The "Miracle" of Letting Go

I have a confession to make. Now please try not to be too shocked, but I have something to confess, which might trouble the most rational amongst you who read this "blogspot". I have to tell you this truth, that I didn’t know I believed in, but I do.

I believe in miracles…

Now don’t get me wrong I am not talking about the kind of miracles that are described in the Gospels , that are said to have taken place at Capernaum, by the Sea of Galilee, possibly the most beautiful place on earth. No, I’m talking about every day miracles that seem to come to life as we struggle and resist and then we surrender and something new emerges,

These thoughts came to me as I struggled with finding a way to begin this piece that you are reading. The hardest part of creating anything is how to begin and how to end. By the way it’s the same in life. The hardest thing is to begin something new, or perhaps, in actual fact, the hardest thing is to end something old.

Which one do you have the most trouble with, beginning something new or ending something old?

There was one thing that I experienced in Israel – Palestine that I’m glad I did, but am not sure that I would like to repeat. Can you guess what it was?

Well it was floating in the Dead Sea, the lowest inland spot on earth. By the way it is something that none of us will probably be unable to do in at some point in the future as it is disappearing.

So, I’m glad I did it, but it was not a very pleasant experience. That said as I have reflected on it, it has revealed something of myself to me.

Now I had a feeling I was not going to enjoy the experience as soon as I discovered I had to wear flip flops, something I do not like doing. Actually I’m not a great lover of beaches full stop. I love walking by the sea and staring out at it, but I do not like beaches very much.

Anyhow we booked into a resort and took the trailer down to the Dead Sea. Everyone else there seemed to be from eastern Europe and were having a wonderful time. I took off my robe and began to walk out into the warm water. It was a windy day and the water was choppy. The ground beneath my feet was rocky. I struggled and stumbled in unfamiliar footwear that began to slide off my feet. I stumbled over a couple of times and cut my foot slightly on the rocks. Not something to do in salty water. I had been careful not to shave that morning as I was warned not to have exposed cuts. So I kept on stumbling and struggling and not at all enjoying the experience and then I found myself up to my waist in warm salty water and I began to lay down, holding onto a post with one hand and one of the flip flops, that had fallen off, in the other. I let go of the post, I let go absolutely and let the salty water support me. Wow! What an amazing experience. There I was floating on the water, being moved around by the tide and the wind. I waved and laughed and just floated. It was lovely, if only for a few minutes. I eventually moved back to the post, struggled to put on the flip flop. I succeeded and then struggled to my feet and stumbled back to shore. I did fall over again, but made it back without too much trouble. I then washed all the salty water away and let Sue have her turn. She had similar struggles, but not with the flip flops.

It was a new and perhaps magical experience, but not one I am desperate to repeat. Now you may ask where was the miracle? Well the miracle was in the fact that I was able to let go, to let the water support me and to experience floating on water. Like so many folk, I do not let go, I do not surrender easily to anything. I’m getting better at it.

I was chatting about this with a friend the other day, about the sweet surrender that comes when we let go. As we talked they mentioned the following poem “The Avowel” by Denise Levertov

“The Avowal” by Denise Levertov

As swimmers dare
to lie face to the sky
and water bears them,
as hawks rest upon air
and air sustains them,
so would I learn to attain
freefall, and float
into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
knowing no effort earns
that all-surrounding grace.

Gosh if only it was that easy. If we could just lean back and let ourselves fall, believing that this love would sustain us. How often in life do we trust anyone or anything, how often do we trust life at all? How often do we feel we have to control everything and everyone just to get by? Do we trust life? Do we trust each other? Do we trust that the Creator Spirits deep embrace will hold us? Rarely I suspect. The miracle comes, I have come to believe, whenever we act in faith, play our own part in life and not try to control everybody else’s.

Now some people tell me that the struggle is a lack of faith. I do not agree at all. In many ways the struggle is the most faithful thing we ever do.

M. Scott Peck famously wrote in his seminal work “The Road Less Travelled” that “Life is difficult. This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths. It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it. Once we truly know that life is difficult-once we truly understand and accept it-then life is no longer difficult. Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters.”

