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Wordle for the Abbot's Blog

December 15, 2010

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Here is a wordle made from the blog. Rather neat!

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The Way of Humility

Proverbs 25:6-7 Luke 14:1, 7-14 In the gospel Jesus tells us a story to demonstrate that the way of humility is the better way. When you are an invited guest, never assume that you are the top guest. Always assume the lowest position. It is then up to others to invite you to the top table. It is a cute little story. The punch line of the story (and it is this that we are to hear, not so much the cuteness of the story) is that “all who exalt themselves will be humbled and all who humble themselves will be exalted.” We are told much the same in the wisdom literature, “don’t push yourself forward or stand with the great, take a lower position and others may invite you forward.” I think we miss the point if we see the story Jesus told and the wisdom passage as a way to get to the top—a kind of strategy, a tactic for getting where you want to get. (And the passages may be taken that way. “If you want to get to the top table. Take a lower position. You are sure to be noticed and invited up.”

Ambiguities save lives!

Recently, we had the joy of spending a few days on a narrowboat on an English canal. Narrowboats chug along full thrust at a gentle four miles an hour. The canals are evocative of an earlier, slower pace of life. Each narrowboat has its own unique name, chosen by its owner to express something important to them. "Just Drifting," "Annie's Dream," "No More Work," that sort of thing. As we drifted along I mused on what I might call a boat if I had one. I came up with a few possible names but returned again and again to one word. I would call my narrowboat "Ambiguity." Occasionally I meet students who "know" everything. On every subject—no exaggeration—they know for sure. Their minds cannot be changed. No presentation of evidence to the contrary shifts them. If later they are proved wrong, they justify why at the time they were still right! Against such unmovable certainty I simply give in and adopt the mantra, "Yes, of course you&

Musing on the fifth dimension

Theologians, philosophers, and scientists have pondered the possibility of a fifth dimension. The first dimension is a line between two points; the second a flat shape; the third a cube (all objects in the world are three dimensional); the fourth time. But a fifth dimension? There lies the speculation. Here's my take on it. The world of spirit is the fifth dimension. It is confined neither to three dimensional space, not to time, but is "above, "around" "beyond" the four dimensions. We might say the fifth dimension is "eternal," different to space and time. In popular religion (in the west at least) when folk think about "after death" they tend to think about "living forever." This thinking entered the zeitgeist most likely because of the wording of the King James Bible that speaks of "everlasting life." The implication is a life that goes on, and on, and on, and on. In other words, still about time, just a very, very

Rage against the dying of the light?

The last couple of weeks have been a bit of an emotional roller-coaster. Jane's 96 year-old mum is nearing the end. We have been more than usually attached to our phones as we wait for texts of news. It's been tough for Jane and her sisters. What makes it hard for Jane and I is that we are half way across the world. But we are all agreed that when mum passes we shall celebrate her long and well-lived life, and not focus on the difficulties of her latter days. Often, death is the elephant in the room. For most of us, most of the time, death (our own, our loved ones) hovers like a specter, just out of vision. Unspoken. Unacknowledged. Unwelcomed. Dylan Thomas gave us food for though in his poem: Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. (Read the whole poem at: http://tinyurl.com/b3esm ) I have always loved the poem. Thomas wrote it about the death of his father. "Fight against dea

In the Borderlands

The season changes again . In the Celtic calendar this week marks the change from Lammas to Samhain, from autumn to winter. The Celtic year does not quite fit life in upstate New York. We experience winter as December, January and February; our coldest months. As I gaze out the window (the pic at the head of this blog), the leaves are falling but many trees are still heavy with gold and red. Even so, Samhain/Halloween is a borderland; an in-between place, neither here nor there. At the border the old is reluctantly left behind; the new embraced—sometimes hesitantly. Yet, the new is enticing, with a hint of danger. Anyone who has crossed a border knows it. People at borders are on edge. Eyes move more quickly. Pockets and bags are checked more frequently. To each side of the border is a borderland. The Holy Island of Lindisfarne is in the borderland between Scotland and England. Over the centuries the border shifted between the two countries. The borders have a special feel. Borderlands

On spirit

Over time we see things differently. Understanding is rarely static. Perception is a process, always in motion. It has been so with my understanding of “spirit.” Spirit is energy. Spirit enlivens and animates all that is. Spirit is breath. Spirit is the love between the lover and the beloved. Spirit is the interface between G*d and the world. I used to think that spirit was the possession of a few—the initiates, the chosen. Exclusivity is common in many religions. The “haves” and the “have nots.” “We have the truth and you have not. We have the scriptures, and you have not. We have the correct rituals, and you have not.” In one of the tellings “We have the spirit, and you have not." This week I have been studying the writings of an old tai chi master, Da Liu, who was one of the first to bring tai chi to the USA. I am challenged by his understanding of “qi,” breath, spirit, the energy that pervades all that is. No exclusivity here. The Jewish prophet Joel spoke of a day when G*d wo

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