On some Saturdays, a group of Quakers and Sufi students meet at my house to study the 99 Names of Allah. These are the qualities or attributes of God that are listed within the Koran, and they have long traditions of study associated with them.
Yesterday we studied Al Halim, a subtle quality of perserverance, forbearance in the sense that God "is forebearing in the punishment of the guilty." (The Name and the Named, Shaykh Tosun Bayrak al-Jerrahi al-Halveti)
We talked about this kind of patience and gentle waiting, and the nature of evil (is evil confined to human-generated action or is there an extra-human agent of evil?). We talked about the distinction between forebearing from witness verses the idea of witness by standing up to stop evil. When does one intervene in affairs to promote justice and protect life, and when does one forebear?
My opinion was that this distinction is a matter of discerning the heart of the person in question, and that it is pretty clear when a "bad heart" is performing actions that are evil as opposed to a situation in which people are acting badly through simple ignorance, fear, laziness, or greed. One just knows when to stand up to evil and when not to.
Even I do not fully understand this, a couple of days later, but I am still convinced that it is the case.
At some point during these meetings, we chant/meditate on the quality under study. This week, during the chant, I seemed to be moved into a separate universe. I saw a vision of a celebration taking place in India somewhere, in a village square. People were holding up a large model of a city or something which had many golden spires which sparkled in the sunlight. People were singing and dancing happily. They were celebrating because "the world has been gentled."
The vision left quickly, but the sentiment remained. In the future, the world will be gentled, and people will live to experience this.
Inshallah. God willing.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Pottering Around
I have been reading the new Harry Potter. Well, in fact, I have not yet gotten to the new book, having had to go back to reread Books 5 and 6 in order to remember, er, the story. As my brother points out, "Pretty soon, you'll only need 4 or 5 books to keep you happily reading for years!"
It's scary that rereading this book, I have no memory of what happens next nor who is going to appear. My first thought is that J. K. Rowling has conjured an Improvization Spell on the books, so that each reading produces a new story...quite clever of her.
But, sadly for me, I fear it can't be so. Instead, I understand that my psyche has arranged a Mental Erasing Blodget to visit me randomly, creating the only thing more embarrassing than admitting that I like the Harry Potter books: admitting that I had had to read them more than once.
It's scary that rereading this book, I have no memory of what happens next nor who is going to appear. My first thought is that J. K. Rowling has conjured an Improvization Spell on the books, so that each reading produces a new story...quite clever of her.
But, sadly for me, I fear it can't be so. Instead, I understand that my psyche has arranged a Mental Erasing Blodget to visit me randomly, creating the only thing more embarrassing than admitting that I like the Harry Potter books: admitting that I had had to read them more than once.
Free Won't
On Friday I had lunch with a lovely, wonderful person. Our conversation was lively and engaging. We were speaking about our personal spiritual walking. I related how my mind says, "Yes, yes, I want to work for world peace, I want to be a holy person, I will strive to be peaceful and compassionate." Then I get down to the place where the implications of these grand sentiments begin to get clear and sharp: this means giving up some things, like maybe slobbing out on the couch every night after work, watching trashy tv and munching things.
I explained that this seems to me to be the place of "free will." This is the place we need to look. Not in the grand, glorious pronouncements of our intention, but in the small, sorry little places of personal capitulation, funny little ways we circumvent internal pockets of emotional quicksand.
My friend calls it "free won't." I agree. It's what we're not willing to do that defines the shape of our spiritual environment. It's the 'little things' we're refusing to do...
And yet, it is important not to do violence, to ourselves as well as to others and the environment. So, the work seems to be about those comforting little attachments we use for emotional stability, not so much about prohibiting them as about exploring them, coaxing out their secrets, finding how to persuade them either to join us or at least not to continue to oppose us.
A lot of "not's" in that story. Refraining from doing harm. We'seem to have many capabilities to do harm. Possibly the worst of them are almost trivial in scope, rather than the drama-filled scenarios of imagination and physical violence.
I explained that this seems to me to be the place of "free will." This is the place we need to look. Not in the grand, glorious pronouncements of our intention, but in the small, sorry little places of personal capitulation, funny little ways we circumvent internal pockets of emotional quicksand.
My friend calls it "free won't." I agree. It's what we're not willing to do that defines the shape of our spiritual environment. It's the 'little things' we're refusing to do...
And yet, it is important not to do violence, to ourselves as well as to others and the environment. So, the work seems to be about those comforting little attachments we use for emotional stability, not so much about prohibiting them as about exploring them, coaxing out their secrets, finding how to persuade them either to join us or at least not to continue to oppose us.
A lot of "not's" in that story. Refraining from doing harm. We'seem to have many capabilities to do harm. Possibly the worst of them are almost trivial in scope, rather than the drama-filled scenarios of imagination and physical violence.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Rabia's Rooftop
I spent the afternoon working at my desk. Quite a bit was actually accomplished, which is kind of amazing, as the entire time I felt a distracted longing. I found myself wandering down the hallway toward the vending machines, then sitting staring at the wall, then editing my work files, as if my afternoon were a set of still life pictures.
