Dude, Gimme A Beat

Inspired by Brother, Give Us A Word

[dude-gimme-a-beat]

Companion

If we are to have Jesus our friend, we must know Him to be continually near. The companionship of Jesus! It is a strange how many there are who look forward to being with Him in another world, but never think of living fellowship with him here.

Richard Meux Benson, SSJE (1824-1915)

Billie Holiday - We'll Be Together Again.

[Song selection and reflection by Peter L]

My theory is that we live within material limitations until we develop the capacity to see beyond them. I suspect that we have to become a bit tired of the world for that to happen. The allure of possibility - and the longing for it - grow heavy with loss and disillusionment. The more you lose, the more experienced you become with letting go. Letting go, the dimension returns - vaguely recollected from childhood, perhaps - of an all-encompassing inner Light. To me, it is embodied in what we know of Jesus. Fellowship with Him is simply to partake of it.

Last night I had 2 dreams. In one I'm at a new school. I don’t know anybody. The world seems distant and indifferent. In the second dream, I'm alone at night in the house in which I grew up. I hear a commotion in the cellar and a group of rather ghostly old people emerge through the cellar door. A woman says to me, "We are the wise ones." She hands me an artifact carved out of precious stone.

I had the dreams because I needed them. My family and I are gathered around my father as he searches for the way to leave this world. The contrast between the dreams was stunning. The first woke me in a surge of anxiety. The second broke through my foreboding with the calm assurance of something eternal. I think it's by such experiences - where we're pushed to the edge - that we catch a glimpse of what truly supports us - by contrast to all those matters that seem so crucial until they don't.

Billie Holiday's last album is called - appropriately - "Last Recording." In it, she seems to be saying goodbye. This song - "We'll Be Together Again" - conveys the sense that the love that passed between two lovers will carry them through the pain of parting.

No tears, no fears,/ Remember there always tomorrow./ Parting is not goodbye./ We'll be together again.

There's  a great line that captures the pain.

Times when I know you'll be lonely,/ Times when I know you'll be sad,/ Don't let temptation surround you./ Don't let the blues make you bad.

She seems to be talking to everyone she’s leaving behind - all of us who love her music.

Lent approaches, the great meditation on death and rebirth begins. I wish you all a happy Easter...

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Forgive

If there’s something unforgiven or seemingly unforgivable in your past, you need to get over this. And you may need some help. But you’re worth it. You’re not going to be able to love your neighbor any better than you love yourself.

Br. Curtis Almquist

Full sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/category/sermon/?p=569

Charles Mingus - Goodbye Pork Pie Hat

[Reflection and song selection by Peter L]

Holding a grudge is a kind of hell. A pit of anger, hurt and attachment. I think it comes from the fear that we have no other recourse. It's kill or be killed. This force that we summon to protect ourselves from others, also divides us from ourselves. How much more alone is it possible to feel? Maybe it's what we mean when we pray to the Lord, "Save me from myself..."

I've mentioned my father before. There was a time when he seemed very far away to me. I couldn't get a sense for why he did anything except for dutifulness. I mean did he like me? Or get me? These are questions that pierce to the core of a child. And, I think, for the lack of an answer, I built up a wall around me. It was only in crisis that I returned to him. It wasn't easy for either of us. For me it had to do with the fact that he stood by me. For him, I think it was just that I gave him a chance. How was I to know that by bonding with my father, I would unearth something of my own substance?

Now he's old. Ancient, really. Beyond time, in a way. I sit with him in the hospital, and think about how much of myself I would never have known, had I not found my way back to him. I help him fold his bed-sheet into a small rectangle which we place carefully beside him on the bed. I wonder if he's hot or if he's just trying to get organized. "That's what I want!" he exclaims, as if to answer my question. I think, "Me too."

“Goodbye Pork Pie Hat” is an elegy for Lester Young, written by Charles Mingus. It’s deeply haunted by this most sensitive artist, who endured trouble with the army - including a dishonorable discharge and a year in jail - and, eventually, an emotional breakdown. It also gets at the unique feeling in Young’s playing, a break-through style that arose out of pure gentleness. It influenced “Cool Jazz,” Miles Davis, Dexter Gordon, Gerry Mulligan, Stan Getz, Chet Baker and many others. As such, this song penetrates the deepest meaning of forgiveness, that finds the value of life behind the worst troubles.

