiday in the spring I was not quite so happy without this time. I have things to do such as writing for my blogs, ordering pet food, doing activities for the committees I am on, you know the daily little things that we don’t normally think about but just do. However, we have finally been reconnected to the rest of the electronic world and so I am back at writing.
However, despite my irritation with the loss of technology, I have been thinking about the wind how strong it was, how persistent, and how loud. Wind, spirit, ruach, the Breath of G-d made me listen whether I wanted to or not. G-d made me stop and listen. I slowed down, and I listened to God speak. I heard tears in the wind for those whose lives were lost, in the storm, in the wild fires, in world conflict, and in the madness we call a gun culture. I heard laughter for those who thought technology was everything and, like John and I were, ‘forced’ to read by oil lamp or candle light.
Sometimes we need to stop and listen to the wind. Sometimes we need to slow down. Two lives were lost in that storm and we need to stop and offer a prayer. But for the rest of us our lives will go on with few changes to our daily routine. Saturday was an interruption nothing more unless we choose to learn from slowing down. Walk outside, or open a door or window, listen to the wind, take in the breath of G-d, listen for the sound of tears and laughter.\
May you feel the breath of G-d as it kisses your cheek, may your hear the still small voice in the gentle breeze, and in your moment of stillness may you know the presence of G-d.
Ruth Jewell, ©September 9, 2015
Psalm 95:7 For he is our God, . . . O that today you would hearken to his voice!
In the last couple of weeks as I have been recuperating from back surgery I have listened to a fair amount of music. Music centers me and reduces the amount of pain I have which means I can take fewer pain meds and that means fewer side effects.
As I was listening one day to Barbers “Adigio for Strings” I realized I was practicing a form of Lectio Divina, I hadn’t noticed doing that before and since then have purposely practiced what I call Audientes (that’s Latin for hearing) Divina. I have discovered some interesting insights and, I must admit, a greater sense of being as I went deeper into the music, or rather the music went deeper into me.
So I don’t know if anyone else has ever practiced this before, or have thought about it like this, but I am offering what I have been doing as a gift of my recuperation. Below you will find a clip of Samuel Barber’s Adigio for Strings and the instructions for my practice. I usually listen to chants, or instrumental pieces but I am sure there are other genres that produce the same meditative moments. If you find this useful, since this is a new way to “Hear God” as a practice at least from this perspective, please, let me know what types of music you use to enter into the quite center. Who knows maybe I too will hear the still small voice in something I haven’t tried before.
Samuel Barber – Adagio for Strings, op.11. Uncut
Original broadcast from the Albert Hall in London September 15 2001.
Leonard Slatkin conducts the BBC Orchestra.
Instructions for Audientes Divina
May you hear the voice of the Divine in the music of life.
Ruth Jewell, ©August 4, 2015
A Quiet Walk 