Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven!

- Jesus

There is a popular notion of “prosperity consciousness” going around which I’m sure has helped some people to stop limiting themselves. It’s not good to feel always lacking, as if there isn’t enough to go around. There is certainly an abundance of great things in the world.

Yet like so many other things, we tend to let a popular concept run away with us, and then we miss classic spiritual lessons — in this case, we miss the wonderful experience of our utter poverty of spirit which is essential to enlightenment.

Neem Karoli Baba once said to a disciple, “Serve the poor always,” and the disciple said, “But Baba, who’s poor?” and the great saint said, “Everyone is poor before Christ.” [the meaning of this is not just Christian; anybody of any religion can work with this teaching and experience something in keeping with their own religion.]

Something about that statement, “Everyone is poor before Christ” touched me so deeply, that most of my three years in retreat was spent looking into it. I especially remember one day, during a two-month period of silent prayer, when I was offering everything I could think of to God — mind, body, career, family, talents, energies, time, money, thoughts, opinions, past, future, everything I could think of — even my weaknesses, my vices, my suffering! And as I offered each thing, I saw clearly that it wasn’t mine to offer in the first place. Everything I named was already God’s, not mine!

The truth is, I had nothing to offer the One who has given me everything. I’ve never felt so totally poor. I saw crystal-clearly that I own nothing. The very idea of owning anything is ridiculous. I felt poor, and I felt ashamed having nothing to offer. And then I felt the most wonderful…..I guess humility is the closest word; the humility of our situation, the humility of being such utter panhandlers, receiving gifts of Grace constantly, even our every breath; I felt the mercifulness and Love of that Grace. I felt totally poor in Spirit, and I instantly experienced the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s really true that “theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” Notice that He didn’t say “theirs will be the Kingdom of Heaven;” it’s not something we have to wait until we die for! The moment we really GET our ultimate poverty before God, ours is the Kingdom of Heaven. For real.

The Practice

So here’s the practice: After a few minutes of meditation to quiet down, begin bringing to mind anything and everything you want to offer to God or to Life, whatever word you wish to use — and then ask yourself “Does this belong to me? Did I create it? Where did I get it? Am I able to hold it or keep it from changing?” Anything you can possibly think of under the heading of “MINE,” bring to mind for this practice. Where did it come from? Is it yours to keep?

With each thing that comes up, release the idea of it being yours, release the idea of it being permanent, release the idea of having total control over its destiny. Like taking stones out of a backpack, empty out every notion of “mine” that you can locate, and move toward your empty pack, your poverty of Spirit. When you get it, you’ll know it. And then you can come back into your life as a caretaker instead of proprietor, and you’ll be amazed at how much simpler and freer it feels just to work here, and not to own the shop!

We live in a great time; we’ve come so far. Because of transportation, mass communication, the world is becoming a single village. Most of us have access to the sacred teachings of basically any tradition, any religion that has ever existed. We can use that access, not to scatter ourselves, but to see “My God, it is the same, the Spirit is the same over here, the same over there.”

There’s an old saying about digging one well 200 feet deep rather than 20 wells 10 feet deep, and sometimes we’ve used that as an excuse for religious intolerance. But many of us have come to see that while it is true we should dig one deep well, we can use a shovel from Japan, a spade from India, a pick from Israel — tools and insights from any tradition to dig down to our depths.

What is this deep well, what is the Sacred Water it yields? The idea of living in spirit, the outlandishness of really living in Spirit, in the One, is an impossibility for our minds to grasp. We’ll read things in the Bible like:

My own peace I give you, such as the world cannot give. This is a peace which surpasses understanding.

and we go “Oh right! I get it!” No, let’s do it again:

This is a peace which surpasses understanding.

We go, “OH…now I see!” Nope, nope.

This is a peace which SURPASSES understanding!

Confused, deflated of pride, we say, “But I don’t understand…!” Ahh, finally! Now we’re beginning to get it.

I dissolved into the Emptiness, and discovered it was filled with Love.

- Father Dom Bede Griffiths

Going Full-time, Full-tilt

The most complex understanding I can imagine sustaining in the heart would be something like, “I have no idea what’s going on, but it has something to do with Love.” There’s no point arguing about the difference between this religion and that religion, this practice, that practice. Like the old saw, “Excuse me sir, how do I get to Carnegie Hall?” Do you remember the answer? PRACTICE! How can we simultaneously be a poor and nameless devotee of the one living spirit, yet be bursting with energy for making positive contributions to the world? Practice!

When Sita and I visited His Holiness the Dalai Lama earlier this year, I put all my attention into being present, open, receptive in the presence of such a great spiritual elder. I tried to look very practically — “He’s got two legs, two arms, a head, a nose. We both wake up in the morning, both go to sleep at night. What is the real functional difference between his experience and mine?”

One of the things I noticed is simply that he’s “full-time.” You and I will come together here this morning, and with enough mutual support and encouragement, we may open and open, and gradually be willing to feel the Living Spirit with each other, open and trusting and experiencing the preciousness of being together in this mystery where we are God yet we are separate, and we can’t figure it out but it has something to do with love.

And then the service ends and we go out to our cars and on the way home we stop for gas or at a bagel shop or whatever, and you and I are then willing to pretend with the gas station attendant or with the waiter or waitress at the bagel shop that life isn’t so sacred, that this is just a bagel going on, this is just getting gas; we won’t look in their eyes, we won’t be intimate; it’s like an unspoken agreement not to feel how precious we are to each other.

The Dalai Lama and Mother Teresa simply don’t turn it off! They go in there and see a Precious Child of God taking their Divine Credit Card for the Sacred Gas, and they don’t hide it from that person taking the credit card! Their whole presence says “It’s all equally sacred. Getting gas, praying in church, buying a bagel, all the same Mysterious Miracle. I live in Love, so of course I am in Love with you, and when I walk through that door then I’ll be in Love with whomever or whatever is through that door.”

A popular American Buddhist meditation teacher recently asked the Dalai Lama a question which seems to be a favorite notion in our culture — “Your Holiness, how do you feel about the issue of needing to take time for ourselves? You know, our need to drop out of our roles and just take time off, how do you feel about that?”

The Dalai Lama turned to his translator, Tenzin Geyche, who explained it a little more in Tibetan, but he still couldn’t understand the question. So the fellow rephrased it about four different times, and finally the Dalai Lama got it. He burst out laughing and said “Buddha time off? Bodhisattva time off? hahahahahaha.” What a concept!

Do we need time off from breathing? What would happen if we take time off from breathing? Every movement, every thought, every breath we take is our only begotten Son of God, God’s expression into the world. Why create separateness between “me and the community,” or “me and life,” with expressions like “I need time for myself, and I deserve it!” That just reinforces our duality.

Sure, we need to eat, relax, play with our family — but because it’s natural, not because there is any inherent conflict between altruism and self-care.

Besides, the only real rest from all our roles and identities would be, as the monk Father Theophane would put it, “to throw away our silly smiles, fall to our knees, clutch his hand and whisper, ‘Father!’”

That’s a perfect description of a period of daily spiritual practice: “I throw away my silly smile” — all my clever ideas, what I’m wearing, what I look like, who Bo Lozoff is, what I drive, how much money I earn, how much good I want to do in the world, what I’m going to say in this sermon… I throw away my silly ideas, fall to my knees, clutch his hand and whisper “Father”. That’s the opportunity we all have to take a real break from the tediousness and weariness of our worldly lives. Nothing less is truly “time off.”

The Great Equalities

One of the things I love most about the spiritual journey is the humbling equality with which we are born. Regardless of wealth or race or culture or era, we are all born with several conditions exactly the same:

The first Great Equality is that the moment we are born, whether we are born in a crack house or the White House, we have no idea when or how we will die. Thank you. Thank you, God, for making us so equal. We have no idea whether we will live to be 6 months old or 105. The Greatest Humbler of all!

The second Great Equality is that we have no idea who or what the most important influences of our lives will be. Looking back on the past, we may say, “Wow, little did I know when I woke up that one fateful morning, that was the day my life would change forever…” But when we actually woke up that morning, it was impossible to see. It takes practice to realize equally every day of our lives, every moment, every person we meet, “This could be the most important experience of my life.” That attitude of perpetual openness is reflected in the core of both the Jewish and Christian traditions, of being ready every moment for the appearance of the Messiah — the instrument of our deepest salvation. It can come in any form, from joy or sorrow, success or failure, alone or with multitudes. We must therefore have infinite respect for the spiritual potential of all people and experiences.

The third Great Equality — our Common Tasks. We also are born with several equal duties. One of the interesting ideas that has come up over the past 30 years in the West is “I create my own reality.” There is, of course, some truth in that. We surely create some of the mind-body attitudes which can lead to illness or health, but to take that idea into the realm of the deepest spiritual truths is to miss the boat by a mile.

We don’t really create all our own reality. If you say “I choose for my heart to digest food instead of pump blood,” that’s simply not going to work. There is a certain obedience and surrender required to the natural and spiritual laws. The stomach digests food, the heart pumps blood, the lungs process air. Everybody is born with many equal physical responsibilities.

Everyone is born with a spiritual responsibility also, as specific as our hearts pumping blood: We must learn to love one another, to receive and express goodness. It doesn’t matter whether we believe in it or not. Obey it and we will thrive, disobey it and we won’t. Period. Isn’t that wonderful? Our human justice system may be all screwed up, but the Divine Law treats us absolutely equally.