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Life 

Jesus doesn’t show any interest in people’s spiritual lives. Jesus is interested in people’s lives. Their whole lives: body, mind, and spirit. It’s all one. It’s all meant to be one. Br. Curtis Almquist

Full sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/category/sermon/?p=438

Ella Fitzgerald - Body and Soul

[Song selection and reflection by Peter L]

Br Curtis has a way of getting at the unspoken thing. The hard thing. How do we combine matter and spirit in one body? It's easier to veer between attachment and transcendence, forgetting the one while wallowing in the other. We're used to division. It's how we keep things organized, in a world that excludes a lot of what we are. What would it feel like for all of existence - dark and light - to resound through us? Like we were loved?

For me, it's not a problem until catastrophe strikes. My earthy instincts - that understand the transformative movement of existence - can tend to elude me.

By what capacity do we come to accept ourselves as a whole? We all make distinctions - between what succeeds and what fails, the beautiful and the ugly. Only God loves all of us and understands the way things fit together. Let Him be our guide, bringing Light to the dimension of the soul that has withered away.

Ella Fitzgerald was pure musical feeling. Billie Holiday may have penetrated deeper into the soul, but Ella had a very tangible vulnerability. It's powerful, almost naked in this rendition of "Body and Soul," recorded live in Japan in 1953. I think it captures a longing for wholeness, body and soul.

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Grow We often think of God as changeless. But in Jesus we see a quality of the divine being that is indeed changing: a living God, growing, exploring, experimenting, reaching, striving, absorbing, renewing. God's own being is in some profound way living, breathing, growing. -Br. Mark Brown Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2008/02/02/feast-of-presentation/ Bobby McFerrin - Circlesong 7 The idea of change in relation God is interesting to meditate upon. Does God change, or is it us who change through new perspectives and new understandings? And what is the source of that growth? What is the evolution of the message of Yahweh from the time of Moses to the time of Christ? I have never considered the perspective that this meditation presents, the human Jesus experiencing the inevitable growth and changes of a human life. And a living God would seemingly follow the pattern of other living things? I like the phrasing of "a quality of the Divine", as it seems to further invite consideration of this, albeit with a sort of inherent safeguard through the use of "quality", which to my ears buffers the impulse to re- invent God endlessly to suit a given time or moment. Yet change does occur, if only because our perspectives change as we grow. It all brings me to the fullness of God, the completeness that God offers within a life which is lived in an effort to be in synch with the Divine. No matter if we fall down, for it is through the effort, through the seeking where we are grown and transformed. And Bobby McFerrin's masterpiece, the Circlesongs album is one of my favorite musical expressions of fullness. Awash in layers of voices, no other instruments, the songs build layer on layer, each voice finding its special place, each new layer stunning. There is a unique continuity the songs create which I find akin to the fullness of God. New layers dazzle in their newness, yet somehow at the same time, feel as if they have always been present, even if un-heard, somehow it is as if they were nevertheless lurking somewhere, buffering from afar until the time came for full entry. God's wisdom and joy and even corrections often the feel the same to me, new, yet somehow always present.

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Acceptance It’s natural to have some anxiety about our own brokenness, our sense of incompleteness, our wanting to be other than what we are already. And it’s natural to be vexed over the perceived brokenness and incompleteness of others. But, as Fr. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin says, accept the anxiety of incompleteness. -Br. Mark Brown Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2012/02/19/marbles-and-omelets-br-mark-brown/ Mississippi John Hurt - Worried Blues This is a meditation I need to read about 700 times every single day before I even get out of bed. That is how damaging the propensity to worry is to myself and those I love. Critically, the meditation speaks not only to our own brokenness, but also that of others as well. As this is something I am very focused on lately, this is a timely meditation and as I often do, I turn to the reassuring voice and gentle yet busy picking of Mississippi John Hurt to wrap myself in his soothing tone. Somehow he never fails to assure me and help me gain perspective. Ultimately, I think the issue at the root here is control. Even benevolent control is a trap for us. My desire to see someone I love make better decisions may be well-intended, but how easily it becomes distorted, causing anger and frustration in layers. And the same is true in relation to myself. So many days wasted because I wound myself up into some dizzying spiral of failure and fear, I defeat myself far more brutally than any foe ever could. Accepting the brokenness as an inevitable reality transforms the whole dynamic. Accepting the worry and recognizing that the desire to be in control is illusory, alters the landscape and opens it up, and the invitation becomes clear. It is the invitation to transform, to grow. The meditation is far from passive, it is, I think a way to understand the rhythms of life.

