Junk Cars

So you've got a car. Is it the car you want? Maybe, maybe not. But it's the one you have, so make the most of it. You have your car and what do you do? You take care of it (well, some of us do, at least keep it mechanically sound). You are out there in the blazing sun washing and polishing your awesome car. You trade out the stock radio for a better one. You have good tires that you rotate and put that black stuff on. Maybe, there's even a little Yankee Candle air-freshener in there.

For many of us our car is at least partly a symbol of who we are. It's the thing that people see. It's probably the most expensive thing we have beside our house (though, this isn't always true). That car is like our life.

You've got your life, everyone alive has one. On the outside it may be perfect: not dents, no scratches. It's polished and clean. It's you, a sports car, a minivan, a pick-up, a luxury sedan, or a Jeep. It tells the world what you want them to know, or at least think, about you. As nice and well-kept and socially edifying as your car is it takes gasoline to run. Without gas the best car in the world is just pile of junk in the driveway. Without a fuel source, it is totally useless. Without gas that car cannot perform the only purpose it really has, to transport you. Without gas, we never get out of the driveway. We just sit there, being pretty.

Our life is the same. We can be wealthy, successful in our career, physically fit, but without our fuel, that is God, we are the useless pile of junk in the driveway. We are incapable of fulfilling the only purpose we have. What makes are car a car is the fuel and the engine, everything else is just fluff. What makes us "us" is our soul and God who fuels us, everything else is just fluff.

In the end, which do you prefer? Would you rather have a junk car with a full tank or luxury car that can't move? Is your heart concerned with getting where you want to be or sitting in the driveway hoping the neighbors notice how awesome you are?

Discipline

"Nothing that anyone says will be that important. The great thing is prayer; prayer itself. If you want a life of prayer, the way to get to it is by praying." Thomas Merton

The way it seems to go is this: We want to do something. Whatever it is. I'll use an example. I have learned that it would seem that the key to a more holy, more spiritual, more contemplative life is discipline. The Druids have a saying, "To discipline the body is to feed the spirit." This is actually common to most religious traditions, particularly those that have a contemplative bent to them. So, there. Discipline is key. Okay. So what I do next? I think about discipline and very quickly get nowhere. In the end I have more questions than answers. I go online and look up different monasteries and see what their daily schedule consists of, because that is a disciplined life made real. But then I say, "I'm not a monk." Then I may read several articles on spiritual discipline in the life of the laity. I will read books on the contemplative life. I will talk to my friends about the desire to become more disciplined. And, later, I will say, "I don't even really know what to do" and drop it for six months. The one thing that I never did was begin to discipline myself. The thing I never did was actually start a daily discipline. Even if it didn't work and I had to change it later, it's better than nothing. 

What Merton is saying in the quote above is very often we spend too much time and energy studying prayer, reading books on "how to pray" instead of just praying. We read more books about the bible than we read the bible. It's almost as if we are fearful of actually engaging. If I try to become more disciplined and fail, then I have failed (or so I would think) and my method is open for criticism. If I never move beyond study, well, I can't be criticized because I'm still working. I haven't actually started. In reality, I should do it. I should do it, and if it isn't working adjust, then it isn't failure, but a lesson. The true failure is in never beginning.

One more example, then I'm done: Recently I've been trying to learn Chinese-style brush painting, or in Japanese: Sumi-e. So what did I do? Asked my wife for a brush set for my birthday, to which she replied. "No. This will not be the next pull-up bar or half-built wooden surfboard in the garage." But, she said she'd get them if I finished all the stuff for the Art Show, which I did. Anyway, the point is when I decided I wanted to do the brush painting, the first thing I did was look for a set of brushes, instead of experimenting with what I have. Because I don't have brushes, I don't have to try to paint, it just wouldn't make sense. Next I looked up all sorts of articles on the philosophy behind brush painting. Again, I don't do it because I 'm not sure I fully grasp it. I'm not sure I understand it. Then (still having never picked up a brush) I started watching videos of brush painting to study technique. What I should have doing the whole time was painting. I should have been actually painting and learning at the same time. No matter how many books I read or videos I watch, until I actually pick up a brush, I haven't done anything and I don't know anything.

