Winter Essays 2024

Indigenous Peoples have long used smoking of fish and meat to preserve them far beyond the time that such food would otherwise still be edible. And some households now use smoking as a way of flavoring meat, including turkey, for immediate consumption. Smoking is also a technique that beekeepers use especially when extracting honey from hives. In all these methods, smoking is used as a practical means for providing food for the practitioners and for others.

We are not the inventors of this kind of smoking, but all of us are originators of modern, up-to-date, and creative ways of making life a little better for others. We do not need academic or professional credentials to do this, though many of us have learned well from mentoring we received from people whose example or teaching encouraged and supported the positive desires that were already within us. We have chosen our own ways for contributing to the well-being of others, whether those closest to us, or those on the extreme edges of our consciousness. 

Smoking of this personal kind is valuable for preserving the good that we intend to continue doing. It is healthy food for our spirits at times when we become acutely aware of both the great extent of suffering and misery of so many people in our contemporary world and our limitations in being able to do something significant to resolve it all. We know individuals in our immediate environment whose circumstances appear to us as extremely burdensome, and we are mindful of the hugely destructive wars that literally tear people apart physically as well as demolishing the fragile bonds of common humanity that we all share. Each day of living in such a world, we can draw encouragement and realistic hope by recalling the ways we communicate care, understanding, and compassion for others, sometimes in words, but often in kind looks and gestures. When we acknowledge the value of the small acts we perform, we are more likely to join in some communal efforts that have wider good results for people in need.

Most of want to alleviate suffering and make life better for people, but we can easily take on an attitude of “fixing whatever is broken,” so that we are the sole causes of whatever is accomplished. However, when we include praying for others among the things we do, our perspective becomes more expansive by accepting a most truly helpful reality: we are asking for help from someone whose capabilities and loving motivation are infinite. We call a repair person when we cannot do some things on our own. When we pray, we do not simply turn over the tasks to God and then walk away, but we are drawn more deeply into the care and concern that leads us to pray in the first place. We share in what God accomplishes.

Smoking like this is for a good purpose.

Some of us have discovered a form of freedom that is available to all who have more clothing or other possessions than they need. Whenever we give away or otherwise dispose of some things that we do not need, we accomplish more than simply acquiring a little more space in a closet or storage area; we gain helpful information about ourselves. It can be humbling if we find within us some reluctance to let go of possessions, however irrelevant they might now be to our well-being, and at the same time to also find the reasoned courage to act contrary to that reluctance. Freedom of this kind remains with us when we act on the belief that things do not own us. The material things we use have no claims on us as do persons, who have their own rights.

There is a spiritual mystery which lies hidden in all the objects that we have at our disposal. It is hidden, because we live in a culture that is based on the idea that more is always better. The proclamation of this aspect of our culture impacts our senses so powerfully and so subtly, that we can easily miss or pass over those times of quiet reflection in which we might review specific experiences in our day. When we recognize feelings of satisfaction at clearing some clutter of material things from our personal environment, we gain the perspective of less as more. The mystery is revealed within us through observation of our experiences, because the idea that more is always better is only that: an idea, and not a reality.  

Just as faith in general seeks understanding of what we believe, so with our awareness, however slight it might be, that less can be more. We want to make some sense of our simple pleasure at disposing of things that do not actually help us be the loving kinds of persons we want to be. Freedom means much to us, not just political freedom, but freedom from interior compulsion, from fear of what others might think, and from being required to keep anything that once meant something to us. Freedom, like every aspect of life is not in the past nor in the future, but in the present. If we do not now need some of what we have, and with no clear concept of ongoing or future use, we are free to detach ourselves from them and thereby increase our sense of personal freedom and self-respect.                                                                                                                                                                                                

As with any way of proceeding, it is only after repeated conscious choices that we develop a habit, whether getting regular exercise or managing all the material things which accumulate around us. If we consciously seek to eliminate whatever we do not need, we will honor our belief in less as more. 

There are many ways of giving assent to a request, and of expressing approval of a statement. The clearest and most direct means is to say, “Yes, even though other words and gestures can convey our intentions quite well. If we know our own minds and hearts, and are committed to our truth, we will find the way to communicate our meaning as will best fit the situation before us.

