POLITICAL PROTESTS IN WISCONSIN The Way of Compassion - Part 3 of 3

Loving enemies and living non-attachment are spiritual practices. As with physical training, we engage a spiritual practice to develop the underdeveloped parts of ourselves. Since the pattern of the Human Being is newly emerging, it needs to be developed. When viewed in this light, the protests at the Capitol are training opportunities in the art of practical compassion. This training will complement the emergence of the deep humanity in each of us.

Karen Armstrong, in her book, The Spiral Staircase, makes this observation about religion (p293):

The one and only test of a valid religious idea, doctrinal statement, spiritual experience, or devotional practice was that it must lead to practical compassion. If your understanding of the divine made you kinder, more empathetic, and impelled you to express this sympathy in concrete acts of loving-kindness, this was good theology....Compassion was the litmus test for the prophets of Israel, for the rabbis of the Talmud, for Jesus, for Paul, and for Muhammad, not to mention Confucius, Lao-tzu, the Buddha, or the sages of the Upanishads.

I can hear you saying,

“Pfeifer you're nuts. Why are you dragging religion into this discussion. What's going on in Wisconsin and in the budget deliberations in our nation's capitol is political not religious. These confrontations are political battles between conservative Republicans and liberal Democrats.”

And of course, you are correct. But the confrontations that we are experiencing in Wisconsin and which nearly shut down our national government, are caused by a profound polarization between two different belief systems. The combatants in these political wars stand by their positions with more zeal than do most members of religious communities. In a real sense, these confrontations bear a striking resemblance to religious wars of the past, except the weapons of this war are economic, political and legal rather than economic, theological and military.

In this context another quote from Karen Armstrong is relevant. She says (Spiral Staircase, p. 271):

The religious quest is not about discovering “the truth” or “the meaning of life” but about living as intensely as possible here and now. The idea is not to latch onto some superhuman personality or to “get to heaven” but to discover how to be fully human—hence the images of the perfect or enlightened man, or the deified human being.....Men and women have a potential for the divine, and are not complete unless they realize it within themselves.

Karen Armstrong's statement applies equally well to our political confrontations if one substitutes, in the quote above, “achieve a political visionary ideal” for “get to heaven” and “charismatic leader” for “deified human being.”  The restatement would read something like this:

Political engagement is not about discovering “the truth” or “the meaning of life” but about living as intensely as possible here and now. The idea is not to latch onto some superhuman personality or to “achieve a political visionary ideal” but to discover how to be fully human—hence the images of the enlightened person or the charismatic leader......Men and women have a potential for the divine, and are not complete unless they realize it within themselves.

As with religion, we have missed the boat on politics. We have concentrated too much energy on promoting “the truth” of our political positions and on the assumed future advantages of our chosen political world view. We have neglected to ask if the understanding and practice of our political ideology are making us kinder, more empathetic people. We have neglected to ask if these understandings and practices are impelling us to express this sympathy in concrete acts of loving-kindness. In other words: We have failed to consider whether or not people in the USA and in the world are better off because of our political theories (theologies) and actions. When judged by this standard, neither conservative nor liberal politics are manifesting in their most noble form.

This is where the rubber hits the road. This is where spirituality (or religion) and politics coalesce. Political engagement is a spiritual practice. It is a laboratory where we can experiment with activities that actually enhance the lives of people now, not in some idealized future.

This is why the practices of loving enemies and non-attachment are crucial in the political arena. Each one of us has the opportunity to live into our deeper humanity in the social/political situations in which we find ourselves. If we don't live into this potential, we will be less than complete. In this incompleteness, our politics will also be incomplete. They will continue to produce fear and suffering rather than hope and life.

So like the Magi, talmudic scholars, prophets, contemplatives, and mystics through the ages, we need to engage in practices that deepen our practical compassion, compassion that engages not only our friends and the marginalized, but also our enemies.

POLITICAL PROTESTS IN WISCONSIN (Part 2 of 3) - Transformation

Loving our enemies as a way to transformation is a process. So how might such transformation occur?