And the first stroke of the brush, no matter what the line looks like, is worth more than everything I've done to now. The first words of an honest prayer are worth more than all the books and seminars will ever be. Until I make the first stroke, or speak the first word, I haven't actually engaged. Once I'm engaged I become invested and it becomes real. Now I can really move forward and really learn.  

Face of Christ

The poster above is the show I'm getting stuff ready for. I'm also not done yet, but it's not until Saturday, so no worries. If you are able to make it, you won't be dissappointed (I hope). Gary will have some of his work there. You've seen it here, it's also below.

Another is my friend Jeff Montgomery at http://www.knifeartist.com/, a sample is below.

No, I'm not putting any of mine up. If you want to see it, come to the show. Otherwise, I may post it later. All-right, here's one: "Contemplation":



Very Nearly Everything

Two weeks. One week the computer was down and last week, well, I'm lazy. Actually, last week I gave a retreat to class of eighth-graders. It went well. And  now there are less than two weeks to an art show I'm supposed to have paintings ready for. Supposed to. All of this stuff combined with work and family creates a lot of stress, which I've no doubt is something we all experience in our own lives in our own way. But... everything can be a tool for growth. Coming face to face with our weaknesses helps us overcome them. What does it all come down to? What is at the bottom of all our stress and anxiety? Desire.

Desire. Desire causes most if not all of our stress and anxiety. I am stressed about the retreat because my desire is for the kids to enjoy it. I get anxious about my art because I desire that people like it. Most of this is rooted in a desire to be praised or acknowledged: wasn't that a wonderful retreat? Isn't that a beautiful painting?

In a broader sense desire creates most of our suffering and anxiety because it is self-inflicted. We are anxious (and therefore suffer) over finances because we bought things we can't afford. Why did we do that? Usually because our culture has told us we need "this" to be happy. Our desire causes us to suffer because we don't have something, or someone, or haven't reached some-place that we think holds the key to contentment. If we ever do relieve our suffering by coming to possess whatever it was that we suffered over so desperately, we find a new anxiety over keeping it. I suffer because I must have this house, in this neighborhood, with this car in driveway to be finally happy and fulfilled. But now I'm anxious because I have to work longer hours to pay for it. I feel trapped because I have to stay with this job no matter how bad it gets because I can't stand the loss of any income. Worse, now I worry that someone might steal what I've got, or that what I have isn't good enough anymore and the guys at the country club will look down on me.

Seeking the praise of men instead of the peace of God.

Learning to relinquish desire is a major component of Jesus' teachings. It is a major part of the Apostolic letters in the New Testament. It is the core of the Christian monastic life. Interestingly enough it also concerns three of the Buddha's "Four Noble Truths"*. We were not created to be anxious and worried. God did not design us to suffer over anxiety about material things. We create most of our suffering. As the Buddha teaches, our suffering is the result of our desire. You want to relieve your suffering and anxiety; relieve your desire.

It's not what you think, or maybe it is. It is the commandment against coveting our neighbor's wife or goods. It is the deadly sin of envy. It lack of trust in God when Jesus tells His disciples to go out into the world with the clothes on their back; to be like the birds or lilies, not worrying about it. The modern saint and mystic, Padre Pio, says, "Hope, pray, and don't worry." The way not to worry is to trust in God avoid cluttering your life with things that create anxiety.