Look all over the world and see the people who unselfishly receive and express goodness, who are dedicated to the cause of love. They’re the only people who are truly happy. They have tapped into the one mysterious, wonderful connectedness that frees them to live full-time in love. Some of them had great childhoods, some were horribly abused, some are pretty, some are homely, some tall, some short, rich, poor — our situations are always unequal, but life does not judge us by where we’ve been, what we own, or what has been done to us; life judges us by what we do.

When the Flesh Becomes Word….

Every religion tells us in one way or another that “the Word becomes flesh.” But we, the flesh, must become the Word as well. That’s what happens when we are enlightened — a constant loop of the Word becoming flesh and the flesh becoming Word endlessly. Nobody home but God; no ego-self experiencing fear and selfishness; nothing going on but the Sacred being con-scious of being Sacred, of existing simultaneously as formless and form; word and flesh; Divine Love and Human Compassion.

There’s something in the East called Sanatana Dharma, which roughly means “Eternal, Universal Truth,” and it consists of only three principles:

1. There is indeed something transcendent, beyond comprehension, something divine. It’s real. It exists.
2. Each of us —you and I, not just the Dalai Lama, St. Francis, Mother Teresa — but you and I, can and must directly experience this divinity.
3. That is the only purpose of life. Everything else, who we are, what we look like, how old, how wealthy, how poor, how much or how little we suffer or find happiness, what we do for a living, what we do in the world, how many children we have, EVERYTHING else, everything is a support system toward our direct experience of the eternal Great Mystery.

There are so many compelling forces pushing us to forget that all life is sacred, that this is all just a process of our experiencing God. There are so many compelling forces saying “You need this” and “you need that,” and “be wary of that” and “be afraid of her” and “be upset over what they did to you.” How can we possibly remember that we are the flesh becoming the Word of God? PRACTICE! It takes a lot of practice to remember our depth when we’re being constantly hustled to be shallow and materialistic toward the goals of a culture built around consumerism.

We Need Some Elders, and It’s US…

Coming out of retreat and looking around at my own culture, looking at the crises that we are in, the problems that exist in the American family, I saw that on one hand, many of us have come a long way in order to be able to acknowledge Eastern masters, saints from other traditions. But where are the American realized beings? Where are our enlightened elders, where are the “Word become Flesh” in people who share our cultural experience, who share the bombardment of Ninja Turtles and McDonalds and all of that, who come from the same place, yet have transformed entirely and died into the living spirit “for the benefit of all beings?”

I started thinking, “I’ll bet there are some in monasteries, convents, caves right now who are from the American culture and are just about ready to come out and say “Here we are, ” but that didn’t really fly, because a little voice in me said “Schmuck, you’re it!” Me. You. Little old us. If not me or you, it’s not going to happen.

The American realized beings, people whose motivation is so compassionate toward our own people, our own unique situation of being brought up in this bizarre combination of unparalleled affluence amid vast spiritual loneliness and confusion — they’ve got to come from among us. Are we willing? Our people are so confused and dismayed, so fearful, jaded, and unhappy, can we take that as inspiration and encouragement to get on with our awakening?

What is it that turns us into a being whose very presence quietly, modestly evokes the best in others? It’s practice, and then putting what we practice into expression. So that’s what I mean by Sacred Living, Sacred Practice.

What this country needs more than anything else is for us to become elders, walking the streets and doing our jobs, really happy, classic, ageless spiritual human beings. So that’s the opportunity we have and I don’t think any people in the history of the world has ever had more access to the methods and ideas for how to do that. We are very fortunate in that way, even if you’re in prison. I love you very much and I thank you for being right where you are.

Those in future generations who study and practice the truth of these teachings will be blessed. …They will attain the insight necessary to perceive the Great Truth. Following this truth with unabashed sincerity, they will become it: Whole, courageous, indestructible, and unnameable.

- Lao Tzu, approx. 2500 years ago (translated by Brian Walker)

Dear Family,

Religion was never supposed to be complicated, abstract or distant from our daily life. In fact, both religion and philosophy arise from the most real, most practical questions of our existence: What are we doing here, and how can we make life work? Every thoughtful person, not just intellectuals or preachers, wrestles with those basic questions at some time or other.

For thousands of years, religions, philosophies, saints and sages have tried to help us find the answers to those two simple questions. We have usually been content to argue and even kill each other over the differences in their teachings, but when we let go of such fearful separateness and look honestly at the similarities instead, we discover that the great “Wisdom Traditions” all point in exactly the same two directions: Inner transcendence (Communion), and unselfish behavior (Community).

What Are We Doing Here?

In response to the first question, “What are we doing here?,” the Holy Ones have all said 1) It’s way beyond your understanding, so give up trying to figure it out with the mind; and 2) Look within, look beyond the mind, be STILL, go to the Secret Place within the heart. In other words, they point to an experience of direct contact with the Christ—Allah—Great Spirit—The Almighty -Yahweh – Buddha Mind, etc., which can only be found by going inside, past all our notions about self or God. Lao Tzu’s poem (below) sums it up perfectly: Learn how to remain in the Center, watching — and then forget that you are there. A word for this which no tradition would argue with is COMMUNION. The Great Religions and masters tell us to diligently seek Communion.

The ego is a monkey catapulting through the jungle:
Totally fascinated by the realm of the senses,
it swings from one desire to the next,
one conflict to the next,
one self-centered idea to the next.
If you threaten it, it actually fears for its life.
Let this monkey go.
Let the sense go.
Let desires go.
Let conflicts go.
Let ideas go.
Let the fiction of life and death go.
Just remain in the center watching.

And then forget that you are there.

-Lao Tzu

How Can We Make Life Work?

In response to the second question, the holy teachings, once again, have each expressed exactly the same advice, the same ethics and standards for human behavior: Be kind to one another; love thy neighbor as thyself; do unto others as you would have them do unto you; live for a mightier cause than selfishness; serve the poor; make the world a better place. Another simple, unarguable word sums it up: COMMUNITY. The Holy Ones all tell us to dedicate our lives to the Community. Lao Tzu says it in a way that gives us no excuses:

Or, as Neem Karoli Baba put it over two thousand years later, “Do whatever you must with people, but never shut anyone out of your heart, even for a moment.” It’s all the same teaching.

As Soon As…

It’s easy to think of family and friends as “community,” and everyone else as strangers, associates, rivals or even enemies whom we just have to cope with in order to make a living, do our time, get ahead, etc. It’s easy to think “I’ll practice Community and Communion as soon as I get home from work, as soon as I get out of prison, as soon as my boss stops picking on me, as soon as things smooth out for me, as soon as, as soon as…”

It just doesn’t work that way. Our community is exactly where we are at every moment during the day; exactly whom life places in front of us at any time. That’s the whole point! That idiot, that lecher, that bully, that pervert, that con, that cop, that snitch, that bureaucrat who drives us up the wall, that windbag politician on TV — everyone we see, hear, or meet must be respected as a brother or sister on the path, even if they have no idea there is such a thing as a path.

Clearly, this practice of Community is not for cowards; it’s challenging and confusing, and it’s full time. The world has become quite a mess from people only practicing it on the Sabbath, or in places where it’s easy, or with people who are nice. We need some humble heroes who take it on full time. This means you. Now. Today.

Not as soon as, but now. Not when you get happier, but now. Not when people treat you more fairly, but now. Not when the world is a safer, kinder place. NOW. In the middle of the worst of it.

No one else in the world can play your unique role. God knows where you are, knows about your depression or anxiety, the people you face, your weaknesses, your past, your fears and doubts. Communion and Community are not for later, they are your ticket out of Hell! If you decide to devote your inner life to Communion and your outer life to Community, that little suffering self doesn’t have anywhere to exist!

Don’t just say it or plan it; act on it today even in the tiniest ways. If you are in prison, think about how long you have been there, and then ask yourself honestly whether the prison or anyone in it is better off because you have been there. Get to work. Make Communion and Community real. If you spend even a moment in humble silent reflection, if you help even one person or creature to feel safer or more loved, you will be on the road to the Great Recovery.

The Great Recovery

The Great Recovery is from the terrible addiction of self-centered living. That’s the recovery all the prophets and sages have encouraged us to seek. Our whole modern world is hooked on looking out for #1, yet the more we do it, the worse we feel. So we up the dose of selfishness. It’s classic addiction.

If the ancients are right — that Community and Commu-nion are the only ways we’re ever going to feel the joy of being alive, then imagine how it might feel if a whole nation lost touch with both Community and Communion. What would that be like? Well, as the late American sage Joseph Campbell said, “Just pick up the New York Times or turn on the TV. We’re living in what it would be like.”

And it’s pretty sad. It reminds me of the dogs at the race track who never get to catch the rabbit. Not only do they not get to catch it, but it wasn’t even a rabbit in the first place — just painted plywood! That’s how we and our kids are getting ripped off daily by chasing after all the “stuff” that’s supposed to make us happy but never will.

The only way we can restore Community and Communion in our society is first to restore it in our own lives: Just practice community in everything we do, and take time each day to seek communion beyond all names, forms, or identities.

Going It Alone

Few of us are ever in the ideal situation where everyone around us changes at the same time, or all the rules suddenly become fair. Most of the time we have to start this humble hero’s journey by ourselves, with little or no support.

But then we receive the invisible support of Truth itself, because Community and Communion are a truer way than fear and selfishness. As Malcolm X discovered in prison, there is soul-power in taking a True Path. The harder it is, the more soul-power we gain. If it weren’t so hard, we wouldn’t gain so much commitment, courage, and faith. If it weren’t so hard, Jesus, Mohammed, Moses, Buddha and the rest would have preached to us from comfortable thrones instead of showing us the way through persecution, discomfort, rejection. It’s hard because that’s what it takes to move us beyond the ego; once we do, life isn’t so hard anymore; even with all the same conditions in place, we find true peace and dignity.

