"the third side..."

"When the soul
lies down in that grass,
the world is too full
to talk about..."

David Wilcox and Nancy Petit's, "Out Beyond Ideas,"  gives musical form to the poet Rumi's profound invitation that we meet him in the field where healing and understanding take root and bear fruit.

This morning my loved friend Ginny Nilsen shared this passage from an essay "Through My Enemy's Eyes" [A Journal of Positive Futures - Winter 2002.] It touches so beautifully on this "place" that is so critical to spiritual healing:

"Inmate proposes alternative to dualistic thinking:

Prison inmate and former prison-rights activist Troy Chapman, sentenced at the age of 21 to life in prison, discusses what he calls "the third side":

"I had spent most of my life splitting the world up into two sides, then fighting to defend one against the other. It was a game in which there were strategies, a clear objective, a field of play, and an opponent.

The poet Rumi pointed to something beyond this game when he said,

'Out beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing there is a field. I'll meet you there.'

"When I began to see myself in other -— even in my enemies -— I found myself heading for Rumi's field. Here the game is not a game. No one wins unless and until everyone wins. The line between victim and perpetrator no longer runs between 'I' and 'Other.' It now runs right through the center of my soul. I am both, as we are all both.

"What then is left to fight for? Where does an out-of-work activist go? Well, God is hiring and God is on the third side. Not the prisoner's side or the jailer's side. Not the Left or the Right.

"The third side is that little-represented side of healing. It's the side that cares as much about the enemy as the friend, that says love is the only justice, the only victory there is. It does not want anyone destroyed. It does not want to win if someone else must lose. It wants something much larger than winning and losing."

"Through my enemy's eyes"
Yes! A Journal of Positive Futures
Winter 2002”

Isn't this the "side" that Jesus advocated for. The place from which he wrote in the dust and urged self-righteous indignation to sit in the quiet field of self-examination and compassion.

Isn't this the only place from which he could have said [as reported in Luke's gospel]:

"love your enemies and do good,
and lend, hoping for nothing again.

for He is kind unto the unthankful,
and to the evil.

Be ye therefore merciful;
Judge not,
and ye shall not be judged;
Condemn not,
and ye shall not be condemned;
Forgive,
and ye shall be forgiven..."

To gather in this field of the third side, is to listen with the heart -- and to do so, without the filter of self-certainty and pre-judgment. It is to take off one's shoes and walk on holy ground.

My sister, Nancy Mullane, wrote a book titled, "Life After Murder: Five Men in Search of Redemption." In it she shares the journeys of five men who'd been found guilty of murder and sentenced to life in prison with the possibility of parole. She tells their stories with a journalist's clear, unbiased voice.

I remember reading one man's chilling account of the crime that had led to his incarceration. Earlier, I had met this man at Nancy's book launch event -- after he had been released on parole. He was humble, thoughtful, and gracious. Reading his story, I felt myself take off my shoes and step into that field. I was beyond my own long-held preconceived notions of what kind of man would commit murder. I was willing to hear his story through the lens of his heart -- without bias or fear.

I also remember, so clearly, the tears I shed for that young man, who'd barely been an adult, when a robbery went horribly wrong. And the sudden realization that:

"There, but for the grace of God, go I...”

How many times had I lost my temper as a teenager fighting with my sister over a shared skirt or a missing shoe. How often had I lashed out, said something unkind, pinched, or even thrown a hair brush.  In those moments I was "out of control" -- willing to act on hair-trigger emotions. But I'd also had the privilege of access to books, counselors, and an extended family of spiritual resources for diffusing frustration and feelings of helplessness.

In this field beyond the ideas right and wrong-doing -- and who is on which side -- I felt a new sense of what it meant to have "an understanding heart." This understanding wasn't about figuring out the meaning of a spiritual text. It was about standing next to someone and looking at things from their point of view for the purpose of understanding where they were coming from -- without judgment or opinion. It was the feeling of their hand in yours and the pulse of your common humanity.  It was sharing the space of the third side.

I think Troy Chapman says it so well in the above essay:

"The third side is that little-represented side of healing.

It's the side that cares as much about the enemy 
as the friend, that says love is the only justice, 
the only victory there is.

It does not want anyone destroyed. It does not want to win
if someone else must lose. It wants something much larger
than winning and losing...”

It wants healing -- for one, and for all. It is the place where, as Mary Baker Eddy writes in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures:

"Love is impartial and universal
in its adaptation and bestowals.”

I will meet you there.

offered with Love,

Kate

After reading this post, Ginny sent me a clip from Harry and Meghan's Royal Wedding with this performance of The Kingdom Choir singing "Stand By Me,"  let's stand by one another within the space of the third side.

"a child, a snake, and a spoonful of milk...."

"Were you a blazing ball of fire
before you were ever born?
Did you find the cure for polio?
Invent the telephone?

Or were you disobedient at
the age of thirty-three
When some old Roman soldier
had you nailed up to a tree?

Maybe you were black and tired,
on the front seat of a bus,
Or on a protest march in Bombay
lying face down in the dust.