*Just in case you were wondering: The Four Noble Truths:

1. Life is filled with suffering.
2. Suffering is caused by desire (or attachment).
3. To relieve suffering, one must relieve desire (or attachment).
4. To relieve desire, follow the Eight-Fold Path**

**Kidding. I'm not writing all that.

Perenial Problem

De-tachment. Non-attachment. Un-attachment. Probably the most misunderstood word(s) in our vocabulary. We misunderstand them because the concept is completely foriegn to our Western culture. We struggle with the concept because it is essential for spiritual growth but we don't even really know what it is. Our modern sensibilities tend to see anything with a prefix of de-, non-, or un-, as a negative. If you tell people you are seeking non-attachment or even worse asceticism it will immediately conjure images of a snobbish, bored, stoic indifference to life and people. The other image (usually for someone who has just enough information to get into trouble) is the image of a hermit that sleeps on the ground, is generally filthy, and probably hits himself with things.

In reality, non-attachment is positive and necessary. How so? Non-attachment is the loss of attachment to self-preoccupation. It is letting go of the mind-set that always finds a way to place "me" at the center of everything. "Me" is concerned with "me" first and you, him, it, or they second, if at all. "Me" is in love with himself and only cares about anyone or anything to the extent that they provide "me" with something. Most of this is sub-conscious and we don't realize we are doing it. This "me" is one that complains about having to stand in line at the store, because, "Why should I have to stand here? I'm too important to wait in line."  It's also the "me" that loves my wife/kids/friends/boss/etc. when they are doing or acting the way I want them to but hate them when they aren't. Very often our ability to love another person is based on that person's ability to provide something we want. Even worse, our love for another is dependent on our imagined idea of what that person should be and when they inevitably fail, our love fails too.

In a silly way, this is the male mid-life crisis where he gets a divorce, buys a Corvette, pierces his ear, and starts dating a college sophomore. There are two things happening here: he is attached to an imagined image of himself and his life, when he realizes that image and reality don't match, he quits, gives, up, doesn't love himself anymore. He does the same to his wife; he had an imagined idea of what his wife should be and when he wakes up and realizes she isn't twenty-three anymore, his image fails and so his love for her fails. Because of his attachment he can't see past the fact that he-himself, his life, and his wife don't "provide" for him they way he imagines they should, so he can't love them and seeks new ones that fit the imagination. Again, the problem being, the new girlfriend won't stay young, the new car has to be paid for, and he still doesn't have a six-pack stomach. As long as he is attached to what people provide he will always be miserable. I'm sure you can think of a hundred other examples of this in our culture from entertainment to plastic surgery to greed and crime. 

If we were to learn non-attachment to what people are and focus on who they are we will have a long way in understanding Christ's command to love your neighbor as yourself. Non-attachment does not mean I no longer love my wife and kids because I'm "above that now". In reality it means that free from self-preoccupation I am truly free to love them. I am able to love them for who they are instead of what they can do for me. But it has to extend beyond my family and to my neighbor and to God. I have to become unattached to God, that is the God of my own image. I have to love God for who He is not what I imagine Him to be or want Him to be.

Blades of Grass

"If we study Japanese Art, we see a man who is undoubtedly wise, philosophic and intelligent, who spends his time doing what? In studying the distance between the earth and moon? No. In studying Bismark's policy? No. He studies a single blade of grass."  
  -- Vincent Van Gogh

In a fit of stupidity I agreed (several months ago) to participate in an art show. The show is on June 5. As of right now I'm about 3/4 finished with the second of five pieces we're supposed to provide. My primary discipline is painting, and I use acryllics, so I can't even say that I have to wait for the paint to dry and that's what is taking so long. I do have an innate tendency to paint things that are complicated, or very detailed (as a euphemism). Lately, though, I find myself drawn to simpler style. I also find that I enjoy a simpler style. 

The more contemplative my spirituality becomes I notice a tension between it and daily life. Of course, this shouldn't be. Hopefully it's just growing pains. The tension is that a contemplative life demands simplicity and our modern Western culture is anything but. Interiorly there is a longing to simplify the exterior in the same way that the interior simplifies.

