The Gospel According to Aladdin.

Have you ever looked at something so long you no longer see it? Then, someone or something awakens you and you see whatever it is as if for the first time?

That happened to me recently through the work of Mark Nepo, the very popular spiritual writer and poet. He described the story of Aladdin, the age-old tale most of us have heard many times, then suggested a new way of looking at the story. His suggestion is one I want to share with you.

As you know, Aladdin is a story of a man in search of a special lantern. His search leads him to a big, dark cave where he eventually finds what he is looking for. Once found, he rubs the lamp and releases the genie within.

Yes, the story is well known, but Nepo suggests we look at the story from a new perspective. What if, he asks, the lantern is not some object but ourselves? It took me a moment to adjust to his perspective, but now I see the powerful insight it provides.

Like Nepo, I believe we are all in search for something. Yes, we may think it’s something like a perfect job, spouse, or house, but I think our search is deeper than that. I believe we are all in search for our true selves. The search is not easy, which is why we settle for things like jobs, people, or things, instead of doing the work to find what we are really looking for.

While I suppose each of us can find our true self in the clear light of day, more often I believe we need to go into a place of darkness, a place hidden like a cave, to find who we are looking for. Like a lantern tucked away, we put our true self out of reach of the world and all its dangers to protect it. Making the journey into such a space takes effort and courage, but can lead to the discovery of what we truly desire.

The story does not end there, however. Like Aladdin, the lantern has something very special inside. In the story, it is a genie, but in our lives it is a divine spirit. To release it, the lantern must be rubbed. Rubbing, I guess, can be gentle and loving, as if to draw the spirit out, but more often the rubbing comes through pain and hardship. The loss of a loved one, a job, one’s health or reputation can all be forms of rubbing the lamp, and I would not wish any such things on anyone, and yet I think of those I have known who have endured such hardships and remember the divine spirit that so often emanates from them. They shine with a spirit not found in this world and offer that spirit to the world around them.

It did not come to them easily. They had to search, be willing to go into the dark places, and be willing to expose themselves to life’s sometime brutal hands. In the end, however, something deep within their true selves awakened and their lives, as well as ours, are better for it.

Easter 2015: Changing our pose.

If you were asked to get up and stand in the position or pose of you faith, what would it look like?

• Would you have your hands up shielding your face from whatever may come your way because your faith is defensive?
• Would you stand with one foot extended, as if dipping your toe in the water, because your faith is timid?
• Would both hands be defiantly placed on either hip or across your chest illustrating your “I’m in charge” faith.
• Or are your arms spread out and head tilted back taking in the new day that’s been given, trusting the world and the one who created it, absolutely?

Such an exercise is helpful, because we so often think we live our lives of faith one way when, in fact, we live it another. I am convinced we are to strike the open pose, and yet we so often live defensively, timidly, or defiantly. I suppose we do so because we do not have complete trust. We say we believe in someone greater than ourselves, but live as if our lives depend on us.

What would it look and feel like if we changed our pose? What would we do with our lives if we saw them from the view of abundance rather than scarcity? What if we awakened and said not "What's is going to happen to me today," but instead "What does God have in store for me today?" What if we really lived as if there’s a God? What if we lived believing God loves us and wants us to have an amazing life?

I know, many of us claim to believe just that, but then why don’t we live that way? Why don’t we spread our arms wide to life, others, and God? Why do we play it safe and accept an average life?

Maybe it’s because we feel safer not wanting too much. Maybe we feel we don’t deserve any better? Whatever the reason, Easter, of all days, is a day in which we need to ponder life without limits, life beyond our wildest dreams, life of empty tombs.

Some of us will continue to sit on the hillside and accept things as they are, looking at the stone and mourning what once was and cry "Oh well." Others, however, will take the energy of the morning and roll away the stone. It is they who will find an tomb’s empty, they who will know the miracle of life, they who will shout "He is risen!"

Saturday: Washing Feet and Washing Hands

Saturday provides a silence between the drama of Good Friday and the miracle of Easter. No doubt, the disciples spent the day trying to make sense of all that had happened. We, too, have an opportunity to take a moment and reflect. Fortunately, I am blessed to have a men’s group that meets of Fridays, and we explored Holy week in eye-opening, or should I say heart-opening ways.

Specifically, we spoke of the washing of feet. The story of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet is familiar to us all, but one of our members said words that caught us all off guard: “Jesus washed Judas’ feet too.”

I had never thought about that. What an amazing moment it must have been for Judas, knowing what he knew. What a powerful moment it must have been for Jesus, knowing what he knew. And yet the washing still happened. It says God’s grace and love are extended to us all. No exceptions. The Peters as well as the Judas’s, and all of us in between.

Could you imagine if we lived our lives in the same way? What would it look like if we washed everyone’s feet? No exceptions. Harder still, could you imagine a church that washed everyone’s feet? Not just their members, but every person regardless of who they are and what they have done.

Instead, we are better at washing our hands, like Pilate. Better to keep things neat and tidy, better not to create a stir. Let’s just surround ourselves with the ones who are easy to love and let God take care of the rest.

I recently read of a Bishop who was involved in a tragic accident in which she killed a pedestrian while driving drunk. It is an awful thing, one that will bring with it many consequences, but it begs the question: what will the Church do? Will it wash her feet or wash its hands? My experience is that the Church, like you and I, are much better at washing our hands than washing feet. Maybe reflecting on that fact this Saturday will help us see what Jesus chose to do and cause us to do the same.