Maybe you were all of this and more,
Borrowed light from those who came before.

And the children who haven't yet been named
are stronger for your spark,
Stronger for your flame…"

- Randall Williams
from "Praying for Land"

This week's Bible study begs a reposting of this snake story:

"Nice snake..."

I absolutely love Randall William's, "Stronger for Your Flame," [the song starts at 1:40.] When I hear it I am reminded of a poem that has been a longtime - but missing-in-action - companion. Until yesterday, that is.  My copy of this 1990 Godfrey John poem serendipitously found its way back into my hands.  I originally discovered it in the Christian Science Monitor one morning almost thirty years ago, and tucked lovingly into my wallet.  It became my touchstone through a very difficult period.

Someone I loved and respected for his devotion to public service was being maligned, vilified, and treated with disdain -- after decades of admiration and trust.  I was heartbroken, but he wasn't.  His spiritual poise seemed untouched - unshakable.  When we spoke on the phone, or met in person I was always stunned by his grace -- his pure, unflappable grace.

Because we were friends and colleagues, the integrity of those who were close to him had also been called into question. It felt awful.   That is, until finally found the courage to phone him.  I was hungry for some direction about how I should proceed in correcting the misunderstandings and impositions on us all.  

He calmly asked me if I knew my own truth.  I responded that yes, I did. I was certain that I had done nothing wrong.  I knew that my motives, at every juncture, had been pure. And that even though - in hindsight - I might have taken different steps today, I was confident that I had been honest, prayerful, and humble in asking for divine guidance at the time.

He then turned me to a story that Mary Baker Eddy relates in the article "Taking Offense" from her book, Miscellaneous Writings 1883 – 1896:

"A courtier told Constantine that a mob had broken the head of
his statue with stones.  The emperor lifted his hands to his head,
saying: "It is very surprising, but I don't feel hurt in the least."

He then said to me, "you are not there."  You are not the "who," that they are throwing stones at.  They are attacking their own concept of the office that you represent to them, and seem to occupy -- healer, director, mother, father, wife, neighbor, church member.  They are throwing stones at the version of that office that they are holding in consciousness.  But only you know if that is you.  If it is, then it is your opportunity to correct it - with and for God. If it is not you, then you can't feel hurt in the least.  You do not live in their consciousness of you. You live in your consciousness of you.  You must ask yourself, "who is the source of my consciousness of myself - and of them?"

"So," I asked him,  "what should I do when I see them, think of them, or are told stories about what they are saying?"  I swear I could hear his silent smile through the phone as he sighed,  "Why, what else is there to do? You just love them. You truly love them."

This set me back on my heels.  Wasn't I supposed to defend him, me - all of us?

Then he reminded me of how Mary Baker Eddy follows up her story about about Constantine and the mob -- she writes:

"We should remember that the world is wide;
that there are a thousand million different human wills,
opinions, ambitions, tastes, and loves; that each person
has a different history, constitution, culture, character,
from all the rest; that human life is the work, the play,
the ceaseless action and reaction upon each other of
these different atoms.

Then, we should go forth into lifewith the smallest
expectations, but with the largest patience; with a
keen relish for and appreciation of everything beautiful,
great, and good, but with a temper so genial that the
friction of the world shall not wear upon our sensibilities;
with an equanimity so settled that no passing breath
nor accidental disturbance shall agitate or ruffle it;
with a charity broad enough to cover the whole world's evil,
and sweet enough to neutralize what is bitter in it,
--determined not to be offended when no wrong is meant,
nor even when it is, unless the offense be against God.

Nothing short of our own errors should offend us."

This story became a staff - and a rod - for me over the ensuing months.  A staff to lean on, and a rod to prod me forward towards a greater understanding, humility, grace.  It was such a help.

However, I am a visual person.  I love having mental pictures that I can connect with as I exercise new spiritual muscles.  The Constantine story was wearing thin, and I needed something fresh, something I could identify with.  I just didn't feel like an emperor ,and the image of a mob scared me.

That was when Godfrey John's poem appeared on my doorstep wrapped in newsprint.

Here it is:

"Nice Snake"

[Note from poet:  This poem is spun from a story
I was told of an actual little girl in South Africa]

Slowly and with no mistake
the giant snake is inching up
the veranda where the five year old
sits, joyfully sloshing her cereal

As if planned and without noise,
the boa constrictor guiltlessly
encircles the chair and the child in his coils.

He lets his eyes come close to hers.
"Nice snake!" she says, lifting
a spoonful of milk up to his mouth.

He feels excused.  He sips the milk.
She lifts the spoon to her own lips.
His innocence coincides
with hers.  Valued now, he waits.

She feeds him again with special care
"One for you and one for me."
Suddenly he dips his mouth
deep into the bowl.  The child
taps his head with her spoon and laughs:
"Naughty, naughty!  Wait your turn!"

The boa constrictor meekly places
his scaled face against her cheek.
Repentance is responsive to love.

Once again she lifts her spoon
full of light.  His lips sip.
They take turns till the bowl is empty.