In some ways living faithfully, spiritually alive, is the most difficult thing we do. It is not easy, it is a struggle. Searching for truth is difficult, understanding what we are here to do is difficult, beginning something new is terrifying and letting go of something old even more so. The answers only really come in the struggle as we fight, and wrestle until we finally surrender and often it just comes, from nowhere, as if it were some kind of miracle.

And when the sweet surrender comes, the same conclusion always follows. A voice somewhere in the core of my being gently speaks to me in a voice less than a whisper, but somehow more than silence "Just keep on doing what you are doing Danny, all is well. Just keep on doing what you are doing." It is not a voice I hear but a deep knowing.

Whenever I think of such struggles with ourselves, with one another, with life, with God I think of Jacob and his struggles in Genesis ch 32.

In the passage Jacob is depicted wrestling with a mysterious man, who it turns out is probably God, although is not clear. As he wrestles with this being, he is grievously hurt, but he fights on. As the night ends and dawn breaks the being tries to leave but Jacob holds on and demands it blesses him as the price for ending the struggle. The being relents and blesses Jacob by giving him a new name “Israel” meaning “one who struggles with God” or as I once heard a friend say “one with whom God struggles.”

Don’t we all wrestle and struggle with ourselves, with others, with life, with God, or perhaps its others, life and God who struggles with us? So many times I have struggled to just experience what was on offer to me for fear of trying something new, or letting go of something old. I am not alone, I know.

What about you? Maybe, maybe not? You decide…

Sometimes we try too hard, sometimes we over think things instead of just allow ourselves to go with life. This seems to happen when we are caught up in storms and or troubles, we try to force it. I am certainly guilty of this, but again I know I am not alone.

I have witnessed a wonderful example of the miracles that can occur when we are able to stop fighting against ourselves, especially our own bodies. I have on a couple of occasions observed and spoken with Martin, an elderly member of one of the congregations I serve. Martin has for some time struggled with walking due to the onset of Parkinson’s disease. Well it seems that his family have discovered a new technique that has helped sufferers to improve their gate and thus reduce falling, the technique is simply to listen to music while moving, it seems that the rhythm helps the sufferer to walk. Who knew that ABBA, Martin's favourite, could bring about miracles. From what I have been told the technique stops the individual from focusing too much on their struggle to walk, instead they get caught up in the rhythm of the music and thus can walk more naturally, it sets them free. It reminded me of “King’s Speech” and how in the film the King was able to overcome his stammer by listening to music while he spoke. It also reminded me of being distracted while taking my driving test and how this allowed me to let go of fear and to simply drive the car. Somehow when we relax and just let things go we somehow find ourselves able to do things that over concentration stops us from doing.
Simple, ordinary, everyday miracles. Not the walking on water types, but the simple walking, speaking and driving kind.

Sometimes all you’ve got to do is surrender to the struggle and suddenly you find yourself able to do the things that you thought you could not.

It’s simple, but it sure aint easy.

Now comes the hard bit, how do I end this "blogspot"? Well the truth is I don’t know. How do I end when the journey continues on? So I thought I’d end with a piece on miracles by Walt Whitman. I will leave it with you and let you form your own conclusions. So please lean back and fall into these words.

“Poem of Perfect Miracles.” By Walt Whitman

REALISM is mine, my miracles,
Take all of the rest—take freely—I keep
but my own—I give only of them,
I offer them without end—I offer them to you
wherever your feet can carry you, or your
eyes reach.

Why! who makes much of a miracle?
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward
the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in
the edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love—or sleep in
the bed at night with any one I love,
Or sit at the table at dinner with my mother,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of an
August forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,

Or birds—or the wonderfulness of insects in the
air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sun-down—or of
stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new-
moon in May,
Or whether I go among those I like best, and that
like me best—mechanics, boatmen, farmers,
Or among the savans—or to the soiree—or to
the opera,
Or stand a long while looking at the movements
of machinery,
Or behold children at their sports,
Or the admirable sight of the perfect old man, or
the perfect old woman,
Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to
burial,
Or my own eyes and figure in the glass,
These, with the rest, one and all, are to me
miracles,
The whole referring—yet each distinct and in its
place.

