Kindness is Your Easter Miracle

There are many ways to think about the Easter story. It’s less important whether you interpret the events literally or not and more important how you apply the lessons of Easter to your life.

Here’s one way to think of Easter, one among many no doubt.

The time leading up to Easter is a week of introspection, turning inward and reflecting on what is essential to you. You often do this by looking back at where you have come from, and remembering the threads of Life that lead you to this time. It may be more or less than a week of introspection. For some people, winter is a season of introspection. For some, the four weeks leading up to Easter are weeks of introspection.

Good Friday is a choice, after a time of struggle, to leave behind all that is squashing your spirit; that includes drama chasing, self pity and the false delusion of surface things. While introspection can be painful, the choice to put your self limiting beliefs to death is easy because you realize that they are not serving you or making you happier. In fact, when you roll away the stone, there’s nothing there. In the light of awareness, your old beliefs are seen for what they are; that is, just changing ideas with no substance.

Easter is the dawn of a new day. An enormous weight is lifted and you are ready to start afresh by ruthlessly prioritizing what is essential to you. In the Northern Hemisphere, Easter coincides (roughly) with warmer weather and less layers. This, along with the reappearance of colors and new growth, becomes a beautiful metaphor for the new version of you that is ready to shine and be of service to the world.

Here is an Easter exercise to clarify what is essential to you-

Don’t answer the questions. Just read straight through, and you'll get the point.

1. Name the five wealthiest people in the world.

2. Name the last five Heisman trophy winners.

3. Name the last five winners of the Miss America pageant.

4. Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize.

5. Name the last half dozen Academy Award winners for best actor and actress.

6. Name the last decade's worth of World Series winners.

The point is, while these things are significant, they haven’t impacted your life in any essential way.

Here's another quiz.

1. List a few teachers who aided your journey through school.

2. Name three friends who have helped you through a difficult time.

3. Name five people who have taught you something worthwhile.

4. Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated and special.

5. Think of five people you enjoy spending time with

The point here is that the people who make the biggest difference in your life are the ones you connect with personally, often in the most ordinary ways.

The new you, the awakened you, now effortlessly manifests kindness in the world. You make the biggest difference in the lives of others just by being there with and for people. You don’t have to perform miracles or break records. Just be there. You don’t have to rise from the dead. The most important thing you ever do will be to make another person’s life gentler, even in one moment. Your kindness is the greatest Easter miracle.

Rising Above Negativity

There is a Maya Angelou poem called “Still I Rise”. It’s my favorite Easter poem, full of sassy optimism. It rings of a woman who has stared her demons in the face, and said “enough. I choose freedom.” It is dripping with life experience. It’s as if she is saying to her detractors, “I may be disappointing your low expectations, and your self limiting beliefs, but get over it. I’m here and I’m done with fear.”

This poem first struck a chord with me in Easter of 2001. It felt like I had been forced out of my hometown (Sydney) because the church didn’t know what to do with me. It felt like an ending. I was full of bitterness and defeat. Easter 2001 was my first Easter at St Matthew in the City in Auckland. It was the first Easter I stared my own bitterness in the face, like a heavy stone. I made the choice to roll the stone away from my ego’s tomb and create my own future. This was no ending. This was an incredible beginning that eight years later is still beginning. Applying the Easter story as a lesson in personal transformation was the icing on the cake of my own liberation. Still I Rise was my mantra.

Last Sunday, as well as reporting back on my trip to the UK, I began an Easter reflection. I used the image of rising above perceived endings, standing on the mound of your life experiences and using them as a spring board for new possibilities. I have experienced this liberation. You can as well. May you know freedom this Easter; freedom from regret and bitterness. May you rise above endings to gain the vision necessary to greet a new moment. Every perceived letdown is an opportunity in disguise. Every imagined disappointment is a new possibility awaiting your attention. Everything you think you have lost eventually turns up in a different guise. Every ending morphs into a wondrous new beginning.

Make a decision this Easter. Enough with the self inflicted drama and suffering. Enough with trying to live down to other people’s expectations. This Easter, you rise. This Easter, you rise. This Easter, you rise.

Here is the whole Angelou poem for inspiration- even better, watch Maya read it.


Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou

Are You Haunted by Memories of Religion?

As I flew out of the UK yesterday, the head of the Church of England was saying this-

“I believe we are living in a country that is uncomfortably haunted by the memory of religion and doesn’t quite know what to do with it....in a society which is religiously plural and confused and therefore not necessarily hostile.”