Unhurriedly, then, he uncoils
and slides beneath the veranda steps.

We must de-mythologize.

Innocence can not be earned:
innocence is immanent;
innocence is untouched
by guilt or hurt or old age.

Innocence
is a child with a snake and a bowl of cereal –
astonishing the day,
celebrating art.

- Godfrey John

I connected with this poem on such a deep, visceral level. I had just been to Africa, I had seen snakes, I knew the way they were feared.  And I had a little girl who was fearless when it came to snakes, and bugs, and growling dogs -- I wanted to be like her.

This poem became the space I lived in.  It became my posture in loving.  I was willing to share my cereal, but I was also clear about identifying my tablemate. But more importantly, it helped me understand my friend's spiritual poise -- his unshakable dignity, grace and compassion.

This poem became my companion.  In fact, it was such a priceless treasure that we gave it as a gift to our friends in our Christmas cards that year.  More than one asked if the little girl in the poem was our South African daughter -- it was not.

Through my many moves since then, I had misplaced my original copy of the poem and would often try to recall the words I had memorized over twenty years earlier.  I would have a strong grip on ten or twelve lines and then miss a word and not be able to find the rhythm again.  I had been thinking about it a lot over the last year or so, and had on a number of occasions searched folders full of scrips and scraps of quotes, the insides of books (a favorite home for poems and quotes in my library) and old journals - but to no avail.

Then, out of the blue a letter arrived from my mom.  She was harvesting some of her old files and came upon some Christmas cards, photos, and clippings from "once upon a time" and decided to send them to me -- and in that packet was a copy of the Christmas card with our gift of the "Nice Snake" poem.

So,  today I am sending out this post-Christmas card - again. Some of you received it over 20 years ago  Others might be reading it for the first time today. Its message, for me, is still a precious gift.

There are times when we all face misunderstanding, criticism, persecution.  Knowing where our innocence lies and Who defines us -- to ourselves -- is critical in finding peace of mind, and growth in grace.  Jesus, Gandhi, Mandela, Eddy are our mentors in this classroom.

My utmost thanks to Godfrey John for writing it.  To my dear friend who taught me to live with dignity while under fire, as a "whole-souled woman." To Randall Williams for reminding me that we are all sparks to one another's flame.  And to each of you,  for your ongoing example of humility, courage, affection, and trust. I feel so blessed. 

offered with Love, 

Kate

"an audience of One..."

"Now I live, and I breathe,
for an audience of One."

I've used Sara Groves' "This Journey is My Own," as the keynote for a post from a couple of summers ago, but I'm not that girl -- and this is not that summer.

Rather than this being a song of encouragement for the "me" who I was then -- someone battling a desire to take the pulse of, please, and gain the approval of others. This post is about the kind of freedom that comes with living for "an audience of One."

And those "others" I was always living my life for, also seemed to include me. I wanted my own approval. I wanted to be the kind of person that I would admire. But I have discovered that -- in many cases -- this wasn't any different than wanting the approval of a family member, a friend, a community, or the world.

When I am trying to live my life in a way that I think will please others, I assume I've figured out what they want. Having an ultimate version of me in mind, I was always trying to move towards it. Whether it was to be the kind of person I've alway imagined myself to be, or the kind of person I think someone else wants from me, I've got got my sights set on something besides, "Thy will be done."

In that version of living, there's a legacy I'd like to leave, a mother I think my children would like me to be, a "someone" or "something" I could become that would please others. It is neither peaceful or inspired.

But then I look at the lives of the men and women I most admire and I realize that there is no way they could have been trying to please anyone -- even themselves -- besides God. Whether it's Jesus' willingness to disappoint his disciples -- by not praying himself free from the crucifixion, Mary Baker Eddy's loving response to her students' betrayal, or Mandela's stand for peace in the face of a nation's right to feel justifiable anger, it is clear to me that their journeys -- in moments of "choice" -- were strictly between them and God. And it was their intent to yield to, and please Him -- and Him alone.

How often are we urged to give -- or take -- advise about what should be done according to our own, or another's, best thinking about an issue, choice, or decision. It's hard, once someone tells us what they think is best, to take a different path. Their best thinking can only be right for them, and how they carry out their own choices, responsibilities, and decisions. I trust this. I can' help -- even when being invited to weigh in on someone's choices -- but remember the Philips Brooks' quote which reads:

""God has not given us vast learning
to solve all the problems,
or unfailing wisdom
to direct all the wanderings
of our brothers’ lives;
but He has given
to every one of us
the power to be spiritual,
and by our spirituality
to lift and enlarge
and enlighten
the lives we touch." 

Mary Baker Eddy noted, in her own hand -- following the appearance of this statement on a document found in her papers -- "The secret to my life is in the above."

I am trying to make it mine as well. For me, "to be spiritual" is to trust that we are all God-created, God-inspired, God-impelled, God-governed, and God-sent into every moment, situation, opportunity. It is the deep imperative, the call to go to God -- only -- for direction, guidance, and approval. It is the privilege of knowing that none of us is so wise, so powerful, or so self-determined as to be able to separate ourselves from Him, take our lives into our own hands, and make mistakes.