Our “yes” is much more significant than the mere utterance of a word. When   we agree, it is with our whole person: physical, mental, and spiritual. To say “yes” with any kind of reservation is not “yes,” but some other word that evades commitment. When we do not know where we stand in our hearts and minds, honesty requires that we refrain from giving consent or acceptance. We might find it unpleasant to maintain silence or to refuse to respond to a question or a statement, but such a moment of discomfort will pass. Saying “yes” when we do not support it with our whole being will continue to hurt long after the moment of our inauthentic response has gone.

When our “yes” is whole-hearted, it is perhaps the most powerful expression of which we are capable. Most of the occasions when we consciously give assent are relatively minor, but each decision we make, whether great or small, not only exemplifies us and reveals our values, but also makes us who we are. Although we sometimes must struggle with a strong influences of persons and incidents as well as our own thoughts and feelings, a “yes” that represents our inner desire for whatever is better carries with it a personal conviction and a commitment that others might like or dislike, but which they recognize as having been decided conclusively. Like a tree that some admire, and others wish were another kind, all accept that it is there. We do not stand in one place like a tree, but our assent does state unequivocally where we are and to some degree who we are. 

This power and responsibility of ours to make decisions is no optional quality that we might or might not choose to have. Every other human characteristic allows for degrees of both/and. But when we mean “yes,” rather than avoiding a decision with a “maybe,” we are, without necessarily being aware of it, giving expression to our highest calling, love. And love is always a decision, whether accompanied by intense feelings or none of any kind. Just as every action of God is an expression of love, so we, who are made “in God’s image and likeness,” can likewise manifest our love in all we say and do, especially when we consciously desire to perceive, accept, and act in accord with the inspirations that are offered to us every day. 

We usually anticipate with pleasure a dinner with friends but might anticipate a medical appointment with some anxiety. When we think about future events, feelings are stirred within us. The intensity of our feelings depends primarily on the degree to which we imagine what will happen to us in the upcoming proceedings. The more positive our estimation, the more optimistic we will be about whatever we look forward to doing. Conversely, the more negative view we take about the possibilities of future events, the stronger our feelings of anxiety will be.

The pre-Christmas season raises a variety of spontaneous thoughts and feelings in us, but in anticipating Christmas, we can consciously choose whether to focus on the potentially affirmative aspects, or the opposite. To begin with, it helps to consider that we are not obligated to follow presumed expectations or imagined duties that are associated with Christmas by commercial or even societal interests. For us to happily anticipate Christmas, we can identify and reflect upon an attitude, value, or ideal that includes our beliefs about the goodness of people and the goodness of God.

If we think about the personal outlays of time, energy, and finances that we might spend on gift-giving, communicating, decorating, and planning for gatherings of people, our anticipation of Christmas will probably be diminished. However, if we think about the same things as ways of expressing our love, we will expend the same amount of our resources as with the former way of looking at them, but our anticipation will much more likely be satisfying and in accord with our deeper values. We will always find more interior resonance with goodness when we consciously seek to manifest our love, including all our decisions about what we will do and not do in celebrating Christmas.  

From the perspective of believing that God became one of us through human birth, we can anticipate Christmas not as a long-ago event, nor only a soon-to-come date in the calendar, but as a present movement of consolation in our minds and hearts. That is, our conscious engagement with what we accept as real – the mystery of faith – transcends time, and so anticipating Christmas is as significant as will be our experiences on the day itself. God is present with us always and everywhere, so that whenever we engage with our belief that God chooses to go through the entire human process of birth as the way to reach our hearts, it happens. Christ becomes present to us as both loving human companion and loving God, saving us through our acceptance of this love and through our loving response to it.

Our faith is a means for anticipating graced realities that would be otherwise missed.

When we wish people a Happy New Year, we accept that the previous year is past. When we celebrate a birthday or an anniversary, we add to the total, and do not go back to the prior year. We live in an environment marked by time as well as by space. However, we are much more than physical, temporal beings. We are capable of love, which is not bound by time, although every movement of love that we give and receive always takes place in its present moment.

Every thought, word, and act of love is new when it occurs, but is also old, in the sense of being a continuation of the spiritual movement that originates from us as the unique persons we are and have been ever since we were born, and is ultimately of God, who is love eternal. Reflecting on love as new and at the same time old is valuable, because we are so naturally time-oriented that we can easily fail to appreciate the timeless quality of our lives and miss the joy of recognizing the apparent opposites that fit so well together.