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Ministry What is most important to St. Paul is not his status or reputation or accomplishments or even the preservation of his own life. He desires only to “finish the course” God has set before him and to be faithful in the ministry which God has given him. In his own words, he is “to testify to the good news of God’s grace.”

Br. David Vryhof

http://ssje.org/ssje/2012/05/23/the-good-news-of-gods-grace-br-david-vryhof/

Al Green - Belle

[Song selection and reflection by Peter L]

Looking back on my life, I see a pattern. Struggling with world, experiencing success and failure, a sense of reality arises out of what works and what doesn't. In many ways, we are broken by the world. We stumble and fall until a deeper realization develops. The best part of us - our sympathies, compassion, intuition, our longing for wholeness - turns to something that is barely discernible at first  - the inner Light and the forms of illumination that mediate life. The hand of God.

I've never been to A.A., but at a particularly troubled time in my life, I did attend group therapy. At first, it seemed like a kind of hell to me - this room full of broken souls mirroring my own. But a building process began. Reactivity and defensiveness gave way to something beyond the will. Trust. Let go, let God. The experience led me to the conclusion that spiritual transformation and recovery are the same thing.

We all have a 'road to Damascus' in us because it is inherent. The Light is inherent in matter. And I think that once we begin to experience this Saving Grace, we are inspired to offer it to others. Ministry. How do we bring Light into the world? That is the question, and the answer lies at the heart of creativity - the art in living.

Reverend Al Green's change of heart is well-known. Just as he was reaching the height of fame, a woman with whom he was involved killed herself. In his autobiography, Take Me To The River, he marks the incident as the turning point that led him to become an ordained minister. I remember so well the first time I heard his music. It was at my friend Joe’s house. He played me two albums, one by Green and the other by The Velvet Underground. I couldn’t decide which seemed more unusual, subtle and radically unlike anything I heard before. This song, “Belle,” doesn’t come from one of his gospel albums, but God is, nonetheless, at the center of it: 

Belle, the Lord and I've been friends for a mighty long time

Belle, leaving Him has never ever really crossed my mind

Let me say this one thing, I'd never go so far

'Cause it's Him no matter who you are

Belle, oh, it's you I want but it's Him that I need…

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Offering

In making this self-offering we do not lose our selves. In this commingling of economies, in this marriage of the quantifiable with the incalculable, we gain ourselves, we are restored to larger life, again. Having commingled with the infinite on this altar, even in our brokenness and weakness, we are transformed, restored.

-Br. Mark Brown

Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2012/11/11/holy-smoke-br-mark-brown/#more-5994

Ohio Penitentiary 511 Jazz Ensemble - Psych City (1971)