Even my own well-honed opinions about what I should, or shouldn't, do -- if not taken freshly to God in prayer -- can be just another outgrown best practice, and not the inspiration of the great IAM who is always present, in the present.

I am trying to be especially conscious of the subtle invitation to suggest how I think someone else might think or act -- or to judge their motives or actions. For me, it seems to fly in the face of the kind of trust that Mary Baker Eddy encourages in the second line of her "Daily Prayer," which reads:

"And may Thy Word
enrich the affections of all mankind,
and govern them." 

When we trust God's Word -- working as a moral agent in the heart of every man, woman, and child -- to enrich the affections for good, for His sense of what is right, for His plan for each of us, and for His path in pursuing it, we are free from the weight of trying to please ourselves or others. Only God -- always God. An audience of One.

shared with affection,

Kate

"How can I be sure..."

"How can I be sure,
in a world that's constantly changing?
How can I be sure,
where I stand with you..."

The first verse of  "How Can I Be Sure," perfectly describes the way I felt in high school, when situational ethics, and circumstantial "morality," seemed to scream hypocrisy from every direction.  

And today I believe...in retrospect...that it was this perceived hypocrisy that gave rise to the judgmental protestor, and rebel, in me.  As I struggled to make sense of questions like:  "If pro-life sentiments are based on the Biblical command, "Thou shalt not kill." then why were we waging a war in Vietnam?" I was also nurturing something unattractive in myself.

  And as long as I continued to look at things from the basis of what I saw on the surface, I was often left confused and opinionated.

But, I am discovering that there is a perspective on integrity, a definition of morality, and a window on ethics that is changeless for me.   A place where I can "be sure."

I say, "for me," because, if I have learned anything in the past 40 years, it is that I can only speak for myself.  No matter how much I think I am on the right side of right, as long as I'm on a "side"...any side...I don't have the whole picture. My view of things is divided...not whole and integrated...without true integrity. A one-sided structure of any kind will eventually fall. 

Today there seems to be a moral relativity movement afoot, and everyone thinks they are not part of it. Cultures, tribes, nations, communities, parties each defining right, and wrong, according to their own interpretation of things...as viewed through the lens of their own particular needs, sensibilities, and desires.   

Unfortunately that often boils down to: "But then, of course, my version of right is what's really right...right? 

And since I am an intelligent, God-loving, prayer-guided global citizen, if it wasn't right, I wouldn't be doing it. Otherwise, it might mean that I wasn't praying correctly, or living in accordance with spiritual reality....right?" This kind of reasoning leaves us with a feeling of having succeeded, or failed, spiritually. As well as to comparisons about how right we are "compared to" someone else's right.    And this is where the question, "how can I be sure..." comes in for me.

And don't get all excited, I don't have any answers here...perhaps only more questions to raise for consideration.  But I can share a few things that have helped to guide my own journey...without editorializing.

Mary Baker Eddy's definition of the word "Moral" has played a huge role in helping me find clarity:

"Moral. humanity, honesty, affection, compassion, hope, faith, meekness, temperance."

This definition has set me free from looking across the aisle, across the table, across the proverbial railroad tracks.  I wish I could say that "I no longer..."  But I can say that I am less inclined (when I am alert), to question my neighbor's motives, measure the wisdom of his actions, and judge him/her accordingly.

I am discovering... for myself...that the only place I can look...is within.   The only person whose motives I have any real information about...are my own. And the only actions I have any control over...are the ones that flow from me.

The moral demand -- which I believe is always from within -- is on me...to be humane, honest, affectionate, compassionate, hopeful, faithful, meek, and temperate.   Other people's motives and actions are a private conversation between them, and their God. 

Eddy, answering the question:

"How can I progress most rapidly in the understanding of Christian Science?

Replies, in part:

"Ask yourself:  Am I living the life that approaches the supreme good?

How do we even begin to restrict our moral cross-questioning to ourselves.  This kind of self-restraint isn't always easy to practice in families, or in  community.  But something my mom used to say to me has been very helpful.  Whenever my sister and I would get into an argument, in high school...and of course, I was always right...my mom would say, "leave her to heaven..." 

This was her way of reminding me...when the disagreement had reached an impasse...that the only way it could be resolved was by trusting that God had the final say.

I think Mary Baker Eddy says it so beautifully in her Daily Prayer:

"Thy kingdom come, let the reign of divine Truth, Life, and Love, be established in me, and rule out of me all sin.  And may Thy word, enrich the affections of all mankind, and govern them."

For me, this daily prayer covers all the bases.  

When I am sure...when I really know, and trust...that God's kingdom is within me, then my first responsibility is to trust that the establishment of His supreme reign in my heart is unassailable. 

And since, in the presence of Truth, Life, and Love, there can be no "sin."  I have no option of believing that I, or anyone else, can be separated from divine rule. 

Once I have truly accepted this Truth...for myself...I need only to trust that this same divine Governor is guiding the motives and actions of everyone else.  And He does this by enriching their affections for good, humility, meekness, compassion...etc.