Is There Truth In Your Goals?

Sita and I have visited a lot of treatment programs lately, both in and outside of prisons. We’ve spoken to a lot of people who have been through the doors not just once, but two, three, four, five times — good people with decent hearts and a lot of sincerity, but who seem to keep finding themselves caught in addiction.

They ask why? Why can’t I lead a good life? Why do I keep screwing everything up? I asked many of them what their treatment goals were, and received the same answer I’ve heard for over twenty years: “I just want to stay clean and sober, get a decent job, get back with my family, have a nice little place to live, a decent set of wheels… I’m a good person; I deserve it, don’t I ?”

Those goals sound right, don’t they? They would be applauded on Oprah or Donahue. But are they enough to create a happy life? “Me and mine” is basically what they amount to. “Me and my family.” The practice of Community gets reduced to just a few people you love the most. And Communion gets shoved aside by the never-ending effort to catch all those plywood rabbits. Even if you’re chasing them for your family and not yourself, they’re still just plywood.

The fascinating thing is, if you investigate the anatomy of recovery failures — and most recidivism in general — you find two types — one which occurs during the first year, and the other between the second and third years.

The people who go back to using drugs (or other crime) during the first year seem to crumble because they fail to achieve one or more of those standard goals: Their spouse kicks them out, or they can’t find a decent job, etc., and they give up pretty quickly. It seems like an easy situation to understand: They didn’t reach their goals, so they got discouraged and gave up.

But here’s the fascinating part: The people who crumble between the second and third years, seem to fail because they reach the goals. Everyone has been there for them, gone out on a limb for them, they’re loved and fed and employed… and that old constant craving begins again, and they keep it as a deep secret, until they are filled with shame and guilt, thinking “I must be a really horrible, ungrateful person to be craving drugs again after everyone has helped me so much; I must be rotten to the core.” From there it’s a pretty quick slide to “I may as well go ahead and get it over with; I’ll never be any good, and they all may as well find out already.”

The real tragedy is, they’re not horrible people, they simply didn’t understand that their “me and my family” goals were simply not big enough goals. They got what they wanted, and something inside was still empty and craving, because “me and mine” is not enough to make a whole, happy human being. Not wickedness, but simple ignorance, was responsible for their failure. Has it happened to you, too? Will it happen next time?

Hit The Ground Running

If you’re getting out soon, what has been your attitude about life on the streets? Has it been about showing up in your neighhood and saying, “Sorry I’ve been gone; how can I help out?” or has it been more like “First I want to… and then I want… and boy, I’ve missed… and I hope that I can get… and there’d better be some good programs for me….and my family had better help me…”?

Please try to understand that your family and friends have probably been struggling just as much as you have; life is pretty hard everywhere. If you want the soul-power of truth to be with you, then show up and start helping out. Hit the ground running. Make it clear that their lives will be easier now because you’re home, not harder. Apologize for being away while they needed you.

Plug into the problems in your community and share your experiences and ideas. We need you out here, I assure you. The kids in your neighborhood especially need to meet some truly good people who are not lily-white goody-goody, but are real, like you. Neither lie about your past, nor carry on about it. Let them meet a real adult who has been humbled by his or her pain, and is transforming it into compassion, peace, and simple happiness. Give your life away to your community and see what you get back.

Breathing Out, Breathing Out, Breathing Out…..

But remember Communion as well as Community. Trying to dedicate yourself entirely through outward activity, no matter how much you seem to be helping others, will sooner or later chew you up and spit you out if you don’t take time for inner silence. It’s like trying to breathe out all the time without breathing in. How long can that last? Be sure you breathe in, too, so that you’re helping others from a deeper place.

Now You’re An Expert On Religion

If you know — really know — that all religions boil down to Communion and Community, you could meet the Pope or the Dalai Lama, an imam or minister, rabbi or shaman, and they would welcome you as a holy friend and agree that you understand the heart of their religion: An inner journey beyond all words, and an outward path of devoting ourselves to others. Countless different methods, but they all lead in those same two directions. Now we know the road. Let’s travel it together.

Angulimala was a notorious bandit who lived at the time of the Buddha. Once he stalked the Buddha on a trail through the forest with the intention of robbing or killing him. The Buddha walked along slowly, peacefully, just a short distance ahead of Angulimala. But Angulimala could not overtake him. The Buddha continued at the same pace while Angulimala kept speeding up until he was running as fast as he could, but the distance between them mysteriously remained the same. Finally, exasperated and breathless, Angulimala called out angrily, STOP! The Buddha turned and said, “No, Angulimala, it is you who must stop. I have already stopped harmfulness, deceit, greed, hatred and delusion.” Angulimala instantly became a disciple who reached enlightenment in that very lifetime.

In the spiritual community in which I live, we stop speaking at 10 PM each night. During our work day we practice mindfulness, which is simply to stop thinking or speaking of anything other than the task at hand. When conflicts arise, we come together not to accuse, but expressly to stop feeling ill-will and distrust so that we can see beyond self-protectionism and personal symbols. Our morning and evening meditation practice is the most challenging form of stopping. First we seat the body in a way which enables us to stop moving or fidgeting. Then we stop looking around. Finally we strive as best we can to stop perceiving ourselves through the usual ceaseless mental chatter we have grown accustomed to.

In fact, most of the great spiritual commandments, precepts and teachings throughout history have been merely guidelines for what we should stop doing. Most of the ten commandments start with “Thou Shalt Not…”; the Buddhist precepts and Hindu Yamas and Niyamas start with “Non…,” as in “non-killing, non-stealing, non-lying,” etc. Many contemporary people have complained about such overwhelmingly negative wording in the ancient teachings, but there is a good reason for it: There really isn’t anything to do in order to realize the Divine Presence, the natural Holiness which life offers. We have merely to stop thinking and acting in ways which are harmful or selfish. Think about your own life for a moment, and the main improvements you would like to make: Don’t most of them involve stopping — smoking, drinking, drug use, uncontrolled lust, anger, fear, self-hatred, etc.; just stopping what keeps you bound?

The Great Teachings unanimously emphasize that all the peace, wisdom and joy in the universe are already within us; we don’t have to gain, develop, or attain them. Like a child standing in a beautiful park with his eyes shut tight, there’s no need to imagine trees, flowers, deer, birds and sky, we merely need to open our eyes and realize what is already here, whom we already are — as soon as we stop pretending we’re small or unholy. This is not a philosophy; this is the way things are.

I could characterize nearly any spiritual practice as simply being: Identify and Stop. Identify the myriad forms of limitation and delusion we place upon ourselves, and muster the courage to stop perpetuating each one. Little by little, deep inside of us, the diamond shines, the eyes open, the dawn rises, we become what we already are. Tat Twam Asi — Thou Art That (as soon as Thou stops pretending otherwise).

The final invitation from the saints and sages is to stop even the last sense of self — true ego-death, to leap into the volcano as a human sacrifice, followed by a resurrection from the ashes as a Perfect One. The BIG Stopping! The consequence of this ultimate stopping is pithily described in a little story by Father Theophane in his book, Tales of a Magic Monastery [available from our store]:

I sat there in awe as the old monk answered our questions. Though I’m usually shy, I felt so comfortable in his presence that I found myself raising my hand. “Father, could you tell us something about yourself? He leaned back. “Myself?” He mused. There was a long pause. “My name…used to be…Me. But now…it’s you.”

On June 17th, 1744, the commissioners from Maryland and Virginia negotiated a treaty with the Indians of the Six Nations at Lancaster, Pennsylvania. The Indians were invited to send their boys to William and Mary College. The next day they declined the offer as follows:

We know that you highly esteem the kind of learning taught in those Colleges, and that the Maintenance of our young Men, while with you, would be very expensive to you. We are convinced, that you mean to do us Good by your Proposal; and we thank you heartily. But you, who are wise must know that different Nations have different Conceptions of things and you will therefore not take it amiss, if our ideas of this kind of Education happen not to be the same as yours.

We have had some Experience of it. Several of our young People were formerly brought up at the Colleges of the Northern Provinces: they were instructed in all your Sciences; but, when they came back to us, they were bad Runners, ignorant of every means of living in the woods…neither fit for Hunters, Warriors, nor Counsellors, they were totally good for nothing.

We are, however, not the less obliged by your kind Offer, tho’ we decline accepting it; and, to show our grateful Sense of it, if the Gentlemen of Virginia will send us a Dozen of their Sons, we will take care of their Education, instruct them in all we know, and make Men of them.

- from Touch the Earth by T.C. McLuhan

Dear Family,

I got a phone call recently from a young man in Atlantic City, New Jersey. He said, “A friend of mine told me I was heading down the wrong road, and that I really need to get your books to steer me back in the right direction.” I asked him what wrong road he was taking, and he said he was using drugs again. He has been out of prison since 1993 and has been doing “so-so,” but he knew that he was starting the Big Slide again and was desperate for help.

I said, “Well, you don’t need my books to know that drugs are going to screw up your life. You need to do whatever it takes – twelve steps, counseling, detox, whatever – to stop using drugs immediately. You have to stop. You already know that. Don’t wait for my books. You need to do it today.”

He said he had already been through groups and rehab, and maybe he would go again, but wasn’t sure how long it would hold up. So I asked him to tell me what his life was about. He said that he has an apartment and works at Bally’s Casino. That’s it. That’s his life.