Walter Wink* argued that a new archetype, pattern or potential is emerging in humankind. He noted that Jesus identified this pattern in his own life when he referred to his actions as the Son of Man or Human Being.** When early Christians named Jesus, the Son of God, they saw this Human Being pattern only in Jesus. They could not recognize it as something evolving in all of humanity. (In psychological terms, Christians projected this potential onto Jesus and couldn't withdraw the projection.)

If Walter Wink is correct and this potential is an evolving potential within each of us, then we are much more than we think we are. (It should be noted that this potential is probably observable in Buddha, Muhammad and leaders of other spiritual traditions as well.) For this reason it is important to experiment with new ways of engaging our enemies. 

Discovering our deep Humanity is not mainly about belief but about practice. It's not about discovering “the truth” or trying to emulate some superhuman figure. It's about each of us living into our particular humanity with as much authenticity as possible. In a real sense, the exploration of ways we can love our enemies aids us in growing into our deeper humanity.

This process of “loving our enemies” and “praying for those who persecute us” is difficult. The old patterns of fear and domination are deeply embedded in our primitive brain, in the fight or flight response. It is “natural” to want to dominate and destroy our enemies. For this reason, we are tempted to turn nonviolent processes into tactics for domination. This means that our attitudes are very important. If the processes described in Part 1 are used merely as clever tactics to defeat our enemies, they will ultimately prove destructive.

If the women in South Africa had stood naked before the bulldozers with sneers on their faces taunting the men driving the bulldozers, they probably would have been killed.

If those participating in the prayer vigils at the Capitol had sung and prayed while whispering among themselves that Governor Walker and the Republican legislators couldn't possibly be people of faith, the vigils would have been tarnished. Such prayer vigils would have been much like the religious observances that the prophet Amos condemned (Amos 5:21) when he quoted Yahweh as saying, “I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.”

Loving enemies is not an emotional response. Rather, it is an act of volition and trust. We decide to treat our enemies as we treat our friends. We honor their positions even if we don't agree with them. We try to understand their hopes and fears. We trust that such living is more in tune with the Cosmos than is the dynamic of domination and fear.

There is a Native American saying: “Walk a mile in another man's moccasins before you criticize him.” When I was director of Madison-area Urban Ministry, we sponsored a number of dialogue sessions on controversial issues like abortion, the death penalty and homosexuality. We met over a meal. Participants were urged to tell personal stories describing how they arrived at their positions on these issues. But they were not allowed to argue the merits of their position. 

As I listened to the stories of people whose views were different from my own; I thought “If I had had that person's life experience, I might hold their view as well.” Most of us left these dialogues holding the same positions we had when we entered. Yet, we left with a deeper understanding and appreciation for those with different positions. These engagements deepened our humanity.

Buddha also had something to say on this matter. He warned against attachment, either positive or negative, because attachment leads to suffering. He advocated “The Middle Path” which means being neutral, upright, and centered. “It means to investigate and penetrate the core of life and all things with an upright, unbiased attitude.... It is concerned with the relationship between thoughts and behavior, and the relationship between behavior and its consequences.”***

The non-attachment that Buddha advocated was not a disinterested detachment. Buddha was intensely concerned about human suffering. He spent the last 45 years of his life sharing his insights. This intense sensitivity to suffering is true for many Buddhists. Joan Chittister tells the story of a Buddhist man who happened upon two other men fighting. He broke up the fight, not because he sided with either man. He broke up the fight because it was too painful for him to see them fighting.

Non-attachment is a non-biased approach to life. In the case of the protests at the Wisconsin State Capitol, a non-biased approach would free us to look at all the possibilities for ending the stalemate in ways that benefit all people. Like loving our enemies, non-attachment provides a fertile ground for third-way alternatives to the present polarities.

When we follow Jesus' advice to love our enemies or engage Buddha's practice of non-attachment, we are more open to out-of-the-box solutions to the impasse. These practices are transformative. They may not transform the enemy, but they certainly will transform those who engage in them. And we all know that a change in the attitude and position of one party in a conflict unalterably changes the dynamics of the conflict. This shift enables the possibility for a transformation in the attitudes and actions of all involved.