Although life is full of potential, and seems to unfold on a massive plane, the reality is that for most people, it requires a tremendous amount of risk, effort and help to live a life which is not framed by external forces. I think for,most people, life is lived in a much smaller space than mere possibility may seem to offer. I felt an incredibly strong pull to music as I was growing up. From a place of loneliness and despair, music seemed an idealized world, a place where I might meet people I could relate to and also, those mysterious, captivating effects that music would sometimes have on me, the clear physical and spiritual impact I felt, those too were responses I had to explore further. By teaching myself, I had certain limitations, yet I think there were also unique doors of perception available to me as a result of those limitations. In order to play with someone, I had to become an exquisite listener. There was no other way I could play. Coming to play music in this un-schooled manner taught me such an important lesson as well, and this meditation captures it, that being that every time I play music, it is an offering. I am always vulnerable when I play because I have nothing else to stand on except my engaged presence in that moment. Every song, every moment has to be fully alive and I have to be fully present. If not, nothing would happen….usually literally, nothing would happen. Those doors seemingly borne out of limitation in fact contained such a wealth of wisdom and inspiration, I will spend a lifetime exploring the dimensions of those pathways. And from there, I have recognized that there is such a pathway for everyone. Every person has some unique place where their being is awake and at its best; a place where there is no fear or insecurity, where the wounds that may cripple every other aspect of life simply are not a factor. Jesus offers us redemption and for me, redemption is the ultimate storyline of Christianity. It is the ultimate message of hope. There is still time, there is still opportunity to shed a wounded skin and find hope. Always…..though I hesitate to say that, because I know I have been in places where such promise seems like foolishness, a lie, even. But it seems something brings me back to that hope again and again. U.S. Prisons are filled with countless people who do not belong there, and similarly, there are also a huge number of people who should be in some setting where they are forced to make some reparation for their damage to society, yet they are not. Whatever the circumstances of how these musicians found themselves to be members of this prison band matters not a bit to me. The ferocious groove they capture does matter to me, though, as I believe it emanates from that altar referenced in the meditation, an altar of pain and vulnerability. Prayers from such altars do re-make us, though they may not change our circumstances. It is crucial that we not only offer prayers from this altar ourselves, but that we listen to the prayers of others from this same altar. For perhaps what we are deaf to elsewhere, may be heard in the prayers of authenticity this altar offers. And if the little bit of information I could find on this album is true, the story of this record is a perfect example of that important idea of hearing the prayers of others. The record seems to be made by a band comprised of prisoners as well as members of the Ohio State University band. The story is that the OSU band heard the prison band during a visit to perform at the penitentiary and were so impressed with the band, they helped find an investor for the recording and helped make it happen. It is not clear to me if they also perform as well. But there it is - those students heard fellow musicians, they spoke a common language, the students recognized the talent and helped in creating opportunity. If only the world’s ears were always so open and expansive! A final note, one of the performers is Logan Rollins, the nephew of jazz great Sonny Rollins.

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Why would you follow me? I'm following you because you post such inspirational and enlightening topics...I do not post anything...

Thank you for the kind words. As far as following you, I generally follow people back who follow this blog unless it is advertising, even if they don't post anything. Sometimes people do start posting stuff too, though often not, so for that reason, as well as a courtesy, I guess.

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Vision

To really see, to really hear, to really touch or taste or smell, requires a degree of attentiveness which is often difficult to attain.

-Br. David Vryhof

Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2013/09/17/seeing-with-mystic-vision-br-david-vryhof/

Pharoah Sanders - The Night Has A Thousand Eyes

My sense is that the night once was fertile soil for the human imagination and probably for the soul as well. Like the ocean, the night posed a clear demarcation, a vast world of mystery, where new rules applied. Unusual animals lurked, sounds from unseen sources bellowed, perhaps enemies encroached, skies were filled with an array of rotating luminous bodies. All these factors probably made people think, enforced a natural rhythm of reflection, where perhaps fears exploded into sensational terrors yet maybe also too, a creative engagement with the mystery also happened. Maybe from that place of fear and clearly defined limit, people were more likely to understand their limits, and cultivate a bond through prayer as they instinctively sought to navigate a world which contained such unknowns. The night would also know humans intimately, as probably everyone has a facade of some sort which is released when no one seems to be watching. And so, night knew us even as we knew not the night. I think such a dynamic is lost in our illuminated nights and our ceaseless days today. Erasing the mysteries of life, removing the grandeur of the natural world by explaining it all away has left the collective human experience exhausted, deprived of natural rhythms and spontaneity. The world of knowledge is relentless. Whereas once our thoughts, even if from a place of fear, explored creative stories and faiths to make sense of the unknown, now such mental space is cluttered with useless gossip. It has always been difficult to attain the vision of awareness of which this meditation speaks. My sense is it is harder in the modern age. The weight of distractions as well as the less obvious need to explain mysteries is gone. This is a reason why I cherish Pharoah Sanders. His music has such an ancient quality to it. And somehow it conveys lessons to me, and enforces an immediate physical response, one of calmness and attentiveness. When I hear Pharoah’s distinctive tone, I cannot help but be compelled by it. Whatever else was in my head evaporates and the music takes precedence and takes me to a place within my being where I can tap into the awe and wonder of this life, which then has the effect of opening my being to the world and from there, empathy and understanding emerges. Pharoah is like my own monastic bell…..when I hear him, I know it is time for prayer.