This is the only way I know of, to be absolutely, positively sure...of anything...

offered with Love,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

"Oh, I've gotta keep my eyes wide open..."

 
"Oh I've got to get a new view
the only way I know to.
Oh I've got to keep my eyes wide open
keep my eyes wide open..."
- Sara Groves

The story was feeling stale in my heart.  I felt like I was on a hamster treadmill, living in my own version of the movie "Groundhog Day." In this film, the main character wakes up in a small town, only to repeat the same day over, and over again, until he starts to take notice, reason differently, and change his responses to the people, circumstances, conversations, and events around him.

In my case, it seemed as if I'd been down the same street, greeting the same people, and getting mud-splattered...hundreds of times in the past.  But, like Bill Murray's character, I'd always responded through the lens of my own historic, socio-economic, religious, and cultural paradigms. 

What I thought was right, was right...right?  Based on that premise, I had every right to defend, react, rebuke what I was seeing or experiencing however I deemed appropriate, because I was right...right? And because another's choices, decisions, take on things, didn't line up with my inspiration, wisdom, experience, he/she was wrong...right?  How was that working for me?  It wasn't...at all.

And because of this false sense of judgment about things, I'd ceased to experience this particular story with "Eyes Wide Open." 

By that I mean, that I had forgotten, as Mary Baker Eddy says in Miscellaneous Writings 1883 - 1896, that:

"We should remember that the world is wide; that there are a thousand million different human wills, opinions, ambitions, tastes, and loves; that each person has a different history, constitution, culture, character, from all the rest; that human life is the work, the play, the ceaseless action and reaction upon each other of these different atoms. Then, we should go forth into life with the smallest expectations, but with the largest patience; with a keen relish for and appreciation of everything beautiful, great, and good, but with a temper so genial that the friction of the world shall not wear upon our sensibilities; with an equanimity so settled that no passing breath nor accidental disturbance shall agitate or ruffle it; with a charity broad enough to cover the whole world's evil, and sweet enough to neutralize what is bitter in it, - determined not to be offended when no wrong is meant, nor even when it is, unless the offense be against God."

But unfortunately, I had lost sight of this wisdom.  I was seeing things "my way" only.  I had forgotten, that my "take" on something, was only the version of reality that I had decided...based on my own human history, culture, exposure to a narrow field of inspirational texts...was unconditionally right or wrong.  And this stale version of my story was getting old. It had falsely informed, and colored, the tack I chose to take in navigating the situation, and it wasn't going well...at all, Something had to change.  

Thank goodness for bracing wake up calls that open our eyes. Through a series of experiences, I had begun to learn that if my "certainties" are based on human reasoning, and my human reasoning is based in a limited sense of God...that He is anything less than All-in-all, then I am limiting the depth and breadth of my own expanding understanding of Truth.   I am saying that my current thinking, is the only definitive version of being.  And as self-indulgent and self-satisfying as this might be at the time, it only limits my openness to divine mystery and awakening. 

Eddy further states, elsewhere in The First Church of Christ, Scientist and Miscellany that:

"Christian Scientists are practically non-resistants..."

I believe...and I repeat here, I believe...that by this, she doesn't mean that we are "almost" non-resistant, but that we practice -- apply in practical, consistent, scientific ways -- non-resistence. 

What is there to resist, when God is All-in-all.  What is there to battle, outside of our own false beliefs about anything.  These false beliefs and perceptions...the ones we carry around, and project on our view of ourselves, our neighbors, and the world, are always, and only ever, an offense against our sense of Deity, our understanding of the nature and character of God.  Therefore, if I truly trust that God's wisdom is All, in all, I know that I can't possibly have the only version of good, the only accurate, enlightened take on spiritual being.   Eddy counsels:

"Love [God] is impartial and universal
in its adaptation and bestowals." 

For me, this means that there is, no language, culture, teaching, socio-economic community, where His voice is not heard...or understood...and practiced.  The only thing that ever needs changing...or adjusting...is my view of things.  In other words, I must keep my eyes wide open to the presence and power of a God that is always there -- right in front of me, is always good....and is always in all.   The ego-self would have me believe that I am an isolated, solitary being with a uniquely enlightened point of view.  Silly ego.

I am more than willing to destroy this ridiculous ego-self...to dismantle its argument...in pursuit of this glorious Truth of Love's all-inclusive spiritual being.  And, oh what a glorious truth it is...

Eddy assures us that:

"Nothing short of our own errors should offend us...it is a question in my mind, whether there is enough of a flatterer, a fool, or a liar, to offend a whole-souled woman. "

I can't think of a better thing to be, than a whole-souled woman.

with Love,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

"...Oh, hold them up, hold them..."