When I say "simple" I don't mean "dumbed-down". I mean "essential". To simplify our lives means to get down to the essence of what life is, of what life is about. St. Augustine once said, "Love God, and do what you will." This is a terribly misunderstood and ill-used quote. It doesn't mean pay lip-service to God and then do whatever you want. It means that if you truly love God and order your life toward that love; then do what you will, because it is done in the context of Love of God. In this sense life suddenly becomes very simple. All the things our culture has reared us to worry about can fall away. They can fall because they don't matter, they never did.  

What does this have to do with Asian brush painting or blades of grass? Go back to the top and read the Van Gogh quote again. It's about how we clutter our lives with so many concerns that we don't notice the essence of what we are trying to depict. In the Taoist and Buddhist traditions harmony with nature is paramount, so the artist who is trying to depict nature studies nature. He doesn't just study nature, he contemplates the essence of nature. Anything that distracts him falls away as unimportant. In the Christian tradition we also want a harmony with creation but this comes from being united to God through Christ in the Holy Spirit. Anything that distracts us needs to fall away. We are trying to capture the essence of Christ in our lifes. We are trying to depict Christ in our lives, by our lives. This is what Van Gogh is getting at (well, maybe, but probably not).

The Buddhist painter contemplates the blade of grass in an effort to know the essence of that blade so that when he paints it one brush stroke tells us more about the grass than an entire book on horticulture. He is not trying to mimic the grass, he is trying to depict the grass: huge difference. 

The Christian contemplates the mysteries of Christ. He contemplates so that he becomes that single brush stroke. Our effort is not to mimic Christ, that is only surface, it's fake. We want to depict Him. In our lives we want to breathe the very essence of Christ; "Your will be done..." To do this we have to strip away the fascade and get to Who Christ is, not what we want Him to be or imagine Him to be to satiate our (to copy a new term) "therapudic deism". We want the brush stroke to be so complete in its understanding that in a single stroke is contained the will of God.       

Dawn Patrol

Getting up earlier than I get up for work. Not getting enough breakfast. Not getting enough coffee. Yet, somehow, it still feels like I won.

The dawn patrol is an ancient surfing phenomena where a person will get up way too early in an effort to catch the first wave of the day, with the rising sun. This practice usually results in being damp, smelly, and exhausted for the rest of the day. Also, probably late for work. Strangely enough, though I was late, no one seemed to notice. I don't know if that should bother me or not.

Going on a dawn patrol is part of what makes a surfer. There are many people that surf. Then there are surfers. It isn't about being first or catching the first wave or anything like that. It is more about being present. Surfing early in the morning is like a secret that is shared between you and the waves. While the world is still sleeping, you are surfing.

In the Christian life meditation and the moments of contemplation that come from it are the dawn patrol of the spiritual life. Meditation is waiting on the wave and contemplation is surfing. Mediation is first of all a self-denial; it the denial of the all-important "time" in the Western world. Even worse than wasting time, from an American view meditation commits the ultimate sin; being unproductive. Even more, meditation, if it leads to contemplation, creates a sense of the coming sunrise. It tells us that this is only the very beginning of new day.

I said that surfing in the morning is like a secret shared between you and the waves. Contemplation is a secret shared between you and God. The secret is (are you ready): Here I AM. Was that disappointing? I don't think so. In fact I think the opposite. The secret is that it's not a secret, anymore than it's a secret that there are waves in the morning. So why a secret? Again, like the waves, you have to be present. Everybody knows the waves are there, but they are asleep. If not asleep; busy. We are too busy, too distracted, too productive. We are too busy planning our future that we aren't here for the present. The secret that the Father whispers to His children is only a secret because we aren't listening. We don't have time to listen. No, we won't make time to listen.   

Though the culture may see you as wasting your time, being unproductive, and uselessly denying yourself; you know it's worth it. You know it's worth it because you share the secret; even if only for a moment. No matter what the world thinks, in the end, you know that while they were sleeping you were surfing.