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Purpose Jesus’ question, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” is a challenge to systems that say that blood, family, nationality, ethnicity, race, sex, sexual orientation or even religion somehow settle important questions about life and purpose. -Br. Robert L'Esperance Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2012/01/24/what-is-family-anyway-br-robert-lesperance/ Gang Starr - Conspiracy Jesus is a source of constant revolution. It seems inevitable that complacency, boundaries and rot in some form inevitably seep into human systems and structures. This seems to be demonstrated throughout history in societies, in governments and in religious institutions, among others. So I would say the message of Jesus is timeless, for at the very least, we need that call to integrity as a check up, but more likely, heeding the call calls us to repair where neglect or corrosion or some warping is taking place. To heed the call of Jesus, one must be humble, for inherent in heeding this call is the acknowledgement that one is not perfect and has some mending somewhere to do, some growing, some restoration, something to learn. In this song, GURU lays out a number of irrefutable truths along with some his own impressions from his lived experience. What never ceases to amaze me is how quickly and eagerly people tend to try to refute someone else's lived experience. So often, before the speaker has even finished, the onslaught of contradiction is gushing. As I think about it, it seems like most of the time, someone is not trying to prove someone else wrong, but point out that they have misunderstood. And I guess that is the issue. We are all unique individuals. And then we start going from there.....a unique individual, somewhat defined by a variety of other things, each supposedly ties us to another group, while at the same time separating us from others. Without humility, listening is not possible. And so, dialog becomes a one way flow. No one feels understood. Like the vocal flow of this song, relaxed and calm, rather weary in fact, bolstered by the added crackle of a vinyl album spinning, Gang Starr sets the table for calmness, perhaps in hopes that setting such a vibe will open ears. My experience has shown me again and again I have learned more and grown more by resisting my impulse to immediately speak and instead, listen. After all, listening is probably the most important aspect of prayer. It is probably the most important aspect of conversation, too. Hearing someone genuinely makes it harder to condemn and easier to understand and be compassionate. And it also grants us the invitation to grow, if we have the courage to accept it.

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Emmanuel What sets us apart as Christians is that we believe with Peter that Jesus is not simply an itinerant preacher and miracle worker or even a prophet but that he is “Emmanuel” – “God with us." We believe that in Jesus we see the image of the invisible God, the one who makes real and present for us the mystery and person of the Father.

Br. James Koester

http://ssje.org/ssje/category/sermon/?p=934

Daniel Barenboim, West-Eastern Divan Orchestra - Beethoven’s 9th, 3rd movement

[Song selection and reflection by Peter L]

I feel it more and more - the nature of God. Her clarity and wholeness. The truth of God that you can perceive in things... and in yourself... sometimes… The world is so loud, so urgent! Tending to crowd us out… How little room it leaves for the Divine Light. For me, Jesus Christ is an image of the possibility of letting the Light in. He embodies the process by which we come to know the divine. He died in matter and was reborn in Spirit, just as we are every day…

The 3rd movement of Beethoven's 9th Symphony harmonizes its diverse elements - melodic, harmonic, rhythmic and instrumental - into an achingly tender yet dynamic whole. “God with us.” We hear it played by The West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, which brings together musicians from all the countries of the Middle East. Founded and conducted by Daniel Barenboim. 

