CowPi
 Journal

You will never be alone, you hear so deep
a sound when autumn comes. Yellow
pulls across the hills and thrums,
or in the silence after lightning before it says
its names - and then the clouds’ wide-mouthed
apologies. You were aimed from birth:
you will never be alone. Rain
will come, a gutter filled, an Amazon,
long aisles - you never heard so deep a sound,
moss on rock, and years. You turn your head—
that’s what the silence meant: you’re not alone.
The whole wide world pours down.

— William Stafford

You will walk toward the mirror,
closer and closer, then flow
into the glass. You will disappear
some day like that, being
more real, more true, at the last.

You learn what you are, but slowly,
a baby, a boy, a man,
a self often shattered, and pieces
put together again till the end:
you halt, the glass opens.

A surface, an image, a past.

— William Stafford

The world consists of imaginary people, claiming imaginary virtues and suffering from imaginary happiness. (Vernon Howard [via])

Imaginary people—yes;
Imaginary virtues—yes!!
Imaginary happiness—more or less, until it no longer satisfies.
But is the loneliness, pain, and sorrow imaginary too?
Maybe that’s why we imagine?

When I was younger, late high school and especially in college, I identified with Descartes’ “I think, therefore I am.” It was the motto for the Age of Rationalism. It is still often used in today’s postmodernism.

After finding faith, or rather faith found me, I believe that Descartes had it backwards—I am, therefore I think. My thinking, my thoughts and even emotions and such are part of me. They exist because I exists, not the other way around. You could make a case for that is what the original statements says, but either way, it causes one to over-identify ones being with their thoughts (and emotions). I am more than just my thoughts and emotions. (Perhaps over-identification with thoughts as being makes it easier to justify abortion and euthanisia?)

Today, I stumbled upon the title of book about an Eastern Orthodox archimandrite named Elder Sophrony, written by his grand nephew. The title plays off of Descartes famous saying while transmitting the real truth—I love, therefore I am.

I guess you could replace the word love with life and still mean the same thing, but love is a much more powerful word. It alludes to the very nature and essence of God, Being Itself (see 1 John 4:7-8). Love is the very essence of existence and being. Love is not a part of me; I am part of love. Life is not something I have; I am a part of life.

I love, therefore I am. When God whispers, “To be,” God is saying that your being is love; go and be and do what you are.

It has been well over a year, maybe two, since I started wearing a wearing a small crucifix on a chain around my next. I wanted it close to my heart, so I wore it underneath my shirt.

Sometime after Christmas, I added a St. Benedict’s medal to the chain. (Technically, it is referred to as the Jubilee Medal of 1880 because that is when it was first struck.) It is attached to the same link as the crucifix and lays behind the cross as I wear it. It looks very much like the all-in-one St. Benedict Crucifix but with two separate pieces.

I was drawn to the St. Benedict medal not so much for a devotion to St. Benedict. I deeply respect St. Benedict and the monastic tradition the Spirit started through him. Here in Oklahoma, the spirituality of the Benedictines have a very strong presence. I choose this medal, or it choose me, for the prayer inscribed within the cross. The letters in the cross are the first letters of words in Latin.

Crux Sacra sit mihi lux
Holy Cross be my light

Nunquam draco sit mihi dux
Never the dragon be my lead

The first line is what really captured my attention. The second line is just bonus as with the other inscriptions on the medal (especially the word pax (peace) at the top). In addition, the Latin word sit is the verb “to be”, and it sits (no pun intended) in the very center of the cross. To be in Christ, to be in the Cross, to be—to exist is the gift from God.

C.S.S.M.L. is a signpost for me. I know the signpost is written in Latin, but I never think about the words in Latin, always in English. I am not sure what this says about me. Do I need a signpost in one language pointing to another signpost in my native language to point me where I should follow? Am I going to focus on the signpost, or toward what—or Who—it points?

Clothes readily identify a cleric or a monastic as devoted to Jesus, but what does a a lay person wear? So sometime in the early spring, I decided to start wearing the crucifix and medal outside of my shirt. It was still close to my heart, but I felt the urge to make a statement to all who see me. I am a Christian; the Cross is my light and my lead.

At first I was a little nervous to wear it outside of my clothing. Some of it was due to the fear of what someone might say or think of me. It was not so much as, “Gee, I didn’t know you were a Christian?” It was more of a fear that I may be less approachable as a person, as if I was no longer struggling with temptation and sin like everyone else. Sheesh! If they only knew. The other fear is can I ignore the illusions in my mind, and in the minds of others, of what it means to be “labeled” a Christian and just simply be? I don’t always fit the stereotype for anything. As a priest recently said, “Whatever baby!”

Thank you Saint Benedict for the prayer. Pray for us.

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.

I say more: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Christ—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

— Gerard Manley Hopkins

image of God
born of God’s breath
vessel of divine love
after his likeness
dwelling of God
capacity for the infinite
eternally known
chosen of God
home of Infinite Majesty
abiding in the Son
called from eternity
life in the Lord
temple of the Holy Spirit
branch of Christ
receptacle of the Most High
wellspring of Living Water
heir of the kingdom
the glory of God
abode of the Trinity

God sings this litany
eternally in his Word.

This is who you are.

(from the Abbey of Gethsemani)

You tried so hard to be someone that you forgot who you are
You tried to fill some emptiness ‘til all you had spilled over
Now everything’s so far away that you don’t know where you are

When all that you wanted
And all that you have don’t seem so much
For you to hold on to
For you to belong to

When it’s hard to be yourself, it’s not to be someone else
Still everything’s so far away that you forgot where you are

When all that you wanted
And all that you have don’t seem so much
For you to hold on to

Hold on, hold on, hold on…

When all that you wanted
And all that you had don’t seem so much
For you to hold on to
For you to belong to

— Jet

Hold on—hold on to who you really are. Hold on to Who you belong to. Keep hope alive!

Listening to the song “Epiphany” by Staind on the iPod. The music is loud enough to drown out the background noise. At this line, I drift off…

But I know I’ll do the right thing
If the right thing is revealed

The right thing—what is that? Has it been revealed? Yes, of course, in Jesus! The right thing to do is to love—to love God and to love others with all my heart, mind, body, and strength.

That’s right. <grin>

But how do I love?

By being you. Only you can love like you can. I made you that way.

But it seems like there should be more?

That’s the world talking. What more is there than love?

But what about everything else?

Like what?

Justice, mercy, doing good, being a good person, and being happy. Teaching math, doing laundry, cutting grass, and cleaning house.

That is love.

Huh?

That is love. Love is justice. Love is mercy. Love is being a good person. Love is teaching. Doing work, no matter how menial, is an act of love.

Yeah, but…

All is love. Share it. Reflect it. Do it. Be it.

???

Being who you are is love. Be you. Not someone else. Not some image of who you think you should be. Just be you. Be the you I made you to be.

But who am I?

You are love.

Huh? You’re going in circles…

Don’t worry about it. I’ll take of it. Stop trying so hard.

I feel lost. I feel so lonely, so empty at times.

I know.

It hurts. It aches. I’m afraid to despair.

I know. You won’t. Trust me. I’m with you always.

I don’t know who I am.

Yes, you do. You don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to own it. You know in your heart. Just be. Accept my gift of you to you.

I don’t always like who I am.

You don’t like the you who you think you are. Be the who you are.

But how?

Love.