To me, every hour of the light and dark is a
miracle,
Every inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is
spread with the same,

Every cubic foot of the interior swarms with the
same;
Every spear of grass—the frames, limbs, organs,
of men and women, and all that concerns
them,
All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.

To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion
of the waves—the ships, with men in them
—what stranger miracles are there?

God's Work

Whenever we have a committee meeting at either of the congregations I serve, before we begin business, a member always leads us in a short devotion. Now every so often, more often than ought to happen, the person who has agreed to do so forgets. Well last Wednesday it happened again. So what happened? Well they turned to me. After four years I have grown wise to this and for the last few months I have ensured I have brought something with me. Last Wednesday, just before leaving the house, I picked up a book of short reflections “Life Tides” by Elizabeth Tarbox. So when they turned to me, instead of just thinking of a prayer and some words of wisdom, I took the book from my bag and just randomly opened it. It opened on page 8 and piece titled “God’s Work”, interesting title I thought. I then began to share it with the committee. Now before doing so I offered a few words of settlement and invited them to join together and listen in a prayerful state. Most did although one member did continue to shuffle through his papers.

Now the reading seemed to have quite an impact on those at the meeting as several offered comments, including the person who appeared not to be listening but was actually doing so carefully, while shuffling his papers. It was suggested to me that we might explore the ideas contained within it in worship, which I thought was a splendid idea. Here is the reading. I hope it speaks to you, as it spoke to us.

“God’s Work” by Elizabeth Tarbox

What is God’s work? If God is immanent and transcendent, in and out of everything, then how could it be possible not to do God’s work? Surely all work is God’s work – there is nothing which is not of God. Is there?

But that doesn’t do it, somehow. There are times when what I do is strictly for me. God or no God, I’m working for myself, even during those times when God would probably approve. Mostly what I do for myself is compatible with what I believe I would do for God.

But not always. There are times of conflict, when the prompting and urging of my desire are up against the sentinel of my conscience. They square off, these two strong voices somewhere deep in the thick of me where there is no judge, no referee, and mercifully no spectators. “Do it,” say I. “Don’t,” says God. One of them wins and the other goes grumbling away, threatening and complaining in the basement of my being like a boiler with an excess of steam. And I am left to live with my decision, to forgive or applaud, to bask in my nobility or blush in my shame. And God and I make peace once more.

Then there are times when I can’t tell which is God’s voice and which is my own. What about those times when God seems to be saying “Do it” and I am saying “No.” When God says, “This is the right thing to do,” and I, shaking with fear, confess, “I can’t, I’m just too scared.”

“I’ll be with you.”
“How do I know?”
“You can do it, be not afraid.”
“I might fail, make a fool of myself.”
“Yes you might. Do it anyway.”
“But people might not like me.”
“That’s right.”
“But how do I know this is good? How can I be sure?”
“You cannot be sure. This is a risk.”

Yes, those are the toughest times: wanting to do right without losing my safety, not knowing if I am doing God’s work, or using God to do mine. There is no superhighway named Right Way. There are no signposts, no guides, no promises, no guarantees; only the lonely voice of conscience and the cringing cry of fear wrestling each other in inner space. Those are the times of lying awake at night and staring at the detail of the day through a haze of worry, working and reworking the “oughts,” the “should,” and “yes, buts” of the thing.

And what’s to be done, but to listen to the voice that seems to be speaking a consistent truth, move through the fear to trust the moral judgements we have lived by, and pray for courage.”

It is a beautiful and rich piece I hope it inspires you to delve deeper, it certainly has done so with me. It's got me living a few more questions as I have engaged in the creative interchange that Elizabeth has inspired. I hope that the rest of this blogspot has the same impact on you...None of us know exactly what the actions we do, or do not do, will lead to in all the corners of our shared world.

So what is God’s work and how do we know if we are doing it?

Well the first question we might want to explore here is what do we mean by God? It may well mean something different to each and every person. One of the great treasures of the free religious tradition that I serve, the Unitarian faith, is that it celebrates the diversity in religious understanding and expression. When I speak of God here please translate it to that which is of greatest value in your lives, that which is your compass your guide, that which we seek for strength and inspiration, both in times of joy and difficulty and all that lies in-between. Personally I do believe that there is that which permeates all life, that is at the core of all that is and yet is more than all that is, that I can be a part of and that I can seek strength and inspiration from. When I say God I mean that power which is Greater than all and yet present in each, in everything, including all of you and even me. By the way I not only believe this I experience it in every feeling, every thought, every word and every deed, although sometimes my mind will try to deny this.