I told him I’d probably be doing drugs too if that were all my life was about. Working every day in a greed-filled, decadent environment, witnessing pathetic gamblers, prostitutes, drug dealers, gangsters, wealthy people, poor people, young people, elderly people, wasting their time in pursuits that have absolutely nothing to do with the meaning or purpose of human life; if all he’s doing is working there and going back and forth to his apartment – that’s not life, that’s hell. He was silent for a while.

I asked him what he believed in. What is important to him? What brings him joy? What noble cause, what passion, inspires him? He was silent again for a minute and then said, “I don’t know; just living, you know, just hanging out.” I asked him what he was good at or interested in — anything that he might strive to become better at, whether carpentry or auto mechanics or music or art or anything at all. “I don’t know, nothing, I guess.”

I told him we’d send our books, but there was no magic recipe which will help him create a delicious life out of such rancid ingredients. He needs a bigger change. I encouraged him to look into his heart, talk with others, develop some worthwhile interests, find a cause he can believe in and work hard to support…. after about five minutes of which he meekly said, “Well, listen, um, thanks for sending me the books; I appreciate you taking the call,” and hung up the phone.

Before reading on, please take a moment or two to send that brother in New Jersey a silent blessing from your heart that he may find his way, that he may find a decent vision to follow. Please send him your love.

Why Do So Many Of Us Feel Useless or Powerless?

How is it that millions of people in our modern society reach adulthood having almost no values, interests or useful skills? It is a big mistake to assume that this is just a matter of underprivileged kids needing a better education! Privileged kids are just as lost and apathetic, and usually even less skilled in practical things like fixing a flat tire or repairing a leaky roof. These days, few kids of any socio-economic group feel any link to their ancestors’ honor or their unborn children’s’ future, or any ideal larger than “I don’t know, just living, you know, just hanging out.”

In her recent book, Jesus Meets Buddha, Sister Ayya Khema says that the Buddha listed fifteen qualities which are essential for a good life. At the very top of the list is “To Be Able“. To be a capable person, to have a variety of skills that come in handy, give us self-respect, and which provide various honorable ways to make a living.

The Jewish culture has a well-known word for such a person: Mensch. A mensch is someone whom you can loan your car to without worrying about it; someone who can figure out how to get the crumbly piece of toast out of the toaster without electrocuting anybody; someone whom you would like to work with, or have next to you in a fire, or a stuck elevator, or an earthquake or hurricane.

What does it take to be able, to be a mensch? It seems to me that it takes three things which should be the framework of any educational system or model of childraising:

1. Learning the classic spiritual and moral values which are common to any civilization – mercy, kindness, justice, courage, etc.
2. Learning practical skills relevant to the basics – food, shelter, warmth, health. Such self-reliance is the core of self-respect and common sense.
3. Developing self-discipline and adaptability so one doesn’t fall apart in hard times. Not needing to be pampered. Not being so touchy or needy.

A Different View of Childhood

In the ancient Hindu culture, even the most privileged kids, the children of kings and emperors, were sent into the forest ashrams of rugged sages at a very young age to live without any luxuries and learn true unselfishness.

In most other ancient cultures too, childhood was mainly about learning those three things: Values, skills, and self-discipline. This is what gives us a sense of connection to others, a sense of our place in the great scheme of life, a sense of responsibility to the common good. If we separate kids from any duties in the real world, we inadvertently remove their deepest sense of value as well.

That may be the chief reason modern American kids are so lost and angry. American childhood is unnaturally insulated and separate from the adult world. “Generation gap” is not a natural human phenomenon; it’s a serious problem we have created by having so little to do with our children’s daily lives. Many kids don’t know or care what their parents do for a living. The kids have no direct importance to their family’s daily needs or maintenance. Even the government calls children “dependents.” Is that a good message?

We may see American childhood as “giving them a chance just to be kids, just to have fun while they can.” But in reality the effect seems to make them bored, agitated, and hopeless. People of every age need to be useful, and need to be skilled at something.

If we provide no opportunities for kids to be responsible, skilled, and needed; no meaningful initiations from one stage of childhood to another, then children will form their own groups – gangs, social cliques, Satanic groups – in which they can experience initiation, define their identity and value to the group, pledge their loyalty, and learn the skills relevant to that group – even if the relevant skills happen to be using a credit card to pick a lock, or shoving an icepick through the exact location between two ribs so that it punctures an enemy’s heart.

A Nation of Mensches

Helena Norberg Hodge, a British woman who spent many years living in the tiny Himalayan country of Ladakh, points out that before our modern western educational system came to Ladakh, the society was basically a whole nation of mensches!

Children grew up learning their society’s values of compassion, nonviolence and harmony, and virtually every boy and girl, by the time they reached adolescence, knew how to raise food, mend clothes, care for animals, build houses, construct complex irrigation systems — in short, Ladakhi youngsters naturally became moral and capable young adults.

Now “progress” has come. Thousands of children are removed from their villages, crammed into classrooms to memorize facts and recite their times tables. They no longer learn from their parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents; they no longer share the responsibility of food production, warmth, shelter, child care; they now have a more “privileged” childhood.

But as Ms Hodge explains, when their education is finished and they return to their villages, they are essentially useless. They have been cut off from the wealth of values, skills and traditions which have made the Ladakhis a happy people for hundreds of years. Many of them then migrate to the larger cities around India or Nepal, becoming prostitutes or drug abusers or working for minimum wage and being as aimless as our friend in Atlantic City at the beginning of this article. It’s a very sad situation, similar to the devastation of the Native American cultures in the USA

Josh’s Two Complaints

In 1991, Sita and I celebrated our 25th anniversary by spending the day with our son, Josh, in a remote spot at the bottom of the Rio Grande Gorge in northern New Mexico. The three of us took the opportunity to clean out all our old baggage with each other, air any secrets, deepen our sense of love and connection and loyalty to each other. Josh was twenty at the time.

At one point during the day I asked Josh if there was any way we had let him down as parents. He said there were actually two ways. “First of all, whenever something was hard for me to do, you guys helped me so much that I didn’t develop much self-discipline. That hurt me a lot when I got to L.A. I had to develop all my self-discipline on my own. You didn’t help me become very tough or adaptable.

“The second thing is, Dad, do you remember when I was fourteen and I told you that as soon as I finished high school I wanted to go out to L.A. to be an actor, and that I didn’t want to go to college?” I said that I remembered, and he continued, “Well, you told me that I would have your blessing to do so on one condition: That by the time I left home, I was a skilled carpenter. That way, whether I succeeded in my acting career or not, I would still be able to make a good living and feel the satisfaction of working with my hands.”

Once again, I said I remembered. Then Josh said, “But you didn’t make me do it. You didn’t force me to become a good carpenter, and you gave me your blessing anyway. You should have stuck by your word.”

I said, “But I tried! I built five buildings between the time you were fourteen and the time you left home, and I tried to get you to help me on every one of them. You didn’t like it; it was like pulling teeth to get you to help. So I gave up. I didn’t want to force you.”

Josh replied, “That’s exactly what I mean: You should have forced me. You were the parent and I was the kid. You set a condition for your blessing and then you didn’t make me live up to it. You should have made me become a good carpenter whether I liked it or not.”

Sita and I sincerely asked his forgiveness on both those accounts. He asked for ours on a few other things. It was a great day – a renewal of deep affection and trust. I recommend such an occasional event to any family. And once again, it reminded us that kids don’t want to be in a fantasy world of their own, they want to be needed and involved and held accountable, even though they may resist it.

The Common Myth of “Personal Freedom”

Most people think of personal freedom as doing whatever they want to do; our media images of personal freedom always depict self-centered pleasures and irresponsibility ¾ “getting away from it all,” “taking the phone off the hook,” “luxuriating in a bubble bath,” “being rich enough not to care what others think,” etc. . But human beings exist in relation to each other. Real personal freedom is being able to respond to whatever our situation or circumstances require from us. Ability to respond. Respond-ability. Responsibility.

If I don’t know how to swim, and I walk by a lake where a child is drowning, I may passionately want to save her but not have the personal freedom to do it. I may have a million dollars in my pocket, I may be president of the United States, but if I don’t know how to swim, that child will still drown. Motivation is only one part of freedom. Skill is another.

Many things limit our true personal freedom. If we are unskilled, illiterate, addicted, greedy, short-tempered, we will not be very free. We will always be victims of forces outside of our control. Even addiction to cigarettes, coffee, or sweets or a certain amount of sleep or particular working conditions compromises our personal freedom.

Needing to be “validated” or “acknowledged” by others also prevents us from being free. The popular sentiment “I just want to be loved” is a veritable anthem of slavery, not a song of freedom. When we focus on our ability to give love instead our need to receive it, that’s when we set foot on the path to true liberation.

Cutting Out the Old and the Young

The truth is, real freedom, real joy, require a sense of one’s “fit” in the great scheme of things. In order to feel connected to Life, we must contribute something positive toward the common good. Children and elderly people are no exception. By sheltering children from responsibility and putting the elderly out to pasture, we have unwittingly created an angry, aimless younger generation and a lonely, unappreciated older generation.

Many Americans assume this is simply what it means to be young or to be old. But anyone who has traveled in other cultures knows this is not true. Children can be happy, respectful, capable. The elderly can be radiantly peaceful, lucid, venerated.