Haunted! Confused! Uncomfortable! Not necessarily hostile! These aren’t exactly words that inspire confidence. I’m pleased he is paying attention, but I’m not sure he has accurately captured the mood of England.

My experience in England was of small but passionate, progressive churches. Each one of these churches felt somewhat suppressed and restricted by their respective traditions that are becoming increasingly outmoded and irrelevant. They are frustrated that more people don’t attend, but don’t feel they are encouraged or resourced by their denominations to make the necessary changes to attract people.

On my way to these churches, I drove past scores of people cheering their kids on soccer fields and riding horses, shopping and reveling. None of these people looked haunted or confused at all. I suspect they remember religion like they remember school assemblies; a faint memory of disinterest, but not haunting memories.

The majority of English society has given up on religion. Many have also bypassed progressive religion in preference for a self styled spirituality that includes yoga, meditation, personal transformation, ethical values, a strong ecological commitment and joyful relationships. They are spiritual but not religious. They pile flowers on the site of road accidents because they feel connected to people, living and dead, and the religious differences are irrelevant in the scheme of life.

I arrive back from England, inspired and excited. I am more committed than ever to offering a space for spiritual but not religious people to be accepted for who they are, to reflect on their beliefs, to name their experiences and to connect with other spirit seekers who want to make the world a more peaceful place.

As I transited through Chicago, I realized that it was the five year anniversary of my arrival in America. I reflected on that milestone, recalled the tinge of sadness at leaving the most progressive Anglican Church in the world, and remembered the excitement at arriving to join c3. The vision of SBNR.org is the same vision I sat around the table in 2003 and discussed with the c3 selection committee. The DOW was up 400 points at this stage. The sun was shining in Grand Haven. I was overcome with a sense of excitement and optimism.

I boarded the plane for Grand Rapids, and whose distinctive belly laugh did I hear? Don Hoekstra. He and Patti were arriving back from family in Denver. Don had been instrumental in creating the connection between me and West Michigan back in 2003. He and I spent many hours in 2003 and 2004 talking about the reality of SBNR and the inability of churches to speak meaningfully to this group. In America, as in England (and I suspect many other countries), people have bypassed progressive religion and moved straight into the spiritual but not religious category.

I celebrate this group, and feel the strongest resonance with them. I suspect most of them are satisfied and comfortable with where they are, and not at all haunted by the memory of religion. They are profoundly passionate and committed to a better world. I stand alongside spiritual but not religious people everywhere ready to love the world to pieces, one peace at a time.

Integral Living

I was asked to speak about integral Christianity. The group was a combination of those who have studied integral for years and some who have never heard of it. I know from experience that an initial introduction to integral can easily turn into information overload.

So it seemed best to keep it simple and practical. I don’t generally use integral language. I use integral theory all the time (at least my understanding of it). In my teaching, I try to model integral living. But I’m not yet convinced that it’s helpful to teach integral language.

Was Jesus an integral teacher? Here is my favorite integral Jesus saying- “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind, all your strength and all your soul. Love your neighbor as yourself.”

This is how I translate that saying- Love all that is, with all that you have, by being one with all things. It’s a wonderfully inclusive statement; peace beginning with your self and expanding out to include all things known and not yet known.

So here goes. My top ten uses of integral theory in my own words. Each one could be a full post on its own, but it’s a start.

1. Partial truth. We ALL have partial truth, not more and not less. We all touch part of the elephant.
2. Map is not terrain, menu not the meal. Life is to be experienced. Theories like integral, and religions, offer maps that describe life. But they are not themselves the experience.
3. Transcend and include- As I grow, I move beyond former beliefs and perspectives, but they remain part of me, like lower levels of a building foundation.
4. Translate and transform- I aim to integrate as fully as possible my current perspectives (translate), and also seek more expansive perspectives. (transform)
5. Crisis opens or closes- My perspective changes at the time when it no longer adequately explains my experience.For example a hardship makes me doubt the goodness of God. In the face of these crises, I either open up to new wisdom, or else I close down and get stuck in bitterness.
6. Glimpses- I have moments of insight into deeper states of peace and awareness.
7. Practice- I practice peace and awareness so that I experience it more fully and more often. This practice includes meditation, yoga, mindfulness and fitness.
8. Comprehensive- I seek to live a comprehensive (wholistic) life; where I develop all aspects or intelligences; spiritual, emotional, physical, analytical etc. I try to consider all situations from my own perspective, from the group’s perspective and from the highest perspective I can find.
9. Balance- I seek a balance between my own needs and others needs, equanimity and agitation, where my inner character matches my outer behavior.
10. There’s always more. Where I am now is perfect…for now……but I hold it loosely as the nature of life is change. I am open to growth. I am flexible. I am part of a flow that is greater than me, but includes me in its evolution.