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Aspirations You see, all the people we love in our lives, God loves them, too. In fact, God loved them before we ever did, and God will always love them more than we ever could at our very best. -Br. Robert L'Esperance Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2014/12/28/love-came-down-at-christmas-br-robert-lesperance/#more-10423 Afel Bocoum - Yarabitala For years now, one of my best friends has confronted me with a question which has confounded me. At times when I have been besieged by worry over money or feeling frustrated with certain things related to my goddaughter, my friend would ask me "are you God?!". I never understood her question in relation to what was bothering me. But recently, after months of meditating on some very specific matters, I read this sermon, and her question finally made sense to me, and hit me like a ton of bricks. It was through prayer, through the thoughtful preaching of the SSJE brothers, through the loving support of family and friends, and through the varied languages of music that I feel like I have arrived at a point of acceptance and peace with this matter. It is not fully resolved. But it likely never will be. Unlike books or films or television, life goes on beyond the closing scene and the credits. But for now, I have come to a place of peace, which allows me to stop distorting my being and overheating with worry and frustration. Part of the matter is loving someone who may not always want to be loved. But ultimately to offer my best, I have to learn to accept what I cannot do, my limitations, and trust that God is not absent nor neglectful. Only by having that peace can my best be truly my best. The gorgeous sounds of Afel Bocoum have also been helpful to me. The warmth of the sound, and the patient buoyancy of the music has both soothed me and warmed me during the biting cold of January. And his words have also helped illuminate me. For it is not only others who may distort me or obstruct me, it is perhaps even more often, my own self doing the damage, causing the obstruction. From his reflections on each song in the liner notes to the album, he had this to say about this song, "Yarabitala"; "continue along this path and may God help you. The path is long and people will try in every way to divert you from your noble aspirations."

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Poverty The anawim are God’s poor, those who know they cannot help themselves and are completely dependent on the mercy of God. There is a special place in the heart of God for the anawim. They are blessed because they know their poverty, the limits of what they can do for themselves; because they know their need, and that their only hope is to put their complete trust in God. -Br. David Vryhof Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2012/01/10/hannahs-prayer-br-david-vryhof/#more-3093 Funkadelic - Free Your Mind.... This was the first sermon I ever heard delivered in the SSJE chapel. I had been visiting the chapel for years, but always alone, during the day, to pray and just simply sit in the stillness of the small yet lush interior. It was a Tuesday evening service, starting at 5:30pm in early January. I was stunned by two things when I opened the door. First, I had only seen the chapel lit by candles previously, so the spectacular brightness was rather shocking to me. Even more startling was the number of people present - the place was packed! I cried through the entire sermon. I did my best to bite my lip, but the tears flowed. Br. David's gentle voice, teaching on the somewhat obscure lesson of Hannah from the Old Testament hit me powerfully. There are passages throughout it which are so powerful, but the above meditation feels quite apt for me at this point on the curve. I recognize it is easy to criticize this sort of Christian teaching as a way to keep the oppressed passive and pliable to external wickedness. There are times when I myself buy into that interpretation. But I believe what Br. David is teaching through the story of Hannah is that God can be our refuge in this world. God may not always deliver us from suffering. But if we seek God's comfort and direction, we may find something else amidst the suffering. This may be of small comfort if we are seeking material deliverance or measurable fairness in this life. But if we are seeking to make sense of our lives amidst an unjust world, or strength to endure, especially if others are relying on us to do so, I think this message delivers us to a new and helpful perspective. I am at a point right now where I seek both material relief and spiritual renewal. The spiritual renewal is ultimately more important. I can go further with God and with a revived spirit. The people who depend on me can be loved more and cared for better if I find that spiritual fountain. So though God allows me to see the limitations of this, in the end, I choose to depend on God. I must in order to carry on and find the fortification I need for the journey. And that is how I have always understood this legendary track from Funkadelic. It starts from a simmering cauldron of sounds, we then begin to come to a sonic awakening, naming the confusion, naming the pain, mixing a cacophony of different vocals and assorted slices of instruments shooting in and out. I think the song calls for us to free our minds as the beginning of the release from spiritual bondage. Our asses can be understood to be the physical world, both our own bodies and impulses, desires and vanities, as well as the earthly life in general; the human systems in which we live out our earthly lives, flawed and corrupt as they may be, which fall into proper place and perspective only upon our souls being properly aligned; by finding the groove. For me, that happens when I align with God. Sometimes good times take me there. Sometimes pain and suffering takes me there. It must happen again and again throughout a lifetime.