Life is a holy and mysterious process all the way through. It’s not just about making a living. There are wonders and challenges in every stage of life. Each stage is worthy of equal respect. Each stage requires values, skill, and self-discipline. And in every stage, we need each other. We need younger, middle-aged and older people around us, not just others our own age. We are ever and always part of each other. We either walk into Heaven arm in arm or we don’t get in at all.

Making the Change

At this moment, there are many millions of angry young people, lonely old people, and lost, unhappy people like our friend in Atlantic City. The situation won’t turn around overnight. But each one of us can begin the process of turning it around by sizing up our own lives with respect to values, skills, and self-discipline and doing whatever we need to do in order to bring those qualities up to our liking. We can look at how we are treating our children and elders and see whether we are allowing them their own areas of usefulness and responsibility, even if they fuss about it for a while.

We can steadily dismantle every notion we have that freedom is about money or accomplishments or prestige or recreation, and we can cease passing such empty notions on to our kids. We can develop common sense and basic skills, at any age, so that we become more self-reliant and adaptable to changing circumstances. We can size up our way of talking and make sure that we say what we mean and mean what we say; no hidden agendas or broken promises to ourselves or others.

In short, these are the qualities of a basic Mensch, and the world badly needs more mensches. Values, skills, and self-discipline make for a more enjoyable experience of living, more self-respect and confidence and friendliness to others. We can put ourselves and our kids and our elders back on the time-honored path to freedom and see how it begins to affect the folks next door and down the block. Everyone wants to feel better these days. A humble personal step in the right direction is a contribution to the whole world and to all future generations

The train clanked and rattled through the suburbs of Tokyo on a drowsy spring afternoon. Our car was comparatively empty – a few housewives with their kids in tow, some old folks going shopping. I gazed absently at the drab houses and dusty hedgerows.

At one station the doors opened, and suddenly the afternoon quiet was shattered by a man bellowing violent, incomprehensible curses. The man staggered into our car. He wore laborer’s clothing, and he was big, drunk, and dirty. Screaming, he swung at a woman holding a baby. The blow sent her spinning into the laps of an elderly couple. It was a miracle that the baby was unharmed.

Terrified, the couple jumped up and scrambled toward the other end of the car. The laborer aimed a kick at the the retreating back of the old woman, but missed as she scuttled to safety. This so enraged the drunk that he grabbed the metal pole in the center of the car and tried to wrench it out of its stanchion. I could see that one of his hands was cut and bleeding. The train lurched ahead, the passengers frozen with fear. I stood up.

I was young then, and in pretty good shape. I’d been putting in a solid eight hours of Aikido training nearly every day for the past three years. I thought I was tough. Trouble was, my martial skill was untested in actual combat. As students of Aikido, we were not allowed to fight.

“Aikido,” my teacher said again and again, “is the art of reconciliation. Whoever has the mind to fight has broken his connection with the universe. If you try to dominate people, you are already defeated. We study how to resolve conflict, not how to start it.”

I listened to his words. I tried hard. I even went so far as to cross the street to avoid the chimpira, the pinball punks who lounged around the train station. My forebearance exalted me. I felt both tough and holy. In my heart, however, I wanted an absolutely legitimate opportunity whereby I might save the innocent by destroying the guilty.

This is it” I said to myself, getting to my feet. People are in danger and if I don’t do something fast, they will probably get hurt.

Seeing me stand up, the drunk recognized a chance to focus his rage. “Aha!,” he roared. “A foreigner! You need a lesson in Japanese manners!”

I held on lightly to the commuter strap overhead and gave him a slow look of disgust and dismissal. I planned to take this turkey apart, but he had to make the first move. I wanted him mad, so I pursed my lips and blew him an insolent kiss.

“All right!” he hollered, “You’re gonna get a lesson!” He gathered himself for a rush at me.

A split second before he could move, someone shouted “Hey!” It was earsplitting. I remember the strangely joyous, lilting quality of it – as though you and a friend had been searching diligently for something, and he suddenly stumbled upon it. “Hey!”

I wheeled to my left; the drunk spun to his right. We both stared down at a little old Japanese. He must have been well into his seventies, this tiny gentleman, sitting there immaculate in his kimono. He took no notice of me, but beamed delightedly at the laborer, as though he had a most important, most welcome secret to share.

“C’mere,” the old man said in an easy tone, beckoning to the drunk. “C’mere and talk with me.” He waved his hand lightly.

The big man followed, as if on a string. He planted his feet belligerently in front of the old gentleman, and roared above the clacking wheels, “Why the hell should I talk to you?” The drunk now had his back to me. If his elbow dropped so much as a millimeter, I’d drop him in his socks.

The old man continued to beam at the laborer. “What’cha been drinkin’?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with interest. “I been drinkin’ sake,” the laborer bellowed back, “and it’s none of your business!” Flecks of spittle spattered the old man.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” the old man said, “absolutely wonderful! You see, I love sake too. Every night, me and my wife (she’s 76, you know), we warm up a little bottle of sake and take it out into the garden, and we sit on an old wooden bench. We watch the sun go down, and we look to see how our persimmon tree is doing. My great-grandfather planted that tree, and we worry about whether it will recover from those ice storms we had last winter. Our tree has done better than I expected, though, especially when you consider the poor quality of the soil. It is gratifying to watch when we take our sake and go out to enjoy the evening – even when it rains!” He looked up at the laborer, his eyes twinkling.

As he struggled to follow the old man’s conversation, the drunk’s face began to soften. His fists slowly unclenched. “Yeah,” he said, “I love persimmons too…” His voice trailed off.

“Yes,” said the old man, smiling, “and I’m sure you have a wonderful wife.”

“No,” replied the laborer. “My wife died.” Very gently, swaying with the motion of the train, the big man began to sob. “I don’t got no wife, I don’t got no home, I don’t got no job. I’m so ashamed of myself.” Tears rolled down his cheeks; a spasm of despair rippled through his body.

Now it was my turn. Standing there in my well-scrubbed youthful innocence, my make-this-world-safe-for-democracy righteousness, I suddenly felt dirtier than he was.

Then the train arrived at my stop. As the doors opened, I heard the old man cluck sympathetically. “My my,” he said, “that is a difficult predicament indeed. Sit down here and tell me about it.”

I turned my head for one last look. The laborer was sprawled on the seat, his head in the old man’s lap. The old man was softly stroking the filthy, matted hair.

As the train pulled away, I sat down on a bench. What I had wanted to do with muscle had been accomplished with kind words. I had just seen Aikido tried in combat, and the essence of it was love. I would have to practice the art with an entirely different spirit. It would be a long time before I could speak about the resolution of conflict.

Go ahead, light your candles and burn your incense and ring your bells and call out to God, but watch out, because God will come, and He will put you on His Anvil and fire up His Forge and beat you and beat you until He turns brass into Pure Gold.

- paraphrased from Saint Keshavadas

Dear Family,

The above quote may sound a little scary, but actually, doesn’t it also provide some comfort? Don’t you and I often feel just beaten all to hell by our constant struggles, by the unwanted situations or annoying people in our lives? We may feel bruised, defeated, exhausted – but then remember, “Is this what it feels like to be beaten and beaten until I am pure gold?” If we can take just the littlest bit of faith that way, maybe we can go on one more day. Faith is the key. But we so often misunderstand it by a mile. We create a so-called faith which is more like a letter to Santa Claus for everything we want, and then when we don’t get it, we “lose our faith.”

Sita and I, along with a few members of our staff, recently spent a day on death row in Raleigh, North Carolina. I gave a couple of talks and we were able to spend some time hanging out with the condemned men. One of them approached me to express his appreciation for our visit, and to share his glad tidings that Jesus has saved him. Now he knows that his next court appearance will go in his favor. He said Jesus will not allow him to be executed. He’ll be sprung from prison; reunited with his family. Jesus won’t let him down. The fellow beamed and said he has “complete faith.”

An elderly woman recently wrote that she always had strong faith in God and was devoutly religious, but then she developed bladder cancer. Though she prayed, followed all the right regimens, and even traveled great distances to be blessed by holy sages, God did not fulfill her expectations. Her faith was shattered.

Does Jesus not love our condemned friend if the court upholds his execution? Is God betraying the prayers of the elderly woman if she dies of cancer?

Better Catch Up On Religious History

If we take even a brief look at the history of the great world religions, it becomes clear that faith and religion have more to do with our response to things going wrong than with our problems being magically set right.

Faith is a profound acceptance of life’s Ultimate Goodness no matter what happens.

It’s a willingness on our part to accept any immediate situation – execution, cancer, loss, betrayal – as part of God’s power and Grace and Love for us, like the following story from the Sikh religion illustrates:

One of the great Sikh warrior/gurus was captured by the invading Mughal army. The enemy emperor was very excited to have finally defeated one of the pillars of the Sikh faith. He summoned his soldiers to bring the prisoner to him.

Bound in chains, the Sikh general was forced to his knees before the emperor. The emperor mocked him and said, “Let’s see your great faith save you now!” The Sikh general calmly replied, “I can write down a magic formula which will shield me from all harm.”

The emperor was furious, and shouted, “Bring this lunatic a paper and pen!”

The Sikh general wrote a few words, folded the paper and kept it in his hand. The emperor said, “Now, cut off his head!” A soldier raised his sharp sword, cut off the Sikh’s head, and his body fell lifeless to the ground.

The paper was taken from his hand and read aloud: “You can have my head, but not my Faith.”

The Holy Ones of every religion came here to show us the way that a person of faith can respond, not to a world which supports or rewards our faith, but to a world which often despises, condemns, rejects, exiles, tortures or even murders us for it.

