They’ve been reshaping and refining my thought like Maidenform NEVER did to my body! This past year I’ve had the privilege of meeting some phenomenal younger feminists. These twenty and thirty-somethings challenge me to revisit concepts I’ve taken for granted. Read this short and thoughtful post by Brooke Elixe Axtell.
This article originally appeared on the website spirituality.com on September 11, 2001. I wrote as I watched, in real time, the events of that day unfold.
I’m watching New York. Seeing the buildings come down. Listening to the commentators. Dan Rather quotes Edmund R. Morrow: “No one can terrorize a whole nation unless we are his accomplices.”
I refuse to be complicit in a conspiracy of hatred. I refuse to add a shred of fuel to the fire and devastation.
I have recourse to the primordial energy that launched the universe. That’s Love. I can’t afford – for my own safety and for that of my country – to go anywhere else. I cannot allow one thought of blame and recrimination, revenge or retribution to weasel its way into the borders of my thinking. I must fill every crevice with love. It’s the only way I can be effective.
This HUGE negative energy reverberating in crashes and and explosions across the country must be neutralized. Here and now. It cannot be neutralized by more negative energy. So I HAVE to respond with love – and more love – and more love. I have to pour it in. Be that love in action. I desperately need to love. It’s the only way I can be totally safe. It’s the only effective help I can be – here so far removed from the physical scene. It’s got to start here and now. Right in my thinking. This hatred, uncontrolled temper, rabid anger will NOT find a like response in me.
Please, Father-Mother God. Help me do this. It’s not something that’s humanly possible. That kind of love can only come from you. Please, just make me transparent so Your love can shine through.
I continue to watch the news. President Bush just spoke with disdain of a “faceless” coward. Spoke of the need to hunt the attackers down and punish them.
I have to ask from the depths of me – HOW? How do you “punish” someone who has already blown himself to smithereens?
A faceless enemy coming from nowhere is the essence of my worst nightmares. But what do I do if I DO come face to face with the terror – or the terrorist? Do I transform myself into a like image – something even more horrible, fearful and diabolical in order to crush him completely? To do so would hand terror the victory.
Keep me sweet, dear God. Do not let my enemy mold me to his image. The only arms I want are Yours, wrapped around me, around all. I will open these arms of mine, stretching to match my reach to Yours. I know Your power is behind me when I do this.
These quotations from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy, were appended to the article –
28:32
There is too much animal courage in society and not sufficient moral courage. Christians must take up arms against error at home and abroad. They must grapple with sin in themselves and in others, and continue this warfare until they have finished their course. If they keep the faith, they will have the
crown of rejoicing.
322:26-31
The sharp experiences of belief in the supposititious life of matter, as well as our disappointments and ceaseless woes, turn us like tired children to the arms of divine Love. Then we begin to learn Life in divine Science. Without this process of weaning, “Canst thou by searching find out God?”
571:15
At all times and under all circumstances, overcome evil with good. Know thyself, and God will supply the wisdom and the occasion for a victory over evil. Clad in the panoply of Love, human hatred cannot reach you. The cement of a higher humanity will unite all interests in the one divinity.
My friend Chris Raymond put up the Facebook Page you see recommended on this site. It’s called Corazón a Corazón: A Spiritual Defense of Mexico. Here’s a little background.
Chris and I go back a long way. She sat on The Christian Science Committee on Institutional Work in California, a group that was accountable for the actions of over 100 Christian Science chaplains working in jails, prisons, juvenile detention centers and hospitals for the criminally insane. When I was a chaplain in the Orange County jail system, Chris read my monthly reports, just like I read monthly reports from others a few years later when I was appointed to the State Committee. Chris and I have stories. We know that Love in operation (yeah, with a capital L, because I’m talking the divine kind) can make a practical difference on the ugliest of human scenes.
Chris and I worked together once again in the early 2000’s. She was the developer of one of the first websites where people came together and shared on-line in real time, their spiritual inspiration and insights, as well as their challenges and fears. The site went viral on September 11, 2001. The website gained a sharpened sense of focus, and became the gathering place for a myriad of people across a variety of spiritual traditions to find some sense of comfort and meaning in the face of so many fears.
A year later, in the second year of the site’s existence, it won a “Best Online Community” for the Northeast because of its ability to appeal to all kinds of audiences and make a positive difference to individual lives.
And what a community! All the spirituality thought-leaders of the day were hosted for reat-time chats directly with users. There were 24-hour real-time discussions between people asking for help and people willing to help with prayer and comfort. It posted daily articles submitted by prayer warriors around the globe (English, Spanish, German and French) responding to scary current events with metaphysical healing ideas. This got the attention of the mainstream press. Chris was often interviewed by radio stations, magazines, newspapers and NPR.