Spiritual Beings on a Human Journey

I’m now into my second week of the UK tour. It’s all going smashingly. I’ve met some great people, seen some incredible places and had some wonderful realizations. I continue to find myself enjoying the beautifully human moments. More and more, the ordinary moments hold the treasure for me.

I’ve always felt this way, but it seems very clear to me now that spirituality is about a full experience of life, all of life. My favorite moments in church have always been the human moments. There were some nice moments in church at St James Piccadilly yesterday. A St Patrick’s Day parade passed by the church (it felt and sounded like it was going right through the church). First it was bagpipes, then a Johnny Cash sound-alike, then a big band, and raucous cheering all the while. The Catholic celebration outside merged with our protestant celebration inside. It was a nice metaphor for the merging of perspectives, traditions and lives. We really aren’t that different; English, Australian, American, Catholic, Protestant, old, young.

This realization came to me as I was speaking to a group of people in England, not that different to groups of people anywhere in the world. At St James, they gather in a motley circle to receive communion. I found this moving, after sharing in my sermon about a former church where people elbowed each other for first sip of the communion wine and prostitutes nodded off while standing at the communion rail.

Then I discovered that Rabbi Rami had spoken at C3 the same morning on spirituality as humanity, even the challenging moments. I shouldnt be surprised by that synchronicity. Rami is a kindred spirit.

There have been memorable human moments with each group I have mixed with, too many to mention here. I have now been from London to the top of England, into “All Creatures Great and Small” country, and across to Leeds. In each group there have been atheists, progressive Christians, Buddhists and people becoming more and more resonant with the phrase ‘Spiritual but not Religious.” One moment from Leeds stays with me. A 93 year old man spoke up right towards the end of the workshop. He had struck me early on as someone who has seen a lot of life, and still smiles in the face of it all. He said he was drawn to nature and then recited a beautiful verse from William Wordsworth’s poem “Daffodils”. I was very moved and it has stayed with me-

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

He captured the essence of living as a spiritual being on a human journey through mystery, nature, beauty, love and humanity.

Treasures in Clay Pigeons

The first half of my UK trip was pure joy. For the first time in my life I shot clay pigeons. It was more fun than a card carrying gun control advocate should ever admit to. For the first time in many years my whole family (minus one cousin) was in the one place at the same time. For the first time in donkey’s years family members were dancing on tables to 80s music, drinking flaming sambuca shots and laughing for no apparent reason.

The shooting instructor kept saying, “Don’t think about it. Just shoot.” He couldn’t have captured the weekend more perfectly. Stop over thinking and live now. As Alan Watts once said, “We usually don’t look. We overlook.” The instructor said, “See it and shoot. Don’t follow it. Shoot now.”

We were in England for the marriage of my brother to an English woman. Cupid’s arrow hit the mark with this match. My brother’s best man was a Kiwi. Every continent was represented as family and friends joined to celebrate love. Just in our family, there were people present from New York, Michigan, England, Hong Kong and Sydney. The setting was perfect. The mood was blissful. The spirit of Rapunzel was abundant, with hair being let down all over the place.

The healing power of fun and joy are tremendous. I was reading a great journal study on the correlation between children who attend “play free” preschools and later criminal activity. I had the page marked to include some statistics in this post, but then Meg dropped the whole journal in the bath. At first I was annoyed, but then I realized that was perfect too. The numbers aren’t essential (although it was something staggering like one third of children who attend “play free” preschools end up involved in crime compared to one tenth of kids who attend “play full” preschools). The point is that fun is essential. I’m sure there are other studies that show the correlation between play and productivity. If there aren’t, someone should prove that point for me. In the meantime, I will stick to my guns, so to speak.

The instructor was right. Every time I SAW the clay and shot, I hit it (with surprised euphoria). Every time I second guessed myself and waited, I missed. There were treasures beneath the shattered clay pigeons.

Paul describes life in 2 Corinthians 4 as being like “treasures in clay jars”. I’m not sure what he meant by that. Maybe it was a warning not to attach to particular identities or roles or experiences because they are like clay; here one minute and blown to smithereens the next. Beneath the clay exterior is the treasure, the unchanging essence. Maybe it’s a reminder to be humble and flexible. Fun is one way to practice humility and flexibility.