If we, who oppose Governor Walker's tactics and his proposed budget for the State of Wisconsin, base our actions on love for him and those who support him, we may initiate processes of transformation that have powerful implications for our state and nation. 

* The Human Being: Jesus and the Enigma of the Son of the Man, by Walter Wink 

** Many scholars note that Jesus never referred to himself as the Son of God but as the Son of Man, more accurately “the Son of the Man” or “Human Being”. These references can be divided into two groups. The references in the first group clearly equate the Son of the Man with the Christ of Christianity. (e.g. John 1:51 “...you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”) Many scholars believe that these passages accrued as the early church developed. The other group of nine passages are more likely close to Jesus' own words. [(Mk 2:10, Mtt 9:6, Lk 5:24) S of M has authority to forgive sins; (Mk 2:28, Mt 12:8, Lk 6:5) S of M is Lord of the Sabbath; (Mtt 11:19, Lk 7:34) S of M came eating and drinking. They said a glutton, drunkard, friend of tax collectors and sinners; (Mtt 12:32, Lk 12:10) Those speaking a word against the S of M will be forgiven; but one who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven; (Mtt 8:20, Lk 9:58) S of M has no place to lay his head; (Mk 8:31, Lk 9:22) S of M must suffer many things; (Mk 9:31) S of M will be delivered into the hands of men; (Mk 10:45, Mtt 20:28) S of M came not to be served but to serve; (Lk 19:10) S of M came to seek and save the lost.] These are the passages that Walter Wink argues are referring not only to the Human Being in Jesus but also to that Human Being potential in all of humanity.

*** “Buddhism, the Middle Path” - (http://www.buddhanet.net/cbp2_f4.htm)

POLITICAL PROTESTS IN WISCONSIN (Part 1 of 3)-Loving Our Enemies

Several weeks ago Jean and I participated in a rally at the Wisconsin State Capitol to protest Governor Scott Walker's budget. This budget would eviscerate unions, damage public schools, and further burden the poor and elderly. Police estimated the crowd at more than 100,000.

Jean and I walked nearly a mile from the first available parking space to the Capitol. Cars were parked everywhere. It reminded me of the atmosphere at a Wisconsin Badger football game. People thronged downtown Madison. They packed the grassy slopes of the Capitol grounds. They filled the streets of the Capitol Square. They walked up and down State Street.

High school and college age youth mixed with senior citizens. Parents with children in tow marched beside union member - police in blue uniforms, fire fighters in raincoats and helmets, union locals sporting colored tee-shirts. Farmers drove their tractors around the square, one pulling a manure spreader sporting a sign that indicated displeasure with the bill.

People in costume added color to the throng. A large panda bear wore a shirt proclaiming “Pandas for Badgers.” A man carried a toaster with a figure of Governor Walker protruding from the bread slot. His sign read, “Walker, you're toast.” A group of older women, The Raging Grannies, wore crazy hats and dresses while singing protest songs. Uncle Sam, his mouth sealed with duck tape, paraded with a skull on his hat. A woman carried a picture of Gov. Walker as a string puppet with the label “Koch Industries Inc.”

Protest signs were everywhere:

“Care about education.”

“Arrest Scott Walker; he's peddling Koch.”

“We are Management, and we vote Labor.”

“Kill the Bill.” “When Injustice becomes law, rebellion becomes duty.”

“I'm a public employee, and I haven't felt this unwanted since I returned from Viet Nam.”

Guvner Scott Woker sayved Whisconsun Tacks paerrs munee, but I mis meye teechr.”

“A tyrant will always find a pretense for his tyranny.”

“Gov. Walker the whole world is watching.”

“This is what democracy looks like.”

“Love is the change. Be the change.”

“Recall Walker.” “

This rally, like the daily protests before and since, was serious and well organized. Yet it was not mean-spirited. Venders sold popcorn, cotton candy, hot dogs and other goodies. There was an air of celebration and politeness. Demonstrators, when prohibited from entering the Capitol, shouted, “Let us in. Please. Let us in. Please.” When police assisted demonstrators they yelled, “Thank you. Thank you.”