Understand, the website operated under the aegis of The First Church of Christ, Scientist, otherwise known as the Christian Science Church. Sure, there was definitely an agenda imposed from those we reported to; we were charged with giving full exposure to the words and works of Mary Baker Eddy in our articles and responses, for the sole purpose of helping people, regardless of their faith (or no faith) tradition. That was easy. Mary Baker Eddy was a nineteenth century woman whose life and ideas have gained increasing relevance in the twenty-first century.
The forums on the site were open to absolutely anyone, and most of the contributors were used to talking in universal terms. Conversations were free-wheeling, non-judgmental, affirming and inclusive. In fact it got a little crazy at times. That’s probably what ultimately got to “the suits” – and they turned off the juice. Which is OK! There’s only so much you can do within the confines of a church organization.
So Chris and I both live in Mexico these days. Neither one of us is involved in formal church anymore. We’re far apart distance-wise, but find ourselves drawn together in a common purpose once more. This time it’s by the desire to do something practical about a problem right in our own backyard – the violence occasioned by the drug trade. It’s terrorism and crime – right up our spiritual alley! (Cue the theme music).
Seriously, approaching the tenth anniversary of 9/11, Chris and I have waxed a little nostalgic. We’ve talked about revisiting some of the phenomenal writing and response that went into considering the events of that time. But perhaps a more practical and forward way to go would be to turn our efforts to confront what’s happening in the here and now, right on our doorstep.
So check out Corazón a Corazón. It’s an open Facebook page. That means anyone can post there. Chris and I will be doing it from the background we’ve been trained in, the one that’s worked for us. But we hope you’ll bring your own spiritual perspective to the discussion, link your own blog entries, your sources, your inspiration, your fears, your requests for prayerful attention. The problem on the table is drug violence in Mexico. It effects us all, no matter which side of the border we live on. Let’s talk about it, heart to heart.
This article was originally posted on July 25, 2011, on another blog. I’ve transferred it here because of the subject matter.
Norway! Could one imagine a safer haven than an idyllic island in the middle of a lake nestled in the mountains of a neutral country with a high standard of living? Is no place safe any more?
Before we moved to Mexico, we lived in California’s well-manicured South Orange County. But how often we would read in newspaper accounts of local victims of violence that they had moved from Los Angeles (or Riverside, or Santa Ana, or Anaheim, or wherever) because “South County was supposed to be safer.”
In the early 70’s, it was in a nice North Dallas neighborhood where someone walked into a sprawling ranch home on a sunny October morning and murdered my Aunt Jean. Jean had surprised the intruder when she came into the living room. Things like that weren’t supposed to happen there, either.
But Norway? If this isn’t an in-your-face challenge to the idea that any one place on earth is “safer” than another, what is?
So where can we be sure we’re “safe?” It’s a question I’m asked in one form or another, every time I say “we live in Mexico.” But it should be evident that no particular address is totally secure. Personally, I’ve found that even though Larry and I invest in iron gates, double lock our doors, and encourage our dog in his protective instincts, the most important precautions I can take are strengthening my mental defenses. In other words, where is my thought residing? Let me explain.
I’ve learned that morning meditation, prayer and affirmation are the most important part of my day. I like to do it before I even get out of bed. A spiritual mentor and friend of mine refers to this time as her “spiritual bath.” Sometimes mine is a quick shower; but I find a good long soak always does me good. I also like a nice “tub,” something that holds my thoughts from running all over the place. Often I find journalism’s “five W’s” provide a useful form to work in. It might go something like this:
It can get to be a habit, a good one, this way of thinking, of consciously identifying myself as something more than a mortal, subject to powers beyond my control. It sure beats an alternative and fatal sense of helplessness. I experience practical results when I do this morning practice regularly. I am more empathetic and intuitive. I listen more carefully. I’m more attuned to what’s going on in thought around me – more open to receiving good, more inclined to dispense it. I’m also more alert to danger, have a keener sense of when something is “not right.” I’m safer.
It was a few years after Aunt Jean was killed when Larry and I took a camping trip to Palo Duro Canyon, up in the panhandle of Texas. Through those years I’d learned to really hone my morning practice. Sometimes my “morning” began at midnight, when Larry would leave for his night shift duty with the Air Force. At first I was scared to be alone. The only way I was able to get a sense of peace was to stay close to what I came to call “my identification work,” identifying myself to myself in spiritual terms, and laying claim to my safe place in the Universe.
But this weekend I was not alone; we were together in our VW camper, looking for a secluded spot, far from the crowds. We found it early Saturday morning, spent the day hiking, splashing in the little river nearby, and finally settling in to make our campfire dinner and then snuggle in for a cozy night. We’d finished the dishes, when I turned to Larry and said, “We need to go.” I’d been hesitant to voice my growing sense of unease. It felt urgent to do so now.
“You’re right,” he responded, and with no further discussion we packed up everything and got away. Fast. We felt drawn to park in a large paved, well-lit lot with at least twenty other RV’s that had arrived too late to secure camping spots. Neither Larry nor I slept well that night. In the morning we were ready to leave early. In Monday morning’s paper we read about the murders that took place in the canyon Saturday night. The place described sounded a lot like where we were camped.