Some of us look continually at devices that measure time with the desire to carefully coordinate what we do with when we do it. Others avoid indications of time as much as possible, wanting to emphasize what they do and perhaps why they do it, rather than when. While we might habitually act according to either of the above modes of going about our lives, we can also look reflectively at our familiar way of behaving as to how and to what degree it matches with our desire to continue growing in love. We can ask of ourselves how our consciousness of time either assists or inhibits our recognition and acceptance of the little signs of love as they come to us from others and as they go forth from us to others. We cannot adjust the passage of time, but we are certainly able to decide how we relate with it.

The spiritual side of our lives is neither an optional add-on nor of lesser importance than our physical bodies. Rather than being like water and oil shaken together, our spiritual selves are entirely one with our physical selves. Even in the most serene prayer, we are doing so as a living biological being. Conversely, even our heartbeat and breathing which require no thought on our part, are inseparably related to all the choices we have made since be began living. We can distinguish some of our more spiritual movements from those that are more physical, and we constantly make choices that prioritize one or the other. However, we have no options or capabilities for love except as embodied spirits.

More than only being thankful for the blessings of a year past and hopes for the year to come, we can be most grateful that love transcends time, and is forever.

If we have already solved a problem, do we sometimes need to re-solve it? Especially with techniques for managing communication devices, we might forget how we did something, and go through the learning steps again, hoping this time to keep it in memory. Ordinarily, we understand the resolving of problems as a process in which we successfully find satisfactory conclusions. However, we might look again at how we resolve difficult situations and see if we are not usually incorporating some re-solving as part of how we normally overcome stubborn knots that we sometimes face.

Almost all of what we think of as new challenges contain properties that are somewhat familiar to us. In resolving whatever is before us, we will creatively make use of information that is not as consciously available as would be a book or an Internet resource, but which yet provides what we need to achieve our purposes. The practical outcome is our concern, not whether or to what degree we were re-solving a variation of something we had solved in the past. There is some value, however, in acknowledging with gratitude our amazing capacity for problem-solving, no matter how the process works within us.

We could think of resolving a conflict or a thought-problem as entirely a matter of thinking and remembering, but that is surely insufficient. Imagination and inspiration are essentials for any creative activity, and these are not simply functions of our brains, for they have a spiritual component. We know what it is like to seek an appropriate resolution for something of concern to us, and how some of the work involves careful reasoning. We also know from experience that we are more successful and come to conclusions more quickly, when we allow for imaginative and often surprising non-linear thoughts to simply appear in our minds: a mysterious activity that is quite welcome once we learn to accept it.

When we reflect on our manner of dealing with all the ordinary and sometimes unique problems that arise in our daily living, we can focus our attention on the aspect of the insights and inspirations that we find so helpful and can wonder at what takes place within us as we accept and use them. Since they appear in our minds, they are surely ours, yet they are not the same as logical progressions of steps that could be written down and used again. Although we are pleased when we solve problems with logic, we usually find joyful delight when we receive sudden, resolving revelations for successful conclusions.

Though we have no physical evidence to prove how the mysterious beneficial experience of inspiration takes place within us, there surely is only the additional joy of gratitude when we thank God for the gift.

In a social environment where we are strongly urged to compare ourselves with the accomplishments, appearance, or behavior of others, it is good to consider the Christmas mystery: God becomes like us so that we might become like God. We do not try to compare ourselves with the lover of all creation. Nor are we intended to become the same as God or anyone else. Comparison easily leads to judging ourselves as less than or greater than someone else, which is not a helpful or realistic way to establish or complement our uniqueness. Rather, continually striving to become like God, and like all that is God-like in others, is how we become the persons we are meant to be.

Our every thought, desire, and action towards becoming like someone else is almost always because we like the other person and/or their behavior. “Like” is a gentle but real form of love, which helps us to understand and appreciate the excellence of motivation inciting us to imitate the goodness we observe in other people and in God. This radically differs from the confused motivation that lies behind comparisons with others, whereby we would evaluate our worth according to our estimate of being better or less good than others in the qualities we have selected.