Yet all was not sweetness and light. Many view politics as warfare. Commentators on the left and on the right exchange acrimonious charges and countercharges. Wealthy men, motivated by greed, manipulate the political process for their own gain. I confess, I'm tempted to demonize those whom I oppose – Scott Walker, David Koch, Dick Cheney and others.

How is one to live with soul in these difficult and complex times? Jesus said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you because your heavenly parent gives sunlight to the evil and the good and sends rain on the just and unjust too. Be perfect (inclusive) as your heavenly parent is perfect (inclusive).” (Matt. 5:44,48 RSV)

Is this teaching just a spiritualized platitude, or does it have relevance today? Is it possible to live lives so focussed on God's inclusiveness that it affects our attitude toward the whole creation including our enemies?

Put in more contemporary terms, is it possible to be so enamored with the beauty and complexity of the Cosmos that we are able to affirm the statement by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.:

Forces that threaten to negate life must be challenged by courage, which is the power of life to affirm itself in spite of life’s ambiguities. This requires the exercise of a creative will that enables us to hew out a stone of hope from a mountain of despair? (from On Living Life)

Will the state of Wisconsin and our nation fare better if we who resist injustice love our enemies? It is difficult to believe that love will overcome fear and hatred when the powerful, whom we oppose, wish to destroy us. When I was the director of MUM (Madison-area Urban Ministry), our strategy was to block the efforts of those who would dominate us while searching for win-win options that benefited all parties. This is difficult when one is dealing with powerful opponents. Many times the best we could do was to expose their attempts to manipulate us.

Yet nonviolent resistance is a powerful tool in challenging injustice. Theologian, Walter Wink, argues that Jesus preached nonviolent resistance when he said, “If someone takes your coat, offer them your cloak as well.”(Matthew 5:40) This teaching referred to a first century legal practice relating to the poor. If a poor person with no belongings was sued, the person bringing the suit could take their outer garment during the day. It was to be returned at night so the poor person would have a cover. Jesus counseled the poor, when humiliated in this way, to give over their undergarment as well and to leave the court room nude. Since looking on someone's nakedness was a cultural taboo, the oppressed person put the oppressor in the awkward position of violating this taboo.

Wink then gave a specific example of this kind of resistance that occurred during the South African fight against apartheid. When Africaaner forces approached a squatter camp with bull dozers ready to destroy the camp, the women of the camp stood in front of the bull dozers and stripped naked. This so unnerved the men driving the heavy equipment that they fled without destroying the camp. Vulnerability was turned into an advantage.

In Wisconsin, a statewide interfaith coalition of religious groups took Jesus' teaching literally. They held nightly vigils at the capitol, praying for a just resolution to the crisis. Clergy from different faith traditions led these vigils. The prayers put themselves on the line while opening themselves to third way alternatives, alternatives that are less obvious when people are locked in combat using dominating images of power.

Jim Wallis of Sojourners Community called for fasting and prayer to address the injustices being proposed in our national budget. At this writing more than 38,000 people have committed to fast and pray each Monday at noon for a just national budget.

Wouldn't it be amazing if we and our enemies experienced transformation in this process?

A CONVERSATION

The coffee shop was crowded, every table occupied. I clutched my book as I looked around. I just want to sit and read. I ordered my coffee from the woman behind the counter. “Sure is crowded today,” I said. “Yes, we're usually busy in the morning.” I wandered the room, hoping someone would leave; but no one did.

I spotted two guys sitting at a table for six. “Mind if I join you?” I asked. “Sure,” they replied. “I'm Chuck,” I said introducing myself. “I'm Jerry,” one replied.* “I'm Frank,” said the other. They had open Bibles in front of them. I began reading, trying to ignore their conversation. I didn't want to “be saved” this morning.