"…Oh, hold them up, hold them up
Never to let them fall
Prey to the dust and the rust and the ruin
That names us and claims us and shames us all…"
- James Taylor "Never Die Young"

I've asked people for many years what it is they love about their faith communities...faith communites from many different religious traditions.  I hear stories of hymns that have brought comfort, Sunday School classes where questions are listened to....and answered, families that pray together, church members who have shown kindness, healings experienced, and congregations that serve the poor. But I have also learned that when you ask someone about the things they love, they will often place it in the context of the things that they don't love. And the thing I hear most often that people, especially teens, don't "love" about their faith communities is "the way people treat one another".  Gossiping in the back of the fellowship hall,  people talking behind one another's back,  arguing about the color of the carpet in the entryway, discussing a fellow member's failures or indiscretions at the dinner table, a son-in-law's lack of ambition...these are the things that sadden and disillusion them.

So often we feel justified in looking at another's behavior, or choices, and responding in a way that "sends a message"....but once again I am getting ahead of myself...

In her primary work, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy wrote, "It is not the purpose of Christian Science to "educate the idea of God, or treat it for disease, "…and elsewhere avers, "Healing physical sickness is the smallest part of Christian Science. It is only the bugle-call to thought and action, in the higher range of infinite goodness. The emphatic purpose of Christian Science is the healing of sin…"   She doesn't say the correction or punishment of a sinner, but the healing of sin. 

Early in my study and practice of the science of Christianity, I searched for an  understanding of the word "sin" I could really get my arms around…if, in fact,  this was to be the most emphatic part of my work.  The big fat dictionary at the University library gave me a wonderful array of ways to look at this word.  But it was the etymological root of this word that I liked the most.  The word "sin" has at it's root the same base as the word "sunder" or "to separate".   In fact even my old worn Webster's includes this definition:  "a vitiated state of human nature in which the self is estranged from God".  

Ah, this resonated with me.  Sin wasn't a list of aberrant behaviors based on a variety of cultural norms and values.  Sin wasn't just about a human "missing of the mark" as if God were asleep and we had the free will to take aim in the wrong direction.  Sin was merely the belief that there could be any separation from an omnipotent and omnipresent Creator who never leaves His post in maintaining the integrity of His creation.   And because this could never be true and could only exist in the realm of belief, it didn't matter who was believing it to be true…the one reacting to the belief by "sinning" or the one who felt he/she was witnessing the sinning.  

I began to see that it was only a sense, a perception, an awareness of sin which needed to be given up or rebuked.    But this wasn't what I was observing, or even  experiencing, in faith communities.   In fact I was seeing quite the opposite approach to "sin".    Instead of dis-embodying sinful behavior from a person, the response seemed to be to hammer it home to the "sinners" that those behaviors or choices were clearly "theirs"…attached to them, springing from them, forever linked to their human history.  As faith communities we did everything we could to separate ourselves from this deformed perpetrator under the mantle of giving them space to "work it out" or come to their senses.  But what it felt like to the person being shunned or rejected was a further confirmation of the absence of good in their experience, in themselves…that they were indeed a sinner.

When someone does something we deem sinful we tend to want to send a message of disapproval.  We want them to remember that there is a God…and that He is not happy with them.   We think we are rebuking sin by withdrawing affection, kindness, compassion…by rejecting, or dismissing the person.  But if sin is only the belief that there is, or can be any separation from God, or good.  When we withdraw affection, love, goodness, we are only enflaming the belief in God's absence.  What rebukes sin is not the absence of love, but the presence of it in our lives.  As Christians, we are not in the business of rebuking sinners, but destroying the belief, ours or anyone else's,  in sin.  To see sin…to see someone as separated from God, is just as much a headlong capitulation into the belief in sin, as is behaving in a way that is deemed sinful.  To react to that belief  in the absense of God…by being dismissive, withdrawing, reproaching another… is to perpetuate that very belief and act contrary to the very thing we hope to identify ourselves with…our Christianity…our kindness, compassion, grace.

These "sinful" behaviors we tend to focus on and be impressed by, are nothing more than a reaction.  A reaction to the feeling that God is absent from our experience.  Stealing is just a reaction to the belief that God is absent as a caring Father who provides for our every need.  Lying is no more than a reaction to the belief that God is not present in our lives bestowing an experience that we are content with, proud of, or at peace about.  Cheating is merely a reaction to the false belief that God is not present as Mind, an infinite flow of intelligence and wisdom.  Judging others is just a reaction to the belief that God is not present as Principle upholding the integrity of His creation.

Promoting this false belief about God's absence in someone's life by withdrawing any good…kindness, forgiveness, charity, understanding…love, only further confirms in our own lives the belief in sin - God's absence. Punishing the "sinner" by retracting our humanity and benevolence does nothing to rebuke the basic false premise that our omnipresent God could ever possibly be absent, and therefore in this abyss of God's being there could crop up an aberration called a sinner.  The real rebuke to sin comes in pouring in more of our certainty in God's all-present love.

When Mrs. Eddy heard that President's Garfield's assassin was being held in prison she didn't reject or dismiss him.  She didn't withdraw her company, or kindness, from him.  She took her dear love into his prison cell.  She says that her "few words touched him…"  It was this dear affection that rebuked sin…not the sinner…and moral idiocy.   It is this Love that destroys hate, it is this Life that consumes death, and it is this kindness that refuses to see a sinner and therein deprives sin of an identity or life…in ourselves…or others.