A completely wordless longing, it felt a bit like being hopelessly, helplessly in love, both happy and sad, not uncomfortable, yet not at peace, in a normal sense of that word. I was distracted, yet could continue to work in a normal way.
At some point, I remembered the stories of Rabia, the Sufi mystic, and wondered if this was maybe a little like the way she felt: happy to sit on the roof of her house wailing for God.
My mind and body were competently dealing with work and the material universe, while I, whatever that is, seemed to be in a universe of grief and longing. And I was content with all of it.
A completely wordless longing, it felt a bit like being hopelessly, helplessly in love, both happy and sad, not uncomfortable, yet not at peace, in a normal sense of that word. I was distracted, yet could continue to work in a normal way.
At some point, I remembered the stories of Rabia, the Sufi mystic, and wondered if this was maybe a little like the way she felt: happy to sit on the roof of her house wailing for God.
My mind and body were competently dealing with work and the material universe, while I, whatever that is, seemed to be in a universe of grief and longing. And I was content with all of it.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Stewardship and Renewal
Today our Meeting held a Threshing Session to labor over the question of stewardship. It seems that we have proliferated committees of particular concern to the extent that our Stewardship Committee was seeking to understand the boundaries of their 'authority' and their purpose.
The Simplicity Testamony speaks to this amazing facility we humans have to complexify ourselves and our lives without even thinking about it. Because we don't think about it. Is this inherently narrow vision, or is it an inherent tendency to avoid thinking? In any event, it seems to be programmed into us, requiring counter measures like Quakerism.
So to the queries. The Committee asked us to consider 3 questions:(1) of what are we stewards? (2) for whom are we stewards? (3) for what purpose are we stewards?
At the announcement that we were to have this Threshing Session, I was a bit mystified...like, what's to consider? We have to take care of stuff, so what's the problem? At first the questions seemed to be, well, simplistic, and I had little hope that the session would be interesting. Maybe we would use our time better if we talked about the complicated structure we have built within the Meeting and how to Simplify, Simplify.
How wrong I can be.
The first query (of what) resulted in a range of answers from the material (House & Grounds) to the sublime (the spiritual environment in which we live). We are definitely stewards of our property and of our children (careful distinction between these was made, along with the question of how to avoid thinking of ourselves as 'owning' our children).
We are stewards of our relationships, our impact on the environment, our portion of world resources, which includes human as well as physical substance. We are stewards of the capacity to perceive the Inner Light (within ourselves), and of the actions we take in response to promptings received. Do they wither away or are they nurtured into life?
The second query (for whom) started with the Iroquois idea of considering the needs and desires of the seventh generation to come. We are stewards for ourselves, so that we are able to respond (recreating the sense of the term 'responsibility').
We are stewards for everything everywhere, in a sense, because of the integrated web that is life. We may not even know the influence of our actions, so in this sense we do not even know for whom we act.
We are stewards for Quakerism, as stewardship is a witness against expediency, against extreme capitalism, against violence that hurts the planet or its people.
It is difficult to imagine stewardship in the positive sense of the Testimonies: saying one is a Steward of Peace, Simplicity, Equality, etc. is a bit like proclaiming one's divinity. Maybe it's a version of truth, but going there involves perils to the soul which may overbalance even the humblest ego.
But we can be Stewards of our own witness in support of and for the benefit of Quakers and humanity. We in that way can be stewards of our contribution to the spiritual climate of the earth.
The third query (for what purpose) started quietly and slowly with the observation that 'less is more' and that we must be on guard, pay attention. We then traveled through the ideas that the purpose is to help each other with discernment, to learn to accept our limitations, to transform ourselves and the Meeting, avoiding stagnation. We then arrived at the realization that the entire purpose is to glorify God.
It is Love made visible.
Stewardship is how we give ourselves dignity. We are all little people with egos, annoyances, and problems with self-esteem. Quakerism offers many huge ideas, and how we take our place in that lofty sphere, along with the many giants before us, is to practise stewardship of our Quaker ideals.
Whew. Thank you, thank you Quaker Friends. A simple afternoon of simple statements made in humility before each other has moved me, readjusted my attitude, renewed my spirit.
In spite of my many years of Quaker activity, I am again surprised and delighted by the Spirit at work through our little group of Peculiar People.
You are my people and I am yours.
The Simplicity Testamony speaks to this amazing facility we humans have to complexify ourselves and our lives without even thinking about it. Because we don't think about it. Is this inherently narrow vision, or is it an inherent tendency to avoid thinking? In any event, it seems to be programmed into us, requiring counter measures like Quakerism.
So to the queries. The Committee asked us to consider 3 questions:(1) of what are we stewards? (2) for whom are we stewards? (3) for what purpose are we stewards?