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Beloved Like Jesus, we too truly are and always have been, the beloved of God. When we know this, light radiates from our faces. We are shown to be God’s friends, God’s beloved, God’s daughters and sons with whom God is well pleased.

Br. James Koester

http://ssje.org/ssje/category/sermon/?p=2482

John Coltrane - Psalm

[Song selection and reflection by Peter L]

My understanding of my relationship with God has changed over time. When I was young, it was kind of ethereal. The Holy Spirit showed me something about selflessness, and I tried to live accordingly. It was an inspiring discovery that seemed to capture a transcendent truth. But then, as I struggled with the world, I began to reach for an earthier kind of spirituality. I realized how ungrounded I was and how estranged my emotional root was both from the world and from God. How unloved. I would pray to the Spirit to send its Light there.

Carl Jung thought that Nietzsche was speaking of the sky god when he declared God to be dead. Jung thought we must turn downward. I have been surprised to find how earthy the Christian liturgy can be. It takes me back to a time before the Christian era and even before belief, when man lived in a mystery with existence from which he was inseparable. And the more I've uncovered in myself this child of God and nature, the more dissociated I realize he is, from the material and rationalistic solutions society tends to feature - how forlorn and useless he feels. Call him the soul. 

If man arises out of God, then does it not make sense that our deepest, most animal instincts do too? They too are beloved by God. So how do I restore my soul to its natural inheritance? That is the meaning of spiritual healing, which is the thing Jesus spent his time doing.

John Coltrane knew the soul. He seems to have discovered it in his playing. There is a preternatural quality in his music. “Psalm,” is the fourth part of his great composition, A Love Supreme. He called it a “musical narration.” It intones a poem Coltrane wrote - and printed in the liner notes - but the saxophone takes the place of a voice. And it captures the earthiness of the Psalms, burrowing ever deeper into a sacred space - the heart of existence - where God lives. Towards the end, the poem reads: 

God breathes through us so completely...so gently we hardly feel it... yet, it is our everything…

…just as Coltrane breathed his soul into his music.

With McCoy Tyner, piano, Jimmy Garrison, bass and Elvin Jones, drums.

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Hurt Our lifelong journeys following the way of Jesus, seeking God… well, it is probably going to hurt. -Br. Nicholas Bartoli Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2014/10/09/seek-and-you-shall-find-and-be-disturbed-br-nicholas-bartoli/#more-10196 The Ethiopians - Joy Joy Joy I love this meditation. But the hurt is growing pains, the sweetest of agonies. And what better balm than the sweet assurance of Leonard Dillon's voice in this ebullient gem from The Ethiopians?

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Thresh

At the heart of the prophecy we find God’s promise of help, and a challenge; “I shall make of you a threshing sledge”. He did not say, “I shall send you a threshing sledge”. He said, “I shall make you a threshing sledge.”

-Br. David Allen

Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2014/12/11/the-threshing-sledge-br-david-allen/#more-10363

Horace Silver - Song for My Father

Br. David is one of the senior monks of the SSJE community. As such, he is close to the age my father was when he died, though my father actually older still had a handful of years on him. My father was 53 years old when I was born and had already led an exhausting life. His father died when he was 6, he was quite poor, worked from about the age of 6 until he was 70, retired to meticulously care for my mother, who by then had fully succumbed to Alzheimer’s a Disease. He spent almost 4 years at war. The age gap and the staggering changes to the world and the culture in his lifetime left a distance between us in some ways, but it also imbued within me a very deep echo of time. In this sermon, Br. David covers a lot with brevity. He speaks of his own father. And as this was delivered during Advent, it also focused my prayers on Joseph, the father of Jesus. I turn to Joseph because of my love and concern for the child I am raising, who, though not of my own flesh, is nevertheless my beloved focus in life. The challenges we face are many, as with Joseph, as with my own father. It can be overwhelming at times. That is why I find this meditation to be so stirring and so inspiring. Br. David takes care to explain what a threshing machine is, as I really did not know specifically enough to truly savor the power behind the words. He explains, “The threshing sledge is also an allegory. A heavy wooden plank, 2 or 3 feet by 5 or 6 feet, with sharp spikes on the bottom, when oxen pulled it over a grain field the grain was separated from stalks and weeds.” The notion that through God, we may become such a force as this both relieves me of a certain weight while also reassuring me of just how equipped I may be, if I allow for my own limitations, while accepting this power through God. This agricultural metaphor comes with that understanding that there will be grand harvests and thin ones, that weather and other elements beyond my control are at play, but that through my uniting with God and my beloveds, we will sustain and carry on regardless of the adversity. Some may drop along the way, but we honor them by forging onward. I tremble at the metaphor, at all my father gave to so many, and at my love for this child. I tremble as I see her grow and surprise me. And I tremble in dance at the slithery virtuosity of Horace Silver and his band as they dazzle during the height of their Blue Note era of funky jazz, as they dig and unearth the rich fertile soil of their respective personal histories, united into one universal groove.

