Category Archives: doing good

Giving the Right Gifts

01 Monday May 2017

Posted by in blessing, celebrations, doing good, gifts, letting go, open heart

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for John, Dalton, Sean, Erica Lee, Ezra, Erica Brooke,  (and the March and Fall Celebrants too!)

This Eastertide season (slightly extended) this year is the most intense season of celebrations in our family: 3 anniversaries, three birthdays, a graduation, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, all in a matter of a few weeks. This year there are several banner occasions: 75th birthday and 20th anniversary and high school graduation, not to be taken lightly. And I, as the Cheerleader of Celebrations, get twisted up in giving just the right gift to each one for each occasion, the Perfect Thing!

Of course, out of my wrestling comes the realization that there is no “Perfect Thing” that can be given to each and every beloved one each and every time. Sacred text tells me that the only perfect gifts are given by God. Nevertheless, I keep trolling magazines and websites for ideas that suit the recipient, the stage of life, the need and my checkbook. There is not shortage of wonderful ideas and possibilities out there. It is not for lack of possibilities that I get stuck.

It is my ego-need where I get bogged down; I want my gifts to make the person I love respond with glee, gratitude and to be overwhelmed with this memorable and grace-filled present. No wonder I get jammed up! So it is with relief that I encounter and begin to appropriate the Jewish concept of mitzvah, giving a gift, according to some sources, for the good of someone else without expectation of reciprocity, notice or thanks. WELL! That re-frame the entire endeavor!

I have recalled many of the gifts given in Hebrew and Christian scripture: Joseph’s coat of many colors, the Queen of Sheba’s contributions to Solomon’s coffers, the expensive perfume with which Mary Magdalene anointed the feet of Jesus, the apostle Peter confronting the man who was lame from birth with these words: “Silver and gold have I none, but what I have I give you,” and he lifts the man up to full standing mobility. All of them are gifts that have complications in relationships, so I am not the first giver to be bemused in my giving.

What I am am being invited to do in this season of celebration and remembering is to open myself to each honoree–to see him as he really is, to listen to her conversation that gives me clues as to what she longs for, to be willing to share part of my own spirit of love and hope for him, to do what I can, and to let the results and reactions be whatever they are, no harm, no foul, no expectations—just open heart and open hand from me.

I read in 2 Corinthians that “God loves a cheerful giver,” and the corollary to that is the Holy One is able to provide me, the giver with “every blessing in abundance, so that I may always have enough of everything…” So I can go about the business of gift giving without anxiety, knowing that I will have what I need to celebrate my loved one–and others–with joy, with freedom, with trust and delight, despite the price tag, the competition with the other grandparents, the fear of rejection. It’s how I give, not what I give that makes the difference. And my heart is full of love for each and very one, with gratitude for what he and she have brought to me and our family, and with hope that what I offer will be a token of that love and gratitude for each one.

And I can give each gift with a blessing. My late friend Rabbi Sheryl Lewart in her book Blessings for Life’s Journey, gives me some words:

May you feel embraced, enfolded anew by the miracle of your being. May you find the deep purpose of your soul loved and cherished into becoming who you are meant to be… May you be a source of holiness for others, May you treasure and develop your uniqueness and be a blessing to all you meet. Amen.

 

 

 

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Seasoning Eastertide!

22 Saturday Apr 2017

Posted by in blessing, doing good, Easter, paying attention

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I was deeply disappointed last Sunday, Easter Day, when I was felled by a vicious 5 day cold that knocked me so flat that, for my sake and the welfare of the community I could neither join a worshiping congregation, nor serve a festive dinner to my family. All the elements of Easter baskets are lying unopened in the grocery bag, the cards are unwritten, and the one lily is languishing. I became very heartened, however, when I realized that in the liturgical calendar in some traditions Eastertide is 50 days, not just One Big Day! So I have time, time to celebrate and rejoice, time to ponder the gospel accounts of the post-Resurrection accounts of Jesus life with his friends, and especially to notice where Easter is happening, where new life is springing forth, where the signs of hope and Light are evident for the fist time or recurring again.