The comparison that diminishes people is not the same as the results of tests and contests in which specific accomplishments or attributes are measured. Some individuals score higher, and others score lower; one team wins, the other loses. These are objective comparisons, and feelings of elation and disappointment may follow, but they do not truly identify one person as better, more valuable, more loving or loved, than anyone else. We aspire to always do better whatever we do, and we can measure the miles we have walked if we want to increase our exercise, or the hours of volunteer service we have given if that is a goal. We become better persons, thereby, but there is no legitimate measure of comparison by which any of us can become a better person than someone else.

We can, when we admire what we see others doing, try to do the same or better, so that we fulfill potentials in us that we would not otherwise have considered or desired. Although we can do this competitively and be judged as better or less good than others in the identified categories, we are always winners if we are striving to be the best we can at that time. We can lose the contest and not lose self-respect if we are clear that what we are doing is from love, not compulsion. And we can win or come out ahead of others in some measurable event and not take on an inflated concept of our worth if we love whatever we do rather than perform it to “prove” our value as persons.

We are all incomparable persons. 

One of the more common usages for “grounded” refers to the affirmative quality of people who make their decisions based on realities rather than fantasies. Even imaginative stories may be grounded in truths about humans that enlighten people, whereas other stories that are based on deliberate deceptions only cause confusion. Similarly, the way we relate with one another, even with those we know only slightly, will always be better when we are grounded in respect for others rather than if we were to consider the motives of everyone else as suspect.

A football is grounded when it touches the ground, which exemplifies the basic meaning that is intended even when we refer to ideas, for nothing in normal experience is more accepted as real than the ground upon which we live. We want our lives to be grounded in reality, although we would like to avoid pain, suffering, limitations, and death itself.  

We might wonder about heaven, as to how well or poorly grounded is our concept of that invisible environment which we believe is real and is not subject, for example, to the physical laws of gravity. Since whatever we imagine heaven to be exceeds all we know about ground and being grounded, perhaps we could use another word, “heavened,” to support our belief. Such a word, not found in any dictionary, can serve us well if we reflect on what we believe about heaven.

Heaven cannot be a physical place nor a specific location, as these would be limited in both size and time as are the earth and the entire universe in which earth exists. Rather, God is the ultimate reality in which we exist, together with whatever else God creates. Heaven is wherever God is and cannot exist separately from God. Our physical senses cannot perceive this reality which transcends not only space and time, nor are we capable of grasping it fully with mind and imagination. However, with our interior, spiritual senses, we can respond with awe, sometimes with reverential fear, whenever we ponder about heaven in this way and have a real and meaningful experience of being “heavened.”

Even though we know that heaven is not a place, we use familiar words, concepts, images, and ideas to talk about it in ways that help us engage with a mystery that not even the most creative and imaginative person can come close to comprehending. All our comparative words can be helpful if we accept their limitations. Thinking of heaven as “up,” for example, has a far more positive connotation for us than “below.” All the descriptors we use for heaven in referring to it as if it was a place, are related to qualities that we value, such as security, peace, beauty, community, love, painlessness, and much more. Using such words and ideas, together with inspired imagination, will almost certainly result in our being “heavened.”

We know what it is to work, or to work towards a goal, or even to work a deal, which, although it is close to being slang, is easily understood. All such activity requires efforts on our part. We are also familiar with uses of the word that are passive, as when we say, “that will not work for me.” The meaning here is not about anyone’s exertions but about conditions that promote or limit possible activities.

Although we sometimes speak of animals and even machines as doing work, we know that work is much more significant and almost definitive for us, as humans. Work is not only what we do as part of our careers but includes all the efforts we expend while living, each of us according to our present circumstances. Some of us are paid executives, others are hourly employees, some are students, others are active retired persons, and still others continually respond as they can to limitations of health, age, and all else that is outside their control.  

Even God is often described as working, while creating and giving being to all that exists. The analogy of God as a worker helps us recognize and accept all that we receive in God’s creation as gifts, but it only an analogy, for we are bound by the limiting physical property of entropy, but God simply IS, with no change in gain or loss of energy. God creates not by doing something as we must when we work creatively. Rather, God is love, and all that is created is in God as directly expressive of this love. Implicit for us whenever we talk about work, is that we grow tired, which does not apply to God in any way. However, we might find it consoling and supportive to reflect on whether or to what degree our love affects our work.