Jesus didn’t come to get us off of death row or heal our cancer or patch up our worldly problems. He came to inspire the courage in us to live as He did – to love others and dedicate our lives to the common good. Faith in such a way of life is a very radical choice, because it is opposite to nearly everything we have been taught. It is extremely unpopular, too. He got killed for it. So did many of his apostles and disciples through the centuries.

But if we make that choice and stick to it, we will touch something so incomprehensibly perfect and loving and wonderful that it no longer matters so much whether we get our heads chopped off or spend the rest of our days behind bars. Once we touch that Love, the rest is small potatoes. Hard to believe, but true, I promise.

Saint Stephen touched that Love, and it was so fulfilling that even as an angry mob stoned him to death shouting “Blasphemer!!”, all he could cry out was, “Father, please don’t hold this against them.” Imagine such Love!

Mahatma Gandhi touched that Love. As an assassin’s bullet tore his life from him, his immediate response was, “Jai Ram!” (“Hail God!”).

It Doesn’t Always End So Badly

When the Chinese invaded Tibet, they killed countless peaceful monks and destroyed most of the monasteries. One Chinese General was especially known for his barbaric cruelty of disemboweling monks with his sword while they screamed for mercy. At one remote monastery, word came that this particular general and his band of soldiers were on their way. All the monks fled to the hills except one elderly monk who sat calmly in the main hall.

When the general arrived and heard that one monk had not run in fear, he was enraged. He threw open the doors of the great hall, strode over to the small man and screamed, “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM??! WHY, I COULD TAKE MY SWORD AT THIS VERY MOMENT, PLUNGE IT INTO YOUR BELLY AND REMOVE YOUR ORGANS WITHOUT BATTING AN EYE!!”

The elderly monk looked into the General’s eyes and softly replied, “But do you know who I am? Why, I could allow you to take your sword at this very moment, plunge it into my belly and remove my organs, without batting an eye.”

The General meekly lowered his eyes, bowed, backed away, and ordered his troops to leave the monastery at once.

So it’s not that things always turn out badly. Indeed, every religion is full of such stories about the incredible power of pure faith. Faith has indeed healed the sick, raised the dead, parted the seas, moved mountains.

But it’s a serious mistake to think that such outcomes are the point. They are not, and never have been, the point of faith. They are just demonstrations of the Power and Glory we’re dealing with – not guarantees. The elderly monk in the story above was telling the truth: He really would have been just as calm and fearless if the general had indeed disemboweled him. His faith was not tied to a particular result. He knew it was small potatoes.

Miracle stories serve to remind us that if God wanted our problems to be miraculously solved, they would be. So if the court says, “Execute him,” or the doctor says, “Sorry, ma’am, but you’re not responding to treatment,” or Pontius Pilate says “Crucify Him,” then we know that God had the power to change it and didn’t. So we can walk calmly even through the valley of the shadow of death, knowing “Thou art with me.” No bitterness, no doubts, no panic.

When Jesus left His disciples the final time and said, “Take courage and be of good cheer, for I am with you always,” don’t forget that He was speaking to a group of men who would be imprisoned, despised, hunted, executed. Jesus knew that, yet said, “Be of good cheer.”

God’s Power, Our Power

The issue is surely not one of power. Jesus has the power to save our death-row friend from execution, just as He had the power to spare Himself from the indignities and abuses He suffered at Calvary, or to pave an easier way for His apostles. Yet He didn’t use His power to do so. And of course God can cure cancer, and sometimes does. But not usually. Jesus didn’t heal all the lame; He didn’t give sight to all the blind; He didn’t raise all the dead.

A friend of mine was once suffering from kidney stones. One night when he was in unbearable pain, he cried out to Jesus, “Jesus, take this pain, please,” and was startled to hear in response, “But I just gave it to you.”

God creates beans, fire, water, and a pot. God creates the principle that beans will taste better and be digested more easily when they’re cooked. God creates the principle that water boils when heated with fire. Then it’s up to us.

We have the power to abide or not abide by these principles of God’s law, to use or not use them to make a good meal. We can choose to put the pot on our heads, eat raw beans and pour the water onto the ground. We can do all sorts of silly or ignorant things with the best of ingredients and the most wonderful natural laws.

God’s power designs and creates unlimited possibilities; our power is to bring the best of those possibilities to life in the world instead of the worst.

Look around at the world. People say, “Why does God allow children to starve, why does God allow innocent people to be murdered, why does God allow so many wars?” But God has merely created all possibilities, including the ingredients necessary for a miserable world or a wonderful world. We have the free will to use the ingredients in a way which will bring more peace or more suffering. That’s our choice, yours & mine, all the time.

We continue to choose anger over Love, fear over Love, national boundaries over Love, greed over Love, race over Love, self-protection over Love. God has given us Free Will so that we can make such choices. If we don’t like the way the world is going, then we can begin to choose differently right now, today, right here, wherever we are. Waiting for everyone else to change first is a fool’s game. Waiting for others to love us first, before we are willing to love them, is a fool’s game.

The Buddha said that the biggest mistake we can make is to want to be loved. How much we are loved by others is often outside our power. But what is within our power is our choice to love others. On the cross, hated and mocked, Jesus chose to say, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” He loved them. He showed us the Way. He provided an example of following the Buddha’s advice: Focus on your ability to love, not your demand to receive it.

Choose kindness, choose love and unselfishness, choose faith, choose humility, even on death row or in the hospital or out on the streets sleeping under a bridge. Very often our immediate environments or circumstances are not under our control, but our choice of Faith and Love always is. We will not be judged by what others did to us, but by how we responded. As a society, we will not be judged by how much crime there was, but by how we dealt with it. Look at the sad choices we’re making!

Worldly Failure and Spiritual Success

Many of you who receive these newsletters consider your lives to be a miserable failure. Great! You’re halfway there. You are “poor in Spirit.” Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

From the eyes of the Spirit, it is never too late to turn it around. And once we do, all those very things we considered to be our worst failures turn out to have been the very building blocks of our compassion and humility.

I love the story of Simon Peter. He was the boldest, the bravest, the most macho of all Jesus’ disciples. When Jesus asked all the apostles, “How do you see me?,” Peter was the only one who had the guts to say, “I see you as the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” Peter was a no- nonsense kind of guy. But he wasn’t humble. He hadn’t failed enough yet. He thought he was tough.

In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus hinted that there would be some trouble. Peter’s response: “Well, even if the others run away, I will never leave you, Lord; I will never betray you.” Jesus said, “Oh, Peter, you’re just like all the rest.” Peter’s reply: “No way, Lord. I will not betray you. I would give my life for you!” Jesus said, “Peter, before the cock crows tomorrow morning, you will deny three times that you ever even knew me.”

No way. Not Peter. Tough guy. Righteous con. Not a coward. “Jesus is wrong this time. I’ll prove it to him.”

We all know how it turned out, but have you ever thought about why? And why would Jesus then make that very same coward the rock of His church for all time to come? He ran away. He lied. He chickened out. He betrayed Him. He failed miserably to be a decent human being. And that is precisely what made him ready to be the rock of the church. The one quality Peter lacked was humility. He thought he was better than all the rest, better than you and me. How then could he lead us to salvation?

So Peter’s most miserable worldly failure led to his greatest spiritual success. His pride was humbled. That’s what it took.

You and I have failed many times. We have let people down. We have been cowards, cheats, liars. We have hurt ourselves and others. If we allow our failures to open us up instead of shut us down, if we allow them to humble us instead of defeat us, then every lousy thing we have ever done can be turned into the very foundation of our devotion and compassion.

Do you “free-worlders” think you are better than a convict? Do you convicts think you are better than a snitch? Do you snitches think you are better than a baby-raper? Then you haven’t failed enough yet. We are not better than anyone. That’s the message. We have no right to look down on anyone, no matter what they have done.

Every human being contains the highest of the high and the lowest of the low. Peter had to find it out the hard way. I hope you and I don’t. Peter must have been so ashamed and humiliated, he probably never wanted to show his face again. But he did. He came down from his lofty perch. He didn’t quit or run away. He didn’t try to forget all about it. He accepted his flawed nature, opened his heart and moved forward a quieter, gentler man who knew he indeed was “just like all the rest.” He could then become the saint we are all destined to become.

Putting our Failures to Good Use

Without Peter’s failure, there may have been no Christian church. Without my failures, there would certainly be no Human Kindness Foundation, no We’re All Doing Time. Without your failures, you may not have the credibility to help some of the young kids on your cellblock or in your neighborhood to find a more decent way of life than guns and drugs.

So the question is, are you using your failures yet? Are you getting the spiritual point of your failures, and moving into a lifestyle devoted to faith and kindness and helping others? You and I deal with many people every day. Every one of those people hopes we are kind and humble and unselfish. They don’t care where we learned it. They don’t care whether it came easy or hard, or through failures or successes. If the building you are sitting in catches on fire, the people around you don’t care where or how you developed courage; they just hope you’ve got it now so you can help them!

One thing you can begin taking for granted is that every person you meet who seems to have courage, dignity, compassion and humility, has experienced failure and weakness and shame. So don’t be an egomaniac and feel like you’re the only one, or you’re a worse one than the next. Everybody’s got that stuff. Our spiritual victory rests only on what we are willing to do with it.

Faith and Failure

Maybe it seems that this Christmas message started out to be about faith and led into the subject of failure. But the two are not so separate. Our death-row friend and the elderly lady with cancer express a type of faith which is tied to getting a particular result. Peter the Apostle had a faith which seemed to be as much in himself as in Christ. Both kinds of faith can lead us into failure because they are limited. We can then “lose our faith” as the elderly woman did, or we can allow that failure to lead us into a deeper, humbler faith in the Glory and Mercy of God, as did Peter. The choice is in our hands.