I believe that each of us carries with us the essence of God and that we can connect with that and therefore truly connect with all that is, all that has ever been and all that will ever be. That great nineteenth century Transcendentalist put it far more beautifully when he said “Let us learn the revelation of all nature and thought; that the Highest dwells within us…there is no bar or wall in the soul where we, the effect, cease, and God, the cause, begins.” Desmond Tutu in more recent times echoed this sentiment when he claimed that “Each of us carries a piece of God’s heart within us.” He believes that we are all children of God and are therefore all one, one human family. He goes further claiming that God’s dream is that everyone reaches out, cares about and laughs with one another’s hearts. And I believe that if we do so we can start to put together the puzzle of life, we can heal ourselves, our families, our communities, our world. I believe this because I too believe that we each carry a piece of God’s heart within us too. So maybe, just maybe, this is infact doing God’s work?

What do you think? Maybe, maybe not? You decide…

Two central themes of two books that have inspired my ministry these last four years have been living with both meaning and compassion. The key to which is to put something or someone else at the core of your life and not to live purely for or from yourself. The key message in both books has been to not live self-centredly. Karen Armstrong made this claim in “12 Steps to a Compassionate Life” and Viktor Frankl made similar claims in “Man’s Search for Meaning.” Bill W in his story in the book Alcoholics Anonymous made similar claims too. He stated "Simple not easy a price had to paid, it meant destruction of self-centeredness." The central message of Alcoholics Anonymous is that the sufferer needed to find a power greater than themselves that they could live by in order to recover from their self and other destructive life. What is also interesting though is that in order to find this power one did not need to search very far, that this something is already within everyone. The only real problem being that we human beings build walls that separate us not only from one another but from our true selves. I suspect that doing God’s work is about putting these pieces together, both within ourselves and our ever more divided and divisive world.

Now of course there are many who claim that actually the very people who claim to be doing God's work are usually the ones creating division in our world, they are the ones doing the breaking not the healing. It is not hard to find evidence for this view. Just turn on the news any day and you will see those reaping destruction while claiming to be doing God's work. Many claim that if we just let go of the God idea, which is seen as stupid, irrational and downright destructive that humanity would be able to live as one. Looking at our world you can see why they would think that. That said any right thinking person can see that division in humanity is not just the domain of religion, it is the domain of those who believe they are always right and that no one can argue with their view of what is right. This is not a position unique to religious thinking. Dogma is another aspect of humanity and I believe it is this that builds those walls between us.

The problem with we human beings is that we forget that we are human beings. We lack humility. It is important to remember that humanity and humility are formed from the same linguistic root, from the earth. Yes we learn more and more, but we still know so little. We certainly have not yet learnt to live in love. We still somehow fail to recognise we are all formed from the same stuff. I believe that humility is vital to the spiritual life as it opens us to our true selves, to one another and to God.

Me I’m with Desmond I believe that “Each of us carries a piece of God’s heart within us.” That we are all children of God, that there is one human family and that doing God’s work is reaching out and doing all that I can for those in need and joining in with the dance of life. Weeping with those in tears and laughing along with each others hearts. I also believe that by doing so we open our hearts fully and that piece of God we carry within us can begin to put our wounded world back together again. That said, maybe I’m just a dreamer, but I don’t think I am the only one.

What do you think? Maybe, maybe not? You decide…

The key, as Elizabeth points out, is in the struggle. The spiritual life is by no means an easy one. Answers are not always easy to find and doing the right thing is not easy. It is, I believe only really unearthed in the struggle. When I think of this struggle my mind always turns toward a passage in Genesis ( ch32 vv 22 – 32)

Here is the passage:

22 The same night he got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. 23He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. 24Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. 25When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. 26Then he said, ‘Let me go, for the day is breaking.’ But Jacob said, ‘I will not let you go, unless you bless me.’27So he said to him, ‘What is your name?’ And he said, ‘Jacob.’ 28Then the man* said, ‘You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel,* for you have striven with God and with humans,* and have prevailed.’ 29Then Jacob asked him, ‘Please tell me your name.’ But he said, ‘Why is it that you ask my name?’ And there he blessed him. 30So Jacob called the place Peniel,* saying, ‘For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.’ 31The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip. 32Therefore to this day the Israelites do not eat the thigh muscle that is on the hip socket, because he struck Jacob on the hip socket at the thigh muscle.