I don’t think God picks and chooses who gets murdered and who doesn’t. I do think that what we think, how we think, can determine whether or not the murdering thought finds a target with us or with our loved ones. This is not a “blame the victim” approach. It is an affirmation that each of us has innate intuition, instinct, angels – choose your own vocabulary – which we can’t afford to let lie dormant or be ignored. I’m convinced that regular practice, exercising and learning to use our spiritual capacities, and mental defense, we can all be in a safer place.
Egg tempera by Mary Jane Miller, on display at Generator Gallery, San Miguel de Allende
I’m starting to understand the significance icons have played in helping people deal with evil. Images of cruelty leave me speechless. Words may appeal to my reason, but when sudden horror leaves me awestruck, I need comfort and assurance, something that goes directly to my heart. Call me shallow, but I need a picture.
I saw one today. It was a modern rendering of an old icon. St. George is slaying the dragon. His spear pierces right through the middle of the raging beast, right through his squirmy evil heart.
The painting caught me up short. I’d just been reading a letter from a friend of mine. We’d been talking about what seems like an overwhelming amount of evil in the news today – the massacre in Monterey, the advance of Irene toward the East coast, fresh atrocities in Syria revealed. If there is indeed a battle between good and evil, evil seems to be having a heyday. My friend reminded me of a passage from Mary Baker Eddy’s Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures:
In the Apocalypse, when nearing its doom, this evil increases and becomes the great red dragon, swollen with sin, inflamed with war against spirituality, and ripe for destruction….but this only impelled the idea to rise to the zenith of demonstration, destroying sin, sickness, and death…
Now, I’m very leery of throwing around Biblical prophecy and apocalyptic interpretations. They’ve been used too much in the context of designating a particular person or group as “the anti-Christ,” and justifying who knows what all manner of demonization and prejudice. Yech. “We’re talking metaphor, people,” I want to shout, “not literal seven-headed beasts and burning lakes!”
Metaphors for evil and its destruction abound not only in the Bible, but also in our mythologies and folklore. They seep into our collective consciousness and form a leitmotif that enables humanity to continue. They have one thing in common: good wins. Ultimately, finally, absolutely — good wins. To hold any other ideal would be to fall into darkness without hope. Who would want to go on? Icons can be good reminders. That’s why they’ve adorned places of worship for millennia.
The process, however, of getting from point A (for awestruck) to Z (for zenith) requires courage, persistence, and a dedication to spiritual practice. These are the spears that pierce the dragon’s heart, and quicken our own. Another friend of mine, Dr. Cynthia Miller, has found radical gratitude to be an effective force. Her artwork shows a progression from the destructive images of the nuclear bomb blasts that pervaded her childhood, literally integrating their toxicity into her body, to pain-free radiant beauty. Dragon’s breath transformed to glory. Good wins.
So back to St. George, ancient imagery and modern-day promise. Here’s an image-rich quotation from the same source as above. The author asks,
What if the old dragon should send forth a new flood…? He can neither drown your voice with its roar, nor again sink the world into the deep waters of chaos and old night. In this age the earth will help the woman; the spiritual idea will be understood.
Go get ‘em, George, Cynthia, whoever you dragon-slayers are! You know the outcome. Good wins.
Tuesday mornings I meet for breakfast with a group of women in the small Mexican beach town where I live. We speak in Spanish, and we talk about local news. Recently it was a murder. The victim’s mother-in-law is a friend of ours. She is a local doctor. The women around the table, her friends, were all of the age to be grandmothers. Most of us own our own businesses besides having families. The talk is usually of children and grandchildren, vacation plans, and, always, the economy.
But that morning it was murder. The victim was a doctor, too, a brand new intern beginning the two years of public service that is required of physicians in Mexico before they begin private practice. He had told a man who had been wounded in a shootout and who had been brought in for treatment that he, as a physician in a public clinic, was required to report the incident to the police. He was shot himself in retaliation, ambushed on his way to work the next evening.
“Such hatred!” my friends around the table marveled. “One has to be filled with hatred to kill such a good man. What can you do in the face of such hatred?”
“We have to love more!” The words were out of my mouth before I realized it. There was a quick silence, then agreement. First from one, then from another. “We have to love better, love stronger. Fierce love like an abuelita,” we all agreed. Fierce old-lady grandmother type love – that’s what’s called for. Revenge, retribution, more arms, more guns. They haven’t worked.
I know love works. I spent years as a jail chaplain in southern California, more years mentoring other chaplains, hearing their stories. I’ve seen how love works in the face of hatred and violence. I took notes. It’s time I started sharing some of those stories. Mexico and those of us who live here need to hear them.
Fierce old-lady abuelita love. We need a lot of it. Will you join us? The Facebook page Corazón a Corazón – A Spiritual Defense of Mexico is here on the sidebar, waiting for your support. Send some love and inspiration this direction. I will send you my stories.