Perhaps we do not even call it work when we are engaged in doing what we love, as when we become exhausted organizing and guiding a party for very close friends or family members but are glad to do it. Because employment is generally designated as work, some of us might say that we love what we do, so that we are hardly aware of how much effort we put into pursuits that are fulfilling and that bring us joy and happiness. When love is involved, only those with the experience of the specific activities can say whether or how much they consider them to be work. Some might objectively call “work” almost anything in which people exert themselves, including volunteer service. Still others might limit their concept of work strictly to paid employment.

However, whatever we do for love is ours to name as work if we wish, or, much closer to how God might describe all of creation as simply, “this is what I do.”

If one person asks another, “Why do you go to Church?” we understand that the answer depends completely upon however the person who is asked decides to respond. Additionally, the intent of the question depends upon the one who asks and can be as personally revelatory as any response that might be given. How we ask or answer any question involving personal beliefs comes best from honest reflection and a desire to share truth rather than to confirm a set of ideas or to conform to other’s expectations. Finally, if we ask of others or even of ourselves about a specific communal expression of our faith, personal integrity is most appropriate. 

We can easily distinguish between a persecutor asking a person a question about faith with the threat of causing suffering or death if the answer is deemed unacceptable, and the kind of question that sometimes arises in a conversation where the stakes are very small. However, we vary greatly in the ease or difficulty with which we reply to a sincere question about any religious practices we engage in with others, or in the forming of questions when we desire to know what moves others to engage in directly faith-related gatherings.

This moment now, or sometime later, we might like to carefully observe ourselves while we formulate a question about our motives for “going to church” or for participating in any other observable faith tradition of ours, and then make note of our experience while we compose a well-considered honest answer. Noticing our feelings while we think through what we choose to compose with such care can reveal the workings of the gift of faith moving within our minds and hearts. Whatever our relationship might be with God, Love, or transcendence, it surely is more than just a habit of “going to church” or any other repeated practice.

From our personal histories, we can name some possible causes for whatever trust we might have in God, but the mystery of how we freely rely on unseen realities to our benefit and that of everyone with whom we relate cannot be fully explained or described, but it is eminently worthy of grateful reflection. We do not have to know much about our faith to observe and appreciate whatever takes place within us when we respond in trust to gentle inspirations or when we consciously exercise faith in seeking guidance or even clear directions. Sometimes we suffer when we act in accordance with our faith, but we can never injure ourselves by trusting God, Goodness, or Love.

We might not be sure why we believe, but peace and joy are direct consequences of trusting our experience of faith. 

Most of us do not like to make mistakes, and even less to acknowledge them to others. There is nothing enjoyable about telling a group that a meeting is cancelled because we failed to send out an announcement or that a promised visit did not occur because the date was not calendared. The hardest part about mistakes is the realization that no matter what means are taken to correct them afterwards, the inconvenience was caused by oneself.

The more unpleasant aspect of mistakes easily comes to mind because of the disturbing feelings that immediately follow. The positive side of mistakes is not apparent until after we reflect on how we responded to the realization that the error was ours. Most of us have learned that when others are involved, the sooner we acknowledge a mistake, the better the results for all concerned. Rather than causing harm, often the admission of our fallibility resonates with the same reality in others, and relationships grow stronger rather than the opposite. However, if we delay, the troubling feelings remain and grow stronger, and the likelihood of gracious acceptance by others decreases.

Besides deciding on the manner and timing of responses to our missteps, we always have possibilities of not only learning from mistakes, which is good, but also of gaining a more realistic sense of our capabilities and some welcome growth in our relationships with people and with God.

Realistically, we all have areas of skills and competence based on much practice that we exercise with confidence and only rarely with any kind of error. However, if we look back, we might see that we grew into our present strong habits after having made mistakes that caused us some pain, and from such moments, we developed the proficiency that guides us now. Also, we are less well-equipped for some tasks than others, and perhaps not as interested in them as we are with preferred activities. Even with much experience we might still forget what we once learned about them or become distracted while doing something that is not as important or as familiar to us.

Making mistakes is a normal part of life and differs radically from the kinds of actions that elicit true guilt. A mistake is inadvertent, so the feelings of disappointment and embarrassment are not the same as the sharp sting of true guilt when we have made a conscious choice that we knew to be contrary to our good and that of others. We can also learn from such behavior, but healing is usually required for whatever injury may have been involved in conscious wrongdoing.