But, we may ask, doesn't loving them send the message that what they have done or chosen is "okay"?  Jesus didn't send the message to the woman who washed his feet that her behavior was "okay" by loving, forgiving and exalting her actions…at that moment…above those of his esteemed host.  He didn't send the message to Zaccheus that his behavior had been "okay" even though he went and had dinner with him…as those around him worried it would.  What he did in each case was give them a reason to want to make better choices, to live more noble lives.  To continue to see themselves as he saw them…one with God, His child, their dignity, identity, and integrity forever held intact by an ever-conscious, ever-present Father who is Love and never leaves us on our own, alone and struggling, subject to errors or mistakes.   It is this false concept of our God as negligent that is the real offense.   But to see one another as a brother or sister in Christ with one omnipotent loving Father-Mother honors the entire family of God…held in the gospel of Love.

At a time when I had made choices that were being questioned by others, I experienced this kind of withdrawing of affection and "society".  I often found myself standing in a crowd within a bubble of distance and reproach.  If I tried to make contact eyes were averted and when they weren't, looks of disapproval and disdain were shot glaringly in my direction.  I had never felt more lonely or misunderstood in my life. 

One afternoon I was standing on the playground of our young daughters' school again wrapped in this bubble of reproach, when one parent, someone who I had once thought of as almost too attentive…in those years prior to my fall from grace when I enjoyed general kindness and approval…approached me. Her greeting was extended with the same generous love as always, but in the absence of any other friendship or affection I suddenly saw the rarity of her gift.  Her simple greeting and interest in my welfare made my knees buckle with gratitude.  She had penetrated that bubble of disdain and suddenly I was, even in my own eyes (because even though I knew my heart, I had begun to accept that if so many people could believe this about me, maybe it must be true) "No longer regarded as a miserable sinner, but as the blest child of God." (Eddy). 

This friend's consistent, genuine kindness thrown around me like a blanket of light, separated me (and her) from the darkness of sin - believing that anyone could be separated from God - and began the healing in my heart…and my life.  She didn't separate me from good by seeing me as a sinner, but separated both of us from sin by including me in the light of her love…her genuine Christianity.

Mary Baker Eddy goes on to describe this Christ-like viewpoint when she writes, "Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man, who appeared to him where sinning mortal man appears to mortals. In this perfect man the Saviour saw God's own likeness, and this correct view of man healed the sick. Thus Jesus taught that the kingdom of God is intact, universal, and that man is pure and holy."  She doesn't say that the kingdom of God will be restored, or that man will be holy, but that it is and he is…right now.  No process of healing, or restoration,  or recovery.    No sin.  No need for rejection, disdain, dismissal, or shunning.   No need to send a message of disapproval or disappointment.  It is the belief in sin that is banished…not a sinner.

There are no sinners...but each, and all, the blest children of God..let us then "hold them up, hold them up...never to let them fall..".
with Love,
Kate

"...they're kinder..."

"Its unfortunate
and I really wish I wouldn't have to say this,
but I really like human beings who have suffered.
They're kinder."
- Emma Thompson

This will be a rare (but I am sure welcome) "brief" post today...

This weekend was all about kindness.  Anyone who reads this site may be saying to themselves "duh, isn't that all you ever write about anymore?"  Well, maybe…but this is one of the subjects I am most moved by these days and the one that has made the greatest impact on my heart.  Simple kindness.

Saturday we were blessed by a walk in the bitter cold and a modest, but wonderful, meal at our favorite neighborhood Thai restaurant with a couple I really didn't know very well until recently.  What brought about our "date" was quite simply...kindness.  Theirs.

Like so many people in the world today, I too have faced  moments when judgment, criticism, harsh opinions, and cold disdain swirled around me like the debris that followed poor little "Pig Pen" everywhere he went, in one of the late Charles M. Schultz "Peanuts" cartoons.  There are times when any one of us might have made decisions or taken steps in our lives that may have left us asking, "What was I thinking" or left others wondering about our motives, sanity, or wisdom. 

However, once those decisions are made or the steps have been taken, we all have choices on how we will move forward with grace.  We can face misunderstandings head on with corrective information,  change our course, “get out of Dodge”, or let God use these moments in our lives as opportunities for us to learn some vital spiritual lessons that can only be discovered in the context of discomfort.  Recently I had the opportunity to choose the fourth option.  As it’s turned out, this path was likely the most demanding of the choices at hand.  Yet to have failed to learn what I have learned through this experience--even just this one lesson related to kindness--would be tragic to me.  And even now I wouldn’t (even if I could) turn back the clock and retrace my steps, possibly taking a less challenging course,  if it meant relinquishing this lesson.

