2014-07-31





When I began my journey into Christianity, I went in with as much naivete as you can imagine a 19 year old young woman could. As a result, I was easily convinced of the dogmatic style of authority that many Christians claim is God. Why did I fall in love with such a tyrant of a deity? Was it because I was used to dating guys that played the same mind games? Was it because I lacked a nurturing father figure in my life? Was it because I already had a very skewed idea of what love is? Probably all of this. I had fully embraced religion as it was presented to me and all I wanted was to be a good girl and please God with my life. As a result, I jumped through every hoop the preacher set up in front of me. Has religion distracted us from this human experience? In hindsight, I remember when I was called to the garden.



Isn’t that what the hymn teaches us?

“I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses, and the voice I hear falling on my ear…”

Perhaps we spend too much time in buildings made of stone than in gardens made by the Creator.

Two years ago, I returned to the garden to become acquainted with the voice that comes softly and tenderly through the morning air. I have been reminded of the times when I heard that voice as a child, in the back yard garden, while fishing in a creek while camping, and on the shore of the beaches. There’s something mystical and nostalgic about waking up in the midst of nature and observing the life all around me while I walk through the forest. That morning mist in the air and dew dropping from the pine needles onto my face. Sinking my bare feet into the cool sand while the sea mist settles on my skin.

Our human greed for money, power, and position thrusts us into the rat race and we forget the very beauty of our existence. We run so fast that we can barely be seen and become blind to the spiritual energy the earth offers us. We’re so wrapped up in schedules, activities, and entertainment that we miss the intimacy of human connection. We’re all connected and yet we fail to see it, feel it, touch it. We’re losing the serendipitous splendor that we’re meant to enjoy.

Spirituality can bring us closer together, but religious schemes drive us further apart. Religious rules and schedules seem to organize the community together, but we miss the deeper and more profound experience of being human in togetherness. We judge each other in comparisons instead of loving each other as we were created. We box up what we think is acceptable and dismiss what is unique.

I’ve experienced a lot of grief in my life and witnessed others travel through incredibly difficult times like death, divorce, and abuse. In times like these, we turn toward the comfort of a loved one. We seek to embrace and to be embraced.

Why do we wait for trauma to connect this way?

Perhaps life can be met each day with such embraces. What if we started each day and ended each day with touch? What would happen if we practiced this intimate connection every day instead of waiting for trauma to bring us together? What would we see in the world if we greeted each other with a hug every time we saw each other? What ripples would be sent out if we hugged that mom at the store while her kids threw tempter tantrums instead of judging her as we walked by? What miracles would manifest if we hugged that lonely old woman sitting on the bus stop bench instead of ignoring her as we race by to get to our next appointment?

What would we see differently in this life if we spent more time in the very present awareness of this creation instead of chasing schedules and activities organized by the houses of religion?

What good is there in organized activities if we miss the entire point of getting together? Have we exchanged our human experience for the thrill of entertainment? We attend soccer and baseball games to cheer on our kids, but we miss the depth of forming relationships with the other parents. We show up for church service to be preached at then go home to catch the football game and miss the soulful connections of the members of our congregations. We’re moving so fast and yet we’re becoming isolated in the midst of the population.

Each morning I step outside to have my morning coffee, I see lady bugs embracing the leaves of my roses, bees drinking from the dew on the petals, and dragonflies sitting still in the cool air. They’re connected. They fly to travel from place to place, but they always stop to reconnect to life. Their legs mingle in the pollen and disperse that life giving substance everywhere they land.

Are we mingling our lives in the life giving substance and sharing it with others around us?

Are we truly connecting each day?

Are we sending ripples of love throughout our families and communities?

Or have we become so accustomed to the rigid schedules that we’re robbed of our human experience?

Are we sabotaging ourselves?

Have we spent so much time arguing over behavior modification and doctrinal patterns of dysfunction that our audience doesn’t know what we’re FOR, because they know so much about what we’re against? Is this human experience meant to cultivate a primal hunger for war?

While religious leaders slam their gavel down on their desks about what they’re against, the Spirit gently whispers for us. We’re silently beckoned to join in an intimacy that is found in the stillness. We’re such loud mouths that we miss the soft spoken tone of the Spirit that invites us to live.

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