“My mistake!” can state the simple truth both to us and to others who have been affected. Since no harm was intended, none can be received. 

Upon seeing the mention of a vacuum our first thought might be of a machine for cleaning floors, so named because the fan removes air from one end, and dust and dirt rush in to fill the emptying container. The primary meaning of a vacuum is the creation of a space from which material has been removed. Many scientific instruments and commonly used devices depend upon sealed vacuum containers from which air has been removed. The universe itself is a vacuum, where even the presence of massive unnumbered stars does not begin to fill it with matter.

If we choose to think about it, the earth is like a container where matter, including air, is on the inside, and the relatively empty space beyond earth’s atmosphere is on the outside, where astronauts must wear very strong armored suits if the exit a sealed space station. We humans have the capability of both creating a vacuum by removing air from containers and of creating containers for ourselves so that we can safely enter the vast airless vacuum of space.

A vacuum is a physical property that follows scientifically verifiable laws, but we also apply the term to familiar mental, emotional, and spiritual realities. Sometimes we might even say that our minds are like vacuums, devoid of any thoughts, or that our minds are like vacuums, pulling in any kind of passing thoughts. Although we cannot alter the physical reality of a vacuum, we can apply the concept of a vacuum however we want, illustrating one of the differences between the limitations of matter and the wider range of the human spirit. 

On occasions of stress, we sometimes are so vaguely aware of what we are feeling, it is as though we are in an emotional vacuum, where all feelings have been removed. Lest we remain a sealed container in which there is no spiritual activity and no ability to reason or even pray, we can rely on the physical meaning of a vacuum by consciously removing as much air as possible from our lungs and diaphragm, and then letting the air rush in to fill the vacuum. This activity, after some repetitions, often enables us to identify the feelings and the thoughts that elicited them, thereby gaining the freedom to respond appropriately, even by beginning with prayer.

When it seems to us that our spirits and our hearts are in a vacuum because neither consoling nor troubling movements take place within us, we can proactively exercise our faith by using our minds and memories. Specifically, we can recall when we have felt the presence of God in the past and remind ourselves that God is always present even when we do not have any feelings because of this presence. Love, including God’s love for us, is not a feeling, but a choice, and we are chosen to live in God, not a vacuum.

No one would be surprised to hear of someone offering up prayers for peace or for some other intention. But who would even think of offering prayers down? The force of gravity is effective upon all physical matter throughout the universe but has no effect on prayer, which does not go up or down but is a direct and instant exchange between us and God. However, we use metaphors involving familiar physical realities when talking about prayer, to help us understand and appreciate more fully the subtle spiritual movements that take place within us when we pray.

We can see the effects of the invisible force of gravity simply by releasing any object above the ground. There is no delay in the process which affects all material in the same way. We cannot perceive the instant effects of prayer if we expect similar visible consequences, but we can observe the real responses that take place within our spirits. Gravity is always operative, but unless we choose to think about it, we will not likely be aware of its influence even if we see something fall to the floor. Prayer is similar, in that we can say a prayer half-consciously at one time and at another engage fully in heart-to-heart communication. We will probably not detect any effects in the first kind of prayer but will very likely be affectively moved by the second.

Some people rarely acknowledge the concept of gravity, just as others might give no thought to communicating with God. Those who choose to consider the effects of the force of gravity, whether using that term or some other, find satisfaction in understanding the physical consequences and are also thereby enabled to make many practical decisions affecting their lives. No one can coerce another person to pray, and God certainly does not force a relationship upon us. However, we become capable of love only after being loved, which is always an aspect of prayer.

When we respond to God’s limitless love for us in prayer, we find ourselves becoming more settled and at peace, no matter how physically and emotionally we are affected by whatever else is happening. The experience is like what happens when we let a close friend or family member know about some burden which we must carry. The load is not removed, yet we are better able to continue, and become more open to possible suggestions, inspirations, or ideas that we had not previously been able to see.

Gravity exerts a pull that becomes exponentially stronger the closer anything is to the attracting mass. Prayer is similar, in that the attractive force of God affects us more strongly the more we exercise our belief in God as Love, present to us where we are and as we are.’’