Now I head off on a two week tour of progressive and spiritual groups in England. It promises to be stimulating. We will discuss such weighty matters as the economic crisis, the declining interest in organized religion, and the nature of a post modern God. May a sense of fun constantly remind me that while my truths are partial, and my mind easily distracted, my instincts are often right.

In the midst of crisis, humility and flexibility are treasures. Fun reminds me that life is not as serious as I imagine, my theories are not as accurate as I suspect, and my personas are nowhere near as permanent as my ego would have me believe.

Clay pigeons around the world need fear not. When it comes to shooting, I’m as erratic as Dick Cheney. I’m still learning. I over think more than I realize. I over look more than I see. But then again, I did hit more than I expected. I want to experience in every day life the feeling I had when I hit the clay several times in a row; the sense of instinctive flow. I want the treasures beneath the clay pigeons; the humility and intuitive flexibility.

In the words of Leonard Cohen, “Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."

Spiritual But Not Religious

What’s your feeling about mainstream religion? Do you resonate more with the phrase, spiritual but not religious?

I grew up in the church. When kids said, “You live in a church?” I understood their confusion. I lived so near the church that I could hear church mice eating stale communion wafers. My early memories include over-sized bishops falling through dining chairs, adult home groups singing “trust and obey” with off key gusto and Jesus’ sister (from the local psych. hospital) snoring loudly in the front pew through my dad’s sermons. It was all curious to me, curious enough to draw me into its web when I came of age.

Maybe it was because I was so familiar with church that I never fell for religion’s dogmatic lair. I sat through four years of reformed theological education and didn’t get excited about much of it. It wasn’t that I disagreed. I just couldn’t see the point. My desire to run a church was about nurturing the type of raw human community that had intrigued me as a kid, rather than telling people what to believe.

Two decades, three countries, and a bunch of grey hair later, I bear the scars of my idealism. In every place, there are people prepared to bleed for their dogmatic comforts. There was the Benedictine Monk. He was an accountant by day, caped crusader by night, hell bent on removing me from “his” church. There was the threat of heresy charges for not condemning my gay and lesbian friends. There was the letter from a Bishop stating that I remain in good standing in the Anglican world, and his sneered tone as he handed it to me, “this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.”

Then there were the constant reminders that my presence in churches, though offensive to some Christians, meant something positive to the church alumni. These were the people I wanted to be in community with, and I always believed that I could still nurture the type of community that met the needs of this scattered group. The homeless people, the broken people, the creative people, the liberated people, the recovering people, the inquiring people, the family people, those who put their humanity before their ideology; these were my people. I met them in pubs and on university campuses, in gyms and at school picnics. I stood alongside them at protests and bar lines. I just didn’t see them in church.

It was only when I arrived in West Michigan (of all the most unlikely places) that I found a sizeable population of church alumni who were prepared to get organized into a life affirming community. What’s more, they wanted to be part of a broader vision to resource and connect this massive network of people around the world. For the past 5 years I have worked with the most impressive group of human beings I could ever have hoped to encounter. C3 is ready to explode.

I am deeply committed to C3’s health and growth. I depend on this amazing community to feed and sharpen my vision and ideas. I am intimately related to the people and the shared vision. The next step in this evolution is for me to grow wings and fly into open space, knowing that the nest is secure.

The Spiritual but not Religious community is large in number, somewhere between 25 and 40 million just in the United States. Currently, the community is only loosely formed. A new and wonderful spirit is emerging that is passionate and inspiring. It is not bound by ideology or geography, but by a desire to live with integrity, grounded in the power of presence and compassion.

Together we serve the Greater Good, or God, or Wonder or whatever words best describe the beauty that sources our lives. We promote a sense of wonder, and the rapture of being alive. Spirituality is wonder, experienced in the ordinary and extraordinary moments of life.

I am most familiar with Christianity, but that is not an exclusive identity. I am Australian, but that doesn’t prevent me from being a global citizen. I am a parent, but that doesn’t fully define me. Above all else, I am a human being, on a journey of growth and discovery. The label I am most comfortable with, because it includes without compromise all the other roles I play, is inclusive spiritual.

Will you join me? You need give nothing up; neither identity nor tradition. If you like the idea of connecting with the massive number of people who no longer want to be defined by narrow beliefs, but want to have a deeper experience of life, then join the conversation