[dude-gimme-a-beat]

Wilderness

We are all the same in the wilderness: fragile, weak, defenseless. The first thing we encounter in the wilderness is ourselves, and we don’t always like what we find –

-Br. John Braught Full Sermon: http://ssje.org/ssje/2014/12/07/found-in-the-wilderness-br-john-braught/#more-10348

Average White Band - Pick Up the Pieces

Several years ago my mind was blown by an elderly preacher for whom I was gaining a new respect as I listened to his sermons. I expected to have little harmony with him, but I was hearing the same sort of wisdom and honesty in his sermons that I heard in the music which inspires me. When he was asked about how to deal with someone suffering with a particular struggle, his reply stunned me. “Pray for that person to be broken”, was his reply. No one wants to hear that kind of truth. But everyone needs to face it at one time or another in their life. The need to break may not always come via misery. If one is lucky enough, it is intuitively understood, as new phases of life close or dawn. The sick bed has been often the vehicle which takes me to the wilderness. Usually I know I need to go, but I am too much of a coward to bring myself. It takes the weakness and helplessness of illness to transport me, to silence the distractions I use to shield me to get me to the wilderness; the place of stillness and silence where I have no choice but ooze the goo and shed the skin. On New Year’s Eve, I was in such a place. At one point as I lifted my aching body to once again blow my nose, to once more scrape at the raw, dry red skin, I noticed my legs. I felt so vulnerable. A weak, sick-in-body and sick-in-soul man, weary and dejected, alternately hot and cold in a mangy t-shirt and boxer shorts, I saw in my legs the legs of my father. But they were my father’s legs when he was like 90, not the majestic, towering and powerful legs which held him strong through a long and difficult life. There was no escaping my state and I was not tempted to try. My legs have been the last aspect of me physically which seemed strong, which pushed me hundreds of miles on my bike when I was younger. Their force climbed mountains in Canada and Vermont, and got me to traverse 150 miles in a day. As a man they are my mode of transport still, walking miles every day. And they were the one part of me which actually seemed attractive. And here as I blew my nose and wheezed labored breaths, they seemed to be leaving me prematurely, like a boxer whose “legs were shot”, my head and heart had not yet come to recognize the reality. The kid in the studio next to mine was playing a Springsteen concert from the mid-70’s and that curious eternal echo in Springsteen’s voice seemed so apt somehow for the night, for the moment. Just then, I accepted my place in the wilderness and my need to be there. I was and am eager to shed the skin which has worn thin. I prayed that I would be redressed again from the wilderness in an armor befitting wherever I must go next along life’s path. And I surrendered to the truth that I cannot outfit myself, I am not strong enough to even know where I am going, let alone carry the weight myself. It is time to once again pick up the pieces. It is time to heal. And this stubborn illness is really taking its time in leaving me, and I am in fact grateful for that, because I need to be held back. It is not yet time to leave this wilderness. For it is not merely my body which needs healing. It is my mind and my soul as well. As much as I yearn to attain that balance which the Average White Band attains here, that transcendent boil when the funky axis is established and the flourishes of the horns blossom like Spring, I cannot handle that yet.