Sita and Josh and I, along with all the members of our community, wish you every blessing during this Holy Season. We love you and are grateful to know you. May you take courage and be of good cheer. You are never alone or unloved, and there is a saint within you patiently yearning to be expressed more fully through your life.

I urge you to spend time with this prayer, not just to read it once or twice. Reflect on each line and apply it to yourself; notice any confusion or resentment that it brings up in you. Give yourself time with it. Perhaps work with it every morning for a month. This prayer is so profoundly opposite our contemporary self-esteem craze, it is bound to stir up some bewilderment in us. But don’t dismiss it. We don’t call this spiritual work for nothing. It’s hard!

Deliver me, O Jesus,
From the desire of being loved,
From the desire of being extolled,
From the desire of being honored,
From the desire of being praised,
From the desire of being preferred,
From the desire of being consulted,
From the desire of being approved,
From the desire of being popular,

From the fear of being humiliated,
From the fear of being despised,
From the fear of suffering rebukes,
From the fear of being calumniated,
From the fear of being forgotten,
From the fear of being wronged,
From the fear of being ridiculed,
From the fear of being suspected.

Our modern minds may chafe at the idea of giving up the desire to be loved, or the fear of being humiliated. We say, “But isn’t that just natural?? Doesn’t everyone want to be loved, and want not to be humiliated?” Sure, everyone who’s willing to forever feel small, limited and personal.

But spiritual teachings are not the psychology of the world. They are recipes for a fundamental transformation of who we think we are. If you truly let go of every one of the desires and fears mentioned in her prayer, you would no longer be “you,” you would be the Love of God itself manifesting through this particular body and personality. Mother Teresa knows what she’s praying for. This prayer is a powerful tool for changing your entire state of mind.

I looked at the jail that secluded me from men and it was no longer by its high wall that I was imprisoned; no, it was God who surrounded me. I walked under the branches of the tree in front of my cell but it was not the tree, I knew it was God. It was God whom I saw standing there and holding over me His shade. Or I lay on the coarse blankets that were given me for a bed and felt the arms of God around me, the arms of my Friend and Lover…It was not the magistrate whom I saw, it was God, it was God who was sitting there on the bench. I looked at the Prosecuting Counsel and it was not the Counsel for Prosecution that I saw; it was God.

- Sri Aurobindo, 1908

Dear Family,

Many years ago, before he died, my father-in-law said there was one thing I had told him in the 1960’s which made him look at his life differently. I asked him what it was and he replied, “You told me not to take my life so personally. That was the strangest thing anyone had ever said to me. But it affected me deeply.”

The above description by Sri Aurobindo (imprisoned for revolutionary activities against British rule in India), is the ultimate direct experience of not taking things personally. His description is not daydreaming or poetry or philosophy; it’s as real and clear as seeing your own hand in front of your face. It’s not something merely to believe in; we must understand that one day we will see with those same eyes.

Impersonal Love

Those of us who have had the good fortune to spend time in the presence of a holy man or holy woman, a true spiritual master of some sort, have had at least a glimmer of the experience of impersonal love. On the one hand, the love of such people is immense and intense and incomparable; that’s what draws people to them. Yet on the other hand, it is not in the least bit personal. You know that they love the person next to you just as intensely and totally as they love you, and the next one after that and the next one after that…

The love we feel from a master is not because we are pretty or rich or smart or clever or good; it’s not a love based on anything personal. Rather, it’s an oceanic and impersonal love based on the Big Truth of the Universe: God alone exists. And God is Love. That’s what they see in every direction: It’s all Love, and it’s not personal.

We are caught in our small identity, while they are seeing our Large Identity. We are concerned with getting what we want, avoiding what we fear, protecting our lives at all cost; while they simply love us whether we are dead or alive, happy or unhappy, addicted or not addicted, in prison or in the White House — these are all meaningless trivial details to that sort of Love.

The Holy Ones love because Love Alone Is. And they teach us that such Impersonal, Unconditional Love is the only kind of love which does not lead to endless suffering.

Impersonal Conflict

When Aurobindo, in the above story, saw the jail and the prosecutor and judge as God, he was freed from the personal drama entirely. He was then acting in a play written, produced and directed by God, and starring God as all the characters. That doesn’t mean he passively accepted injustice or evil; quite the contrary. I’m sure he turned in a brilliant performance for his own defense.

But like Jesus, it no longer mattered to Aurobindo whether he personally was found guilty or not guilty. His defense was not to save his own skin, but rather it was to defend right versus wrong, oppression versus democracy. He didn’t care whether he spent his life in prison or in a palace; he was already free, he would be much the same in either environment. So without personal fear of any consequences, he could be the very best champion of his cause. He was fighting for something larger than himself.

Total truth is necessary. You must live by what you say. Men will hate you for telling the truth. They will call you names. They may even kill you, but you must tell the truth. If you live in truth, God will always stand with you.

— Neem Karoli Baba

If you have ever watched a true martial arts master (not the movie guys, but rather the ones who would never glorify violence by doing such a movie) in action, then you must have noticed how impersonal their behavior was. They are calm like scientists, focused like meditation masters, and free from the clutches of anger or fear.

The bulk of training in martial arts is to move beyond personal anger and fear in order to heighten one’s powers of attentiveness and gracefulness. It is never another person whom you are attacking or defending against, but rather you are taking a stand against aggression and hostility. That’s why every genuine martial art stresses peacemaking first and physical conflict as a very last resort. No martial artist is anxious to harm or humiliate another human being if it can possibly be avoided. Violence is never used in service of a personal grudge, but only to defend the weak or uphold order and justice.

A noble Samurai warrior pledged to track down and kill the man who had murdered his master. He spent every waking moment for three years hunting his prey. To avenge his master’s death was the most sacred duty to a Samurai. His life would be a failure if he did not do so. Finally, after tracking him through cities and towns and far-flung ports, he cornered the killer in an alley. It was definitely the right man, there was no doubt about it. The Samurai drew his sword and prepared to fulfill his duty, when suddenly the murderer spat in his face.

The Samurai hesitated for a moment, then sheathed his sword and began to walk away, his head hung down in shame. The man was so shocked that he ran after the Samurai and said, “But wait; I am indeed the man you sought. Why did you not kill me?” The Samurai replied, “Because I got angry when you spat in my face.”

The moment it became personal, the Samurai was no longer upholding honor or justice. The moment it became personal, he was no longer a Samurai, but just an angry man with a sword. He knew, from his own training and the spiritual teachings of the sages and saints, that his action and its consequences changed completely in that one moment.

It’s Not About “US”

What a hard teaching to explain — that life is not really about “us,” it’s not about people and events, as we think it is; it’s actually about Divine Principles being played out on the stage of people and events. As people and events, we are essentially meaningless – “Life’s a bitch and then you die.” But as agents of the Divine, as characters in the never-ending “Play of God,” we are heroes and heroines grappling with good and evil, loss and gain, pleasure and pain, hope and despair, compassion and apathy, generosity and greed, perseverance and laziness, courage and cowardice, love and hatred — the classic, universal forces which naturally oppose each other in each of us and in the universe as a whole.

All we know of historical figures, biblical figures, ancient martyrs and tyrants, is what they stood for. We don’t especially know how tall they were or what their voices sounded like or their favorite color or whether they had bad breath, because our interest in them is not personal. All that’s relevant for us are the principles they lived and died for; the inspiration or lessons they left behind. The story of Daniel in the lions’ den is not meant to teach us about a man named Daniel, but rather about the power of faith. When our parents tell us about the boy who cried wolf, it’s to emphasize the consequences of lying, not to tell us about a tragedy involving some boy and a wolf. The characters are not personally important, just the principles. The same thing applies to the events. If it had been Daniel in the wolves’ den and the boy who cried lion, would it make any difference?

If Only We Could See That About Our Own Lives!

We have a very short life-span, really we do. As Shakespeare put it, “We strut and fret our hour upon the stage, and then are heard no more.” Yet we put all our attention on personal concerns, and on an endless chain of specific events which are no more important in themselves than whether the boy cried wolf or lion or locomotive. Our lives are about sacred principles, just like the lives of the characters in those stories.

We are given moment-by-moment opportunities to choose well or poorly. Choosing well, according to the saints and sages of all religions, is to choose the unselfish, the compassionate, the merciful and generous. Choosing poorly is to choose the selfish, the fearful, the short-term gain, the vested interest. It doesn’t matter what our excuses are or what others have done to us. If you choose well, you represent the best of the sacred principles; if you choose poorly, you represent the worst of them.

All suffering comes from cherishing ourselves.
All happiness comes from cherishing others.

— old Tibetan saying

We are put here to love, respect and help each other. If we love, respect and help each other, we experience the connectedness between us and we touch the deeper meaning of life. If we don’t love, respect and help each other, but instead get lost in fending for ourselves, protecting ourselves, acquiring riches for ourselves, etc., then we miss the point of being born, we miss the meaning and purpose of life by a mile. It’s not personal. It’s just the way we are designed.

Impersonal First

This is the teaching of India:

A God not only impersonal, but personal also —
personal more perfectly, because Impersonal first.