“What are your reading,” asked Frank. “Just a mystery,” I replied. “Do you attend a church?” Oh no, here it comes. “Yes, I attend a UCC church.” “Do they believe in eternal damnation?” “Well, our congregation focusses more on how we can live following Christ,” I replied, trying to speak in terms that would not cause a confrontation. “We believe that God will bring everyone to himself at the end of the ages and that all sins will be forgiven,” said Jerry.

This is an interesting turn. They're using traditional 'born again' language. But they are including everyone. I've never heard this kind of inclusiveness before. “Then do you believe that even your enemies will go to heaven?” “Yes, Christ is about love; and God loves us all. So we will all go to heaven at the end of the ages.”

“Your talk about love very hopeful,” I said. “Most people seem to be driven by hatred and fear.” “Yes, that's the problem,” said Jerry. “Jesus didn't talk like that.” “It wasn't until Augustine and Constantine that we started talking about unbelievers going to hell. If people really believed that God is a God of love, why would such a God want to punish people?” I was fascinated by our conversation.

Then Jerry dropped a bombshell. “You may not believe it, but I was one bad dude.” “I couldn't even remember how many times I'd been shot at. It was like, 'If you weren't wounded, it didn't count.' I was put in prison for killing a guy. They put me in solitary confinement. I remember sitting in this pitch black cell, cursing God for the way my life had gone.”

“Their were rats and mice in the cell. I even made a pet of one of them. Then one day, I saw an ugly bug. It was a couple of inches long. I reached out to smack it when I heard a voice in my mind saying, 'You're going to kill that bug because it's freer than you are.' This stunned me. That night I dreamed that I was in bed cuddling with my wife. I woke up with the realization that I had put myself into this situation, not God. That's when my life turned around.”

Frank and Jerry had met in a prison chaplaincy program. Frank said, “Although my background is very different from Jerry's, we have become good friends. We are so convinced that God's love makes the difference, that we are sharing this understanding with people wherever we can.”

I couldn't help thinking that Jerry, a white guy, was a biker version of Malcom X. He was incredibly bright and self educated in prison. He knew scriptures as well as church history. He had an amazing memory. Jerry ended our conversation by announcing that he had an appointment to keep.

Frank and I talked a few minutes more. It turned out we had similar backgrounds – college educated, white, middle-class. I told him that he and Jerry had much to contribute. He nodded in agreement as we parted. I thought to myself, These folks are living with soul.

This Easter season many Christians talk about death and resurrection, new birth out of dying. For many, resurrection is a promise of heaven after we die. I think resurrection is more than this. It is occurring right now, moment by moment, as the Jerry and Frank's of the world manifest new life in situations of fear and death.

* I have changed the names in this reflection to preserve anonymity.

Outside the Box

Helen Jaeger died on the evening of July 3^rd, 1999. Her apartment was located on the 23^rd floor of an elderly high rise in St. Paul Minnesota. She wasn't much to look at – five foot four inches tall – squat in build – grey hair - a life-long United Methodist lay person. Yet this physical description hardly does her justice; for she was a woman who lived with Soul.

In the '50's, my wife Jean's mom spoke with youth about the dangers of drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes. She carried her “Johnnie Smoker” into high schools demonstrating how tars from cigarette smoke collect in the lungs. She asked students in her youth group to sign a yearly abstinence pledge. Some of her church friends saw her as a bit strange and a kook.

During the '60's and '70's she joined the anti-war movement. She was one of those “little old ladies in tennis shoes” who marched on the pentagon to protest US involvement in Viet Nam. Although she had only a high school education, she invited university students and college professors into her home to explore their understanding of global politics and spirituality. For these activities she was branded a radical and a subversive.

During the '80's she became involved with meditation movements. She was particularly interested in the writings of Edgar Casey, the psychic and medical clairvoyant. She was fascinated by the possibility that we are reincarnating beings. Once again, her beliefs and actions put her outside the norms of her religious community.

Helen died from congestive heart failure. Yet, two days before her death she sat in her bed and welcomed friends who asked her to pray for them. She saw her dying as a transition into another life experience. Her last words were, “Wow!”