A song from the Christian Science Hymnal says it with such gentle authority:
                                             

"Jesus knew the law of kindness,
Healing mind and heart of blindness..."          
- Nikolaj F. S. Grundtvig

For me there is profound wisdom in this statement.  In my case, what I had most needed as a Christian Science healer at this juncture in my life was not more respect, admiration and affirmation of my worth or success.  What I really needed was to be healed of any blindness to the power of kindness.   To be thoroughly healed of the ease with which I could dismiss the capacity kindness has for lifting and healing the broken hearted and the bruised.  To not shrug off the power of even one small,  simple act of human kindness.   To recognize what it can do to elevate sentiments of unworthiness to the comprehension of one’s true status as a child of God, an heir of Christ, a full citizen of heaven on earth, a dweller in the secret place of the most high, a rich and fertile kingdom, the land of milk and honey...that lies waiting for cultivation within each of us. To discover that Christianity is a verb and that it looks, feels, and walks a lot like...you've got it...kindness...day in and day out.

There was no better way for me to learn these lessons than to have the warm blanket of profuse and generous kindness pulled out from under me in an instant...so that I found myself shivering in the bitter cold air of judgment, disinterest and disdain.  Then, and only then, did I understand what it really meant to have one gentle, humble heart offer a sunny smile following a score of sideward glances of scorn or just averted eyes.  To know the sweet warmth of a kind inquiry about our welfare extended with authentic care and sincere interest, after an evening when others had avoided the need to even say "hello".  

Well, as the weeks and months went by,  the lessons started to sink in with such deep suffusion that I found myself moved by the smallest things.  I was no longer so impressed by well-articulated and inspired speeches.  I was suddenly moved to tears by a shy hello proffered by someone who a year earlier may have barely felt like they were in my periphery rather than the focus of this piece.  Broad compliments that had once made me feel loved and admired were now too rich... like an opulent feast that I could not take in for its richness.  I found that I was more than satisfied with a genuine "thank you" as simple as a piece of toast and a cup of tea. 

And these simple moments of breaking bread were the kind of "meals" I wanted to now be known for serving with grace myself.  I no longer aspire to be the Martha Stewart of inspired living and speaking...but to become more like:

"the humble servant of the restful Mind"*
who
"steals in silently in on an errand of mercy."*

Our dinner companions from this weekend are so dear to us…dearer than they may ever know.  They join a small but precious new family of friends whose place at our table is cherished.  Many of you have a seat reserved...the toast is warm, the marmalade sweet, and the tea kettle is on.

Come dine...

"The poor suffering heart needs its rightful nutriment,
such as peace, patience in tribulation,
and a priceless sense
of the dear Father's loving-kindness."*

[* from the published writings of Mary Baker Eddy]

K

"What you think of me...."

I was taught to treat people with love and respect, and I thought that would result in others responding in kind.  But I have discovered that sometimes they don’t.  This sometimes feels unfair.  Then comes the temptation to try to “fix” the way they think of me.  I want to correct any misconceptions, bad vibes, or feelings of being wronged.

The other day I walked into the local coffeehouse for a hot chocolate and was delighted to see a young man that I've known since he was a boy. I greeted him with "oh my gosh it is so good to see you".  Yet my greeting was met with unmistakable disdain and dismissal.   I was so baffled that I forgot to order my drink.  I mentally went over every possible thing that I could have said or done to deserve that kind of treatment. Soon I realized that I was viewing him with the same lack of charity that I felt I had received from him earlier.

This realization was a critical moment for me.   I knew I had to find a different starting point when facing unkindness.  There’s a book I turn to along with the Bible that gives me practical guidance in my life.  Its author, and founder of this newspaper, Mary Baker Eddy, writes in her text Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, "The starting point of divine Science is that God, Spirit is All-in-all, and that there is no other might or Mind." - 275:6

What I had to understand was that my peace doesn't come from assurances that everyone likes me or approves of my decisions.  My peace must come from somewhere much deeper. It has to come from somewhere God-based and unmoveable, grounded and unshakeable.

So I adjusted my perspective on trying to figure out the possible reasons that others might treat me in ways that I felt were undeserved.  I realized that I didn't need to wonder “why” or "what if", because I knew "what is!" And what is, is that God, good is omnipresent, omnipotent, supreme good, operating unspent and without fail in each of us. I don't always have to know what another is thinking, has thought, or may have been inclined to think about me.  What I do always need to know is that God is the only Mind taking thought for either of us.   That’s my secure starting point.  If more needs to be known about another’s view of me,  then God will care for that in His own way, in His own time.  

We all exist within the embrace of divine Love.   Such an embrace shifts our focus away from winning each other's hearts or affections.  Instead we aim to win the war against those suggestions that would have us doubt one another's motives, question each other's responses, assume judgment or disdain, or think that there could ever be anyone outside of that circle needing to be drawn in. We are all "under the control of the one Mind, even God", as Eddy says. It's time to learn to let go of those uncomfortable, questionable moments at the start...with the right starting point.

Noted civil rights activist and speaker Melba Beals is attributed as having once said, during a youth conference: "What you think of me is none of my business. How I think of you is all that counts." I'm with Melba on this one. All that really counts in my practice of Christianity is how I am thinking about, and treating, others.

I think I'm ready for that hot chocolate now, please....






Kate