At first glance this looks like a strange passage, but there is deep meaning half hidden within it. Jacob is depicted wrestling with a mysterious man, who it turns out is probably God, although is not clear.As he wrestles with this being he is grievously hurt, but he fights on. As the night ends and dawn breaks the being tries to leave but Jacob holds on and demands it blesses him as the price for ending the struggle. The being relents and blesses Jacob by giving him a new name “Israel” meaning “one who struggles with God” or as I once heard a friend say “one with whom God struggles.”

I see this as a mythos depicting the spiritual struggle. I think it is a timeless and universal depiction of what Elizabeth is describing in her piece.

Is it we who struggle with God, or is it God who struggles with us?

What do you think? Maybe, maybe not? You decide…

This brought some other thoughts to my heart and mind, if we are a piece of the heart of God then surely it is our task to be the eyes, the ears and the hands of the holy in this world. Surely God’s work is to bind up the broken to rebind the world back together. Re-member, re-bind together that Religion, from “religiere”, means to rebind together that which has been broken apart. Each of us is a precious piece of the puzzle, while at the same time we are bound up together in the one web of life. Once we truly recognise this all our actions begin to take on real purpose and meaning, for we recognise that everything matters, Every thought, every feeling, every word and every deed, everything matters. I have learnt that if we truly believe this it allows us to truly engage with life, to struggle with what we can and cannot do and to join in the wrestling match that is life.

Now these are just my thoughts, each person must decide what God’s work is for them. Be careful of those who claim to know what that is for everyone else. We each have to engage with this ourselves.

That said increasingly I see that we are each a vital part of the puzzle. I have also discovered that in order to unearth the answers we need to engage in two ways, one private and the other corporate. One requires personal and private spiritual practise and the other requires each of us to engage with one another. The two combined bring about true religious living.

What is required is time alone to connect to that greater reality deep down within each of us, we need look no further you know. We just need to spend time in quietness so we can feel that still small voice.

I promise that everyone can hear the "language of the heart", if we listen with the “ears of our hearts” and then of course come together and share what we have uncovered, oh and then do what needs to be done. By bringing our pieces together we can can begin to create that beautiful picture puzzle.

Whatever we believe is the source of that voice is not the most important thing. What matters to me is that we learn to trust in and allow it to give us the courage to do what our world needs us to do. This to me again is God’s work.

This is what needs to be done. As Elizabeth said we need to learn to listen to that voice that has consistently spoken a truth, to move through the fear that we may get things wrong from time to time and to pray for the courage to do what is required.

“Each of us carries a piece of God’s heart within us.” We are all children of God, we are part of the one human family. Doing God’s work is reaching out and doing all that we can. Our ever more divided and dividing world certainly needs it. It is up to us to put the pieces back together, to bind up the broken, our people, our world…

What do you think? Maybe, maybe not? You decide…

I'm going to end this little blog with a final piece of wisdom by Penny Quest

“Each New Morning” by Penny Quest

Each new morning two choices are open to every one of us:
The choice to live that day in the joyfulness of Love,
Or in the darkness of Fear.

Each new day, as the sun rises,
We have another opportunity to make that choice.
The symbolism of the sunrise is the removal of shadow
And the return of Light.

Each new morning we have another chance
To rid ourselves of the burdens, sorrows and fears of the past,
To rejoice in the joy of the present,
And to look forward to a future of fulfilment
On every level of our being.

Each sunrise is a fresh opportunity to release fear,
To choose a different life-path,
To commit ourselves to joyful, light living,
To trust in ourselves and in the Universe,
To trust in the forces of Nature and in Mother Earth,
To trust God, the Creator, the all-That-Is.

Amen