Helen's life was shaped by her spirituality. She didn't fit the definition of a United Methodist church lady. Nor did she fit the norm of a white, middle class homemaker. Helen lived outside the box. She lived with soul.

Siddartha Gautama (Buddha) also lived outside the box. He abandoned his wife and young child as he wandered beyond his father's royal compound on his search for enlightenment. He rejected a life of wealth and power and became an itinerant teacher, the founder of a major spiritual tradition. He lived with soul.

Jesus too lived outside the box. He violated the Sabbath law by working on this holy day. When challenged, he said that the Sabbath was made for humans and not humans for the Sabbath. He taught that the Human Being is lord even of the Sabbath. Yet according to an ancient text of Luke 6:4 (Codex Bezae) he couples this statement with a caution, saying to a man who was working on the Sabbath, “Man, if you know what you are doing, you are blessed; but if you don't know what you are doing, you are cursed and a transgressor of the law.”

Living with Soul - living outside the box - is a risky enterprise. Those who engage their deep humanity live with a kind of freedom and personal authority that may be interpreted as sacrilegious or even immoral. Yet our motivations are extremely important. It is possible to live outside the box in rebellion against the dominant culture or out of personal arrogance. This kind of living lacks Soul and ultimately proves counterproductive and destructive. Soulful living is living that is intimately connected to our deep humanity.

Martin Luther King Jr. put it this way in a sermon at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church on March 29^th, 1959: “There are three groups of people in the world....(the) lawless people...who break laws,...(the) law-abiding people whose standards of conduct come from...the law written on the book, or the customs and mores of society...(and a) third group...who are committed to an inner law, those people who have an interior criteria of conduct...who are obedient to something that the law without could never demand...”

Helen Jaeger was part of this third group of people. She was guided by an inner criteria of conduct. She believed that it was her role to live the way of love, honoring people for who they were, even when they disagreed with her and thought her weird. Our culture needs more people who live with Soul.

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS

It's January 3^rd and the Christmas/New Year holidays have passed. I'm entering the cold months of winter feeling somewhat let down. I didn't accomplished as much as I had hoped I would in 2010. The world feels way too complex and out of control.

Usually, I don't make New Year's resolutions because I feel they lay unrealistic expectations on me. Yet I have an uncanny ability to criticize myself for lack of accomplishments even when the goals to be accomplished are unstated. It's as if I stand outside myself and objectify Chuck Pfeifer as something that needs to be fixed or improved. In this way I demean myself from the outside, never getting to know the Chuck Pfeifer on the inside.

Meanwhile the inner Chuck Pfeifer stands before this judgement uncertain and afraid. Through the years, I have developed a wonderful mechanism for dealing with this fear of internalized judgement. I escape into my head. I theorize about about the effects of the past on my present situation. I analyze social processes, and make lists of things I should do to contribute to the betterment of humankind.

By immersing myself in the midst of all of this activity, I avoid the scary feelings that threaten to undo me. As my self imposed judgements increase, I feel overloaded and despairing. I flee further from my feelings. I engage in compulsive and unproductive behaviors that fail to address the void in myself that I am trying to fill. I become the helper and fixer of myself and others, but from a distance.

It's hard for me to be with people without trying to help them or fix them. It is harder still to be with myself in the midst of my confusion and despair. As a result, I don't really know myself from the inside out. Furthermore, I don't really know and connect deeply with other people.

This new year, I'm trying to risk this scary kind of knowing which comes from being with my feelings. I'm trying to experience those parts of myself of which I'm ashamed as well as those parts which I admire. I'm trying to experience the scary feelings without going into my head. I'm trying to know Chuck Pfeifer from the inside out. If I practice standing in these vulnerable places with myself, perhaps I can relate to others from the inside out as well.