— Swami Kriyananda

A friend once asked, “You and Sita and Josh have such a strong bond. What’s the secret?” My response was, “The secret is that we all love the Dharma (Spiritual truth, the Way) more than we love each other.” Even as it came out of my mouth, I could hear how awful that sounded in our contemporary culture. Wasn’t I supposed to say, “We love each other more than anything else?” But the truth is, first the impersonal, then the personal. Loving God, truth, Dharma, the path, first, is what gives a proper context to the love we have for each other. Without a context, personal love can be the road to hell. “Baby, I love you more than anything. I would do anything for you. I’d lie, cheat, steal or kill for you.”

That sort of love never ends well. It always ends, but not well. It is emotion without intelligence. Emotion can be wonderful when guided and controlled by wisdom, but without it, it’s as dangerous as a sportscar careening all over the highway with no driver.

Our lives must be about something bigger than the emotional self. Jesus said, “Seek ye first the Kingdom of Heaven, and everything else will be provided.” In other words, recognize the biggest, loftiest, eternal principles first, then play your part with gusto.

Be as quick to defend the rights of a stranger as you would a member of your family. It’s the rights you’re defending, not the person. Be generous to the poor, whether you know them or not. It’s mercy you’re expressing, not personal affection. Forgive those who have wronged you, not because they deserve it, but because forgiveness is on the side of the saints, while grudges and vengeance bring the world one step closer to destruction. Take sides constantly with what is highest, noblest and good. Then see what happens.

Impersonal Practice

And this is always the central purpose of spiritual practice: To be clear-minded and courageous enough to uphold what is right and good. It’s often hard to tell the difference between right and wrong. If our minds are fogged by drugs or alcohol or lust or anger, then it’s virtually impossible. We stumble around in confusion, and even when we try to do good, most often we’re like a bull in a china shop, blundering about wrecking things.

To choose well, we must live well. We must respect our minds, bodies, and spirit. Self-discipline is essential. True tolerance and goodwill are essential. These qualities don’t come about by reading a book. We must devote ourselves to practice and study and good works. We must take care of ourselves, not for selfish reasons, but simply because if we’re not in good shape we won’t be very helpful to others either.

It’s not personal. It’s much bigger than that. Each of us is the full repository of good and evil, each of us is the hero of God’s divine drama being enacted on Earth, each of us is creating the future of the world with each decision we make.

Jesus in word and deed was almost violent in his call for death, for denial, for stripping, for abandoning, for letting go, for leaving all, for the journey up by going down. . . . This whole dialogue runs deep in us and all things. One could say, with complete honesty, that life is really no more than a series of heart-breaking good-byes, so full is it of having and letting go, of embracing and parting.

– from My Song is of Mercy by Father Matthew Kelty

Dear Family,

If only we could have what we want and not have to change so much for it! “Lord, I’m a decent person at heart. Oh, sure, I have faults, but I don’t mean anyone any harm. Why can’t you just help my life to work better? Why does everything have to be so hard?”

Is this your usual conversation with God? Do you want the joy of resurrection without the pain of crucifixion first? Why must life require so much constant work? Why must change require so much change? It’s exhausting! Life often seems to be one enormous obstacle standing in our way. Or as Father Kelty put it (above), life is really no more than a series of heart-breaking good-byes, so full is it of having and letting go.

On the one hand, take comfort from all of this. If your life seems to be an unending struggle, a ceaseless procession of hurdles requiring you to jump higher and higher, well, don’t feel so alone. This is life. Life is hard. We all face a lot of difficulties, it’s not just you.

And on the other hand, take even greater comfort, because the sages and saints of all time have assured us there is a great purpose to all of this; it’s not just “Life’s a bitch and then you die.” Not at all. Once we surrender to what life is really about ¾ which is the spiritual journey ¾ then we find there is plenty of advice, instruction, and comfort amid the difficulties. When we take the advice of the great religions, we discover that 90% of our obstacles and pain are caused by us in the first place.

It’s easy to call yourself a Christian or a Jew, a Buddhist or Muslim or Hindu, a Taoist or Wiccan, but it’s another thing entirely to really live according to the teachings of any genuine religion. Christ said that many will come in His name, but we must look for the ones actually doing His Father’s work. When the American sage Joseph Campbell was asked whom he considered to be the greatest living Christian, he replied, “His Holiness the Dalai Lama.” The Dalai Lama is the leader of Tibetan Buddhism, he’s not considered to be a Christian at all. Campbell was using Jesus’s own instructions about who is and who isn’t a Christian: the Dalai Lama’s life is entirely dedicated to compassion, mercy, love, justice, charity, humility, forgiveness ¾ all the qualities which Jesus described as His Father’s work.

Many people go to church on Sunday and then pass by a beggar on their way home without stopping to help in any way. They choose a church which will comfort them in a self-centered lifestyle rather than challenge them to be true Christians. Being a true Christian is a terrifying prospect. Being a true Buddhist, Jew or anything else is a terrifying prospect. All the religions stress that we must die as self-centered little idiots in order to discover new life as selfless, loving, generous, fearless souls.

Die to my own plans and dreams? Die to my countless preferences and aversions? Die to my pride and greed? Yes, yes, and yes. Die.

Father Murray Rogers, the beloved elder on our board of directors, had a powerful experience along these lines many years ago. Father Murray is a Christian who has been involved in the interfaith dialogue for over fifty years. As part of his interfaith experience, he went to Japan to spend time in a Zen Buddhist temple for a few months. The Temple was a serenely beautiful place, extremely neat and orderly, extremely quiet, like most Zen temples.

The abbot, a small, courteous man of few words, showed Murray around for a half-hour or more, whispering “This is where you will eat,” “This is where you will be meditating,” “This is your room,” and so forth. In his room, just before turning to leave, the abbot leaned forward toward Murray and whispered, “There is just one more thing.” And then he thrust his face directly into Murray’s with a wild look and screamed at the top of his lungs, “YOU MUST DIE!!!!!”

The abbot turned and left, with young Murray trembling like a leaf, thinking, “Oh no, I’ve gotten myself into some bizarre cult, this man is crazy, what do I do now,” and so forth. But after a while, as the adrenaline settled and his mind regained a little composure, Murray began to think, “Well, isn’t that actually what my Lord Jesus said as well? ‘You must die to self and be born again of Spirit?’ Perhaps I have just never taken it seriously before. Perhaps this Zen Master is not so crazy after all. Perhaps Zen and Christianity are not so different. Every Christian prayer I have ever uttered is essentially my willingness to die and be reborn in Christ.”

Father Murray did complete his stay in the Zen Temple. Today he is an eighty-one-year-old joyful and humble Christian elder who has recognized that this message of dying into Christ is found in one form or another in all the great religions.

No great sage or prophet has suggested that this “dying into life” is fun. Obviously, Jesus’s own crucifixion and resurrection were no light matter. That’s why being a good Christian or anything else is a terrifying idea. We are called upon to actually give our lives away in duty, service, devotion; to worship God through kindness to His creation. Jesus was not vague about this at all; he made it crystal-clear: “Whatever you have done for the least of my brethren, you have done for me.”

In the free world, “the least of my brethren” include the growing numbers of homeless people, the hookers and ex-cons, the crippled and disfigured. In prison, the “least of my brethren” would apply to sex-offenders, homosexuals, snitches. Anywhere we ever find ourselves, there will be a population we can conveniently exclude from our glance, from our friendship, from our respect; a population we can frown upon and feel superior to.

I assure you, if Jesus appeared in a prison today, he would offer his friendship to the very lowest cons on the totem pole, and most of the supposed Christians would scorn him for it. When will we learn that “everyone is invited to My Father’s table?”

That does not mean everyone accepts the invitation, but that is not our business. It is our business to be respectful to all, open to all, no matter what they look like or what they may have done in the past. “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” And most of us have plenty to be judged for!

It is very easy to fall into hatred, superiority and racism, especially in a place like prison, where we hardly have any power over who does what to whom. But easy or not, it’s the “broad way which leads to destruction.” We must resist the impulse with all our might. Keeping a daily discipline of practices and readings can help a great deal by giving us a bigger view than what we see out on the yard.

True tolerance and respect are not easy in today’s world, especially in prison. The Christmas Story is not an easy story: The perfect child, the lamb of God, the Prince of Peace, is born in a barn among cattle, then has to be hidden in foreign lands for many years, then comes out to get scorned and crucified. What was easy or fair about that? And he didn’t even do anything wrong!

You and I have done lots of wrong things, lots of selfish things which have hurt others, and yet our life is still easier than the life of Jesus. He showed us that Love is superior to power, yet we constantly struggle for power in our lives rather than open ourselves into His Love. He showed us the way which leads to life and the way which leads to death, and we continue to choose death over life. God’s patience with us is amazing.

Christmas season is a good time to give birth once again to the Christ child in ourselves. Born in a manger or a lock-up cell, what’s the difference? What needs to be born is our willingness to die, in a sense. Our willingness to dedicate our lives to the common good, our willingness to spend our time giving rather than taking, comforting rather than abusing.

You and I make dozens of these choices every day, and you know that’s true. May we be blessed to feel this Christmas season seriously enough that we surprise (and even frighten) ourselves with the way we make those choices. Study spiritual truths every day. Look upon all beings with kindness and respect. Pray not for things to go your way, but for yourself to go God’s way, even if that takes you to the cross.

The world is very much in need right now for ordinary men and women like ourselves to take the great teachings seriously. Anger, selfishness and religious divisiveness are choking the planet. It’s time to be the teachings instead of arguing them. “No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for his fellow man.” And what happens when we do? That’s the Great Irony: We discover all the freedom, peace and bliss we had been unsuccessfully trying to find through selfish living. We die as self-centered little insects and we are born into Life as children and servants of the Living God.