At the announcement that we were to have this Threshing Session, I was a bit mystified...like, what's to consider? We have to take care of stuff, so what's the problem? At first the questions seemed to be, well, simplistic, and I had little hope that the session would be interesting. Maybe we would use our time better if we talked about the complicated structure we have built within the Meeting and how to Simplify, Simplify.
How wrong I can be.
The first query (of what) resulted in a range of answers from the material (House & Grounds) to the sublime (the spiritual environment in which we live). We are definitely stewards of our property and of our children (careful distinction between these was made, along with the question of how to avoid thinking of ourselves as 'owning' our children).
We are stewards of our relationships, our impact on the environment, our portion of world resources, which includes human as well as physical substance. We are stewards of the capacity to perceive the Inner Light (within ourselves), and of the actions we take in response to promptings received. Do they wither away or are they nurtured into life?
The second query (for whom) started with the Iroquois idea of considering the needs and desires of the seventh generation to come. We are stewards for ourselves, so that we are able to respond (recreating the sense of the term 'responsibility').
We are stewards for everything everywhere, in a sense, because of the integrated web that is life. We may not even know the influence of our actions, so in this sense we do not even know for whom we act.
We are stewards for Quakerism, as stewardship is a witness against expediency, against extreme capitalism, against violence that hurts the planet or its people.
It is difficult to imagine stewardship in the positive sense of the Testimonies: saying one is a Steward of Peace, Simplicity, Equality, etc. is a bit like proclaiming one's divinity. Maybe it's a version of truth, but going there involves perils to the soul which may overbalance even the humblest ego.
But we can be Stewards of our own witness in support of and for the benefit of Quakers and humanity. We in that way can be stewards of our contribution to the spiritual climate of the earth.
The third query (for what purpose) started quietly and slowly with the observation that 'less is more' and that we must be on guard, pay attention. We then traveled through the ideas that the purpose is to help each other with discernment, to learn to accept our limitations, to transform ourselves and the Meeting, avoiding stagnation. We then arrived at the realization that the entire purpose is to glorify God.
It is Love made visible.
Stewardship is how we give ourselves dignity. We are all little people with egos, annoyances, and problems with self-esteem. Quakerism offers many huge ideas, and how we take our place in that lofty sphere, along with the many giants before us, is to practise stewardship of our Quaker ideals.
Whew. Thank you, thank you Quaker Friends. A simple afternoon of simple statements made in humility before each other has moved me, readjusted my attitude, renewed my spirit.
In spite of my many years of Quaker activity, I am again surprised and delighted by the Spirit at work through our little group of Peculiar People.
You are my people and I am yours.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
After All This Time
Madame Blavatsky makes the statement: "You are not your body." For some reason, this simple sentence, heard in various forms many times before, set off a new line of thinking for me.
It occurred to me that vanity, attachment to one's physical traits, is discouraged in most religious traditions because it literally attaches one to the physical form, impeding spiritual development. Thus, Biblical commandments might be pure statements about direct spiritual peril.
My, oh my. I have spent my life hearing things about being a nice person, having good character, and not having vanity as, ho hum, moral statements about being a 'good person.' Never occurred to me that this rather political surface layer could be stripped away to find a fresh, direct and vital spiritual heart.
It occurred to me that vanity, attachment to one's physical traits, is discouraged in most religious traditions because it literally attaches one to the physical form, impeding spiritual development. Thus, Biblical commandments might be pure statements about direct spiritual peril.
My, oh my. I have spent my life hearing things about being a nice person, having good character, and not having vanity as, ho hum, moral statements about being a 'good person.' Never occurred to me that this rather political surface layer could be stripped away to find a fresh, direct and vital spiritual heart.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Still Small Voice
I wanted to call this blog "Still Small Voice," but of course that name has already been taken up. The pun appeals to me: even after many years as a Quaker, I feel I am still a small voice, yet the beauty and mystery of that other still, small voice which emerges unexpectedly and randomly forms the ground on which I stand.
Several years ago I came across some information about an ancestor who lived during the time of George Fox. His name was Stephen Horsey and he had emigrated to the Eastern Shore of Virginia (and later Maryland) where he had been elected to the House of Burgesses. Even before he had taken up his seat, though, he was dismissed for acting "after the manner of a Quaker."
This is also a delightful pun: I have long hoped and wished to be able to find in myself the immense quiet and wisdom of the Friends who gave me respect and dignity during my Young Friends years decades ago. You could say that I search after the manner of a Quaker.
Several years ago I came across some information about an ancestor who lived during the time of George Fox. His name was Stephen Horsey and he had emigrated to the Eastern Shore of Virginia (and later Maryland) where he had been elected to the House of Burgesses. Even before he had taken up his seat, though, he was dismissed for acting "after the manner of a Quaker."
This is also a delightful pun: I have long hoped and wished to be able to find in myself the immense quiet and wisdom of the Friends who gave me respect and dignity during my Young Friends years decades ago. You could say that I search after the manner of a Quaker.
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