Anthony de Mello says, “You see persons and things not as they are but as you are. If you wish to see them as they are you must attend to your attachments and the fears that your attachments generate. Because when you look at life it is these attachments and fears that will decide what you will notice and what you block out. Whatever you notice then commands your attention. And since your looking has been selective you have an illusory version of the things and people around you. The more you live with this distorted version the more you become convinced that it is the only true picture of the world because your attachments and fears continue to process incoming data in a way that will reinforce your picture.” (from The Way to Love)

I'm beginning to believe that Living With Soul requires facing my fears, attachments and prejudgements honestly and openly. For me this means risking. It means engaging myself and others undefended. It means having the courage to face dying in it's many forms as an entree to living. Perhaps this is my New Year's Resolution for 2011.

CONNECTEDNESS

Jean and I just returned to Madison from an early Christmas celebration in Boston with Rebecca and Dan, our daughter and son-in-law. Son, Timothy, drove up from New York City to be with us as well. Even as I enjoyed the time with our children, I experienced a strange sense of impending loss. I knew that we would soon be apart again because Madison is a long way from Boston and New York City.

During our visit, Dan's dad shared a quote with me from Dietrich Bonhoeffer that helped me understand these feelings. Bonhoeffer said, “God doesn’t fill the gaps, but, on the contrary, he keeps them empty, and so helps us keep alive our communion with each other, even at the expense of pain.”

Bonhoeffer nailed it for me. Even when I was with those I loved, I was aware that soon, we would not be together. We would be separated by the twelve hundred mile gap between our homes. I was also aware that I was separated in time from those who had died – my parents, Jean's parents, a brother, a nephew, a dear friend and many others.

Bonhoeffer's words helped me appreciate this Christmas in a different way. All of our times together are tinged with an aura of empty gaps, of past and future losses. Our times together are transient by their very nature. Even our lives are transient. This year I am less concerned with giving or receiving that perfect gift, even though I love to give and receive gifts. I am less concerned that every interaction be Brady Bunch perfect. I really want to experience each moment as it comes.

I also want to stay connected with those who are no longer living. During my walk this morning I reviewed Christmases past. I smiled as I remembered the year my mother gave me my Lionel train set. My uncle had mounted the tracks on a piece of plywood set up on saw horses in the basement. It was the most wonderful gift I could imagine. I thought of the gatherings with aunts and uncles and cousins where Santa Clause visited our house and brought us presents. I still remember the sound of the reindeer hooves on the roof. I also remember the Christmas we got the call that my mother had had a heart attack while shoveling her sidewalk. We dropped everything and drove the three and a half hours to be with her.

For me, this is all related to living with Soul. It's a deeper kind of living - living with fewer false fronts and pretenses, living into my true essence. There is an honesty in this type of living that allows me to face my limitations and vulnerabilities. This honesty also allows me to accept the faults and foibles of others because I don't want to see their pretenses. I want to know them as they really are.

Bonhoeffer is right. It's painful to live in the unfilled gaps of time and space. He is also right in saying that living with the pain of the gaps helps us keep alive our communion with each other, our connectedness.

I wish you a joyful holiday season as you experience the pain of loss and the joy of connectedness.

Vulnerability

I walked the trail at Holy Wisdom Monastery again today. It had snowed heavily over the weekend so the Oak grove at the top of the hill was nearly monochrome – dark trunks - white forest floor. The day was cloudy and bitter cold. The wind stung my face.

I headed down the hill to Lost Lake. It was frozen over and covered with snow. I walked to the far side of the lake where the body of the raccoon lay. He was barely visible, a white mound on the snow. His little face rested on the ice, looking as if he had pulled a soft white blanket up around his shoulders.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I felt the vulnerability of this little animal. Yet it wasn't the raccoon's vulnerability I was feeling. It was my own vulnerability. I was tempted to scurry away from these scary emotions, back to the safety of my thoughts. “It's just a body.” “It is only a corpse.” “Soon it will decay and return to the earth.” I wanted to depersonalize this event so it wouldn't hurt so much.

Yet, I knew that running from my feelings wouldn't work. If I avoided facing the fear of my own vulnerability, my own mortality, this fear would continue to hold sway over me. So I stayed in the presence of my feelings of sadness and fear. I wrestled with this demon.

