Where's Chip?

Driving by the local shelter, I see a long line of men, women and children waiting for breakfast. How can there be so much need? With my belly full, I wonder why so many struggle? It shouldn’t be this way. Something should be done.

Where’s God?

Sitting in a wheelchair, never to leave, he watches as friends and family walk to raise money for research. He will never benefit from such research, and yet they continue to walk. I watch from afar and shake my head. It shouldn’t be this way. Something should be done.

Where’s God?

The fundraiser was brilliantly orchestrated. The room was filled, the presentation inspirational, and all agreed this school for needy children was good and commendable. Cautious checks were written, but no one signed up to serve as a tutor, including me. It shouldn’t be this way. Something should be done.

Where’s God?

Maybe I have it wrong. Maybe I’m asking the wrong question. It shouldn’t be “Where’s God?” It should be “Where’s Chip?” 

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!"