The seasoning of Easter keeps coming day after day even in this first week after the celebration day. I have heard a story of someone completely bereft who suddenly received comfort after it seemed like there was no comfort to be had. I witnessed hope and energy take root in one who had been mired in despair for months, but who now had a sense of agency and power to keep moving toward hope. I was present when a group of friends gathered, bringing with them the predictable crises of their separate lives, and as they reflected on the love demonstrated in resurrection and the promise of new life, the joy and grace between them deepened, widened and hope was palpable, despite the incessant toll of Awful Things in the lives of our world.

So I am looking around for the Season of Easter with vigilance and scrutiny during this Eastertide, these remaining 44 days. I have already heard of a new job, a mended friendship, a lifting of dullness, an easing of conflict, and I am witnessing acts of mercy and justice all around me in the neighborhood, in the Church and in the world.

So I ask how I can contribute to this new life that we celebrated last Sunday. Paying attention is my primary practice–the the salesperson the barrista, the server, the mail carrier. Each of them is worthy of receiving the Light of Easter, even if it is just a warm and attentive exchange over business. I am also aware that there are places that need care where I must to be present–in person, by phone or by e-mail; all I have to bring is my presence and my hope. To give advice is not nearly as alive and joyful an Easter flavor as it is to show up in some way. I am also hoping to stretch out to give what the Jewish traditions calls mitzvahs, those acts of hospitality and grace in which there is no possibility of payback or reciprocity. I feel as if the seasoning in my own heart in celebrating Easter once again replenishes me for that kind of extension and effort.

My garden, blooming to beat the band, with new surprises every morning, is the tangible prompt to me to be receiving and giving the seasoning of Easter right now. Every morning I look for a new blossom! In our journey the dying is not the last word; there is new life after death. And as long as I am alive, whether or not I can get to the Big Band celebrations of Easter Day or not, I can use these days of Eastertide to take in the glory and the power of Christ’s resurrection, and then to sprinkle and spice all these gifts that new life brings–love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, and gentleness–while I do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with the Risen One.

 

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Advent III: Signs of Hope-Harmony

11 Sunday Dec 2016

Posted by in advent, balance, doing good, Hope, joy

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So much of the Great Grayness that we are living through is covered with noise and disconnection. We read of or hear people screaming, horns blasting, helicopters hovering, sirens klaxoning all through our roads and towns. I long for peaceful silence, and yet there is a hopeful lilt in the atmosphere when I hear beautiful harmony. It is in the old carol’s words, “heavenly music (that) floats o’er all the weary world.”

It grounds me in the promise of Hebrew Scripture that there will come a day with a new heaven and a new earth, where the wolf and the lamb shall feed together and the lion shall eat straw like the ox (Isaiah 65: 17, 25). Things will fit together and make beautiful music together. Most Sunday mornings as soon as I wake, I tune into our local classical music station to the offering called “Soul Music.” For three hours I drink in choral music, primarily sacred, sung to ancient texts of Hebrew and Christian Scripture. Some of it is sung in languages other than my own; some of it offers plangent chords and melodies which cover the words. But the bringing together of the voices themselves–four part, madrigal, chant, echoes–all remind me of the promised dream: Peace on earth and good will to all people.

I practice feeding that dream all during Advent and Christmas. This year so far I have heard Eric Whitacre conduct a holiday concert in the downtown Disney Hall, blending old Christmas songs with his modern compositions. I have heard our church choir sing one of Bach’s less known cantatas, “For Unto Us a Child in Born,” expressing words of hope and trust. In our small group of friends who have gathered for 20 years, as we reflected on this past year and anticipated turning into the new year , we sang in the half-light, “O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer  our spirits by thine advent here…” Then we sang, “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel,” words from the 9th C. Latin, hoping, looking, trusting, as we are trying to do. And the harmonies reassure me that it is all true!