I was tempted a second time to flee to a safer space. “I will think of people who are ill.” “I will grieve the suffering inflicted on people through war, calamity and poverty.” Yet this wasn't good enough either. There was grief but no empathy. I realized that I must face my own vulnerability before I could authentically engage the vulnerability of others.

Matthew Fox says, “Grief work is a big part of soul work.” “It helps us accept all our emotions and feelings, including anger and sorrow.” “Everything that is encouraging, no matter how difficult or trying, nourishes the soul.” “For all of us, it's a question of living and being alive.”

I want to be more fully alive. I want to engage soul - my soul and the cosmic soul. Yet, I fear my vulnerable feelings because I have not yet come to terms with my own mortality. It's a strange irony that this little animal, in its dying, has allowed me to take a step in that direction.

Sadness

Yesterday I walked the grounds at Holy Wisdom Monastery. It was cold as I followed a trail through a stand of Oak on top of a small hill. Since we've had no snow, the dark branches of the trees stood out in sharp contrast to the carpet of brown leaves on the ground and the wheat colored grasses of the prairie beyond.

I followed the trail through the trees and down toward Lost Lake. Tall stalks of frozen prairie flowers bordered the lake, standing in mute reminder of their former summer beauty. I noticed the partly frozen lake as I circled it and entered an open space with more wheat colored prairie grass.

The property around Holy Wisdom Monastery is a kind of nature preserve. I have seen wild turkeys running through the trees and even a deer or two. This day I came upon a fluffy raccoon walking on the ice of the partially frozen lake. He seemed not to notice me as he carefully placed one paw in front of the other. His flanks heaved as if he was having trouble breathing. It seemed to take all of his concentration to navigate the ice.

I paused, concerned for his safety, and then moved on.

I thought about that little animal today. Again I was walking the trail. Again it was bitterly cold. Again I descended the hill toward Lost Lake. Even from a distance I could see a dark form on the ice sheet. I approached, fearing what I knew awaited me. There on the ice, near where I had left him yesterday, lay the body of this little creature. He was still fluffy. His head rested on the ice as if he were asleep. His ringed tail stretched out behind him.

My eyes glistened with tears as I honored the life of this little creature.

Ray Charles said, “Soul is like electricity – we don't really know what it is, but it's a force that can light up a room.” Soul is also a force that allows us to grieve for what was and is no more.

Am I more than I think I am?

Welcome to my blog called Living With Soul.

I have spent much of my life seeking to be more than I think I am. When I was younger, I felt I had to excel to be acceptable to myself. As I aged, this drive to be exceptional shifted. I wanted to make the world a better place, particularly for those who were damaged by cultural attitudes and structures. Since I was raised in a religious family, these yearnings were strongly affected by my Lutheran upbringing. I saw myself as striving to please God. My question, “Am I more than I think I am,” was really the question, “What can I do to raise myself from my imperfect state?” “How can I measure up to the heavy demands of God to live like Jesus lived?”

In later years, pleasing God did not fill the bill. In fact, my whole image of God sort of evaporated. Yet the life and teachings of Jesus continued to motivate me. Somehow this man was in touch with a spark of life that I found very attractive. I yearned to live my life with the courage and abandon that I saw in him. I wanted to live out my potential as completely as possible. The question, “Am I more than I think I am,” had changed. It became, “How can I grow into my Charles Pfeifer potential?” I no longer yearned to be like Jesus or Gandhi or Martin Luther King Jr. I wanted grow into the real Charles Pfeifer.

Here is where “living with soul” comes in. Ray Charles, credited with the musical sound we call soul, once said, “Soul is like electricity – we don't really know what it is, but it's a force that can light up a room.” Geoffrey Fisher, Archbishop of Canterbury (1945-61) said, “Until you know that life is interesting – and find it so - you haven't found your soul.”

I want to engage the source of this electricity?  I want to experience life as so interesting that I just have to live it. Looking at it this way, the question, “Am I more than I think I am?” becomes, “Is my potential as a human being more than I had ever imagined?” If this is so, life is not primarily about achieving. Life is about engaging soul.

This is what I want to explore in this blog site. I invite you to join me.