In my conversations in these days, which can so readily turn to despair and bleakness, I listen for the harmonies can keep me hopeful. There is a family widely divergent in their politics whose members treat each other with love and respect. There is a man who has given himself to caring for an aging family member, as he volunteers at his church for the jobs that no one else does. There is a church who provides a community dinner every Sunday night all year long for the seasonal workers who come through the town. There is a community of educators who unanimously vote to safeguard its students who are at risk of deportation. There is a church who goes out on a limb to bring justice and mercy for those who are at risk in the neighborhood.

My call as the music in me and around me brings harmony to the world is to be one of the voices that fills in the chords, that supports the ostinato beneath the solo, that helps the chorus swell with joy as the Light appears, or even as the Hope of it soothes my heart. I  sense I want to be one of the angels that the carol sings about and let the Hope  in harmony fill me:

And you beneath life’s crushing load, whose forms are bending low,/ who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow,/ look now for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing:/ O rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing. (It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, Sears.)

 

The illustration is taken from “A Charlie Brown Christmas.”

 

 

 

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Seeing What’s New in Your Call

04 Monday May 2015

Posted by in Discernment, doing good, Easter

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images-6In Eastertide 2015 I am looking for what new things the Resurrection is bringing forth in the world and in me. What am I called to do in light of the promise of new life? I have gotten all wrapped up this week in wondering how to talk about Call and vocation…and then this this week happened–what a week! The country of Nepal is staggering is unbelievable grief, destitution and bafflement after a huge earthquake has killed thousand of people, has cut off many from life-giving supply line and has razed place after place that people called home. It almost defies imagination! What am I to do?

Another evening falls, and a section of Baltimore goes up in smoke manifesting years of tension in the area between the residents and police. There are tears, there is fear, there is rage, there are too many news media covering the events and non-events. And the anguish is horrifying and palpable. Again what am I to do?

I am a woman with choices–retired, educated, housed and fed. I live in a multi-ethnic, multi-cultural neighborhood in a huge metropolitan city in Southern California, and I have lived here for over 30 years. The challenges of this metropolis are enormous. What am I called to do?

Two stories from sacred texts have grounded me this week. The first is the story of Moses in Exodus 3 in which he encounters an angel wrapped in a bush that won’t stop burning, and is told that this is holy ground. Doing what I know to do, yet, yet turning aside to see what is new, is the dynamic in which my call is uncovered. It is here shepherding the flocks that Moses discovered what the next right steps were for his call.

The other story that tugs at my heart has similarities. After the resurrection the disciples don’t know what to do or where to go, so they return to the familiar family business of fishing. And once again, that is the place of Holy encounter–Jesus invites them to breakfast on the beach, and then lets them discover their call in a Q and A with Peter; it is command  to to feed his sheep as an act of Love. It seems very generic–but it is an ample directive, suitable to almost any place that each one of them will find himself. To feed in a spiritual sense is to welcome, to nourish, to take care of–for Love’s sake.

So this last week unfolded with opportunities to recognize Holy Ground underneath me and with ways to express Love to those who were brought to me: for the rescue, recovery and healing of Nepal, there were opportunities to give and to pray, some with specific need and names; for Baltimore, I had the chance to be grateful for the spiritual community leadership that arose gave witness and strength to the slow evolution toward calm. Each of those sites is Holy Ground–God is there in the carnage and struggle to heal. What is more, I only need to be aware of turning aside to nurture and nourish those given to me each day in the name of Love. I found that one day after another there were requests for prayers to be offered–for one in surgery, for one in despair, for one who is dying, another in treatment, someone in transition–and often the call for the day prompted an action–a letter to a senator, a wee gift sent for encouragement, a date for a phone call, a card for remembering, a check to help defray the expenses. Some of the connections were surprising! I was grateful that my pace could be measured enough to slow down, see if the call had my name on it, and then respond.

As long as I have life and breath, I am given opportunity to respond to the Call of the Holy, as long as I claim Holy Ground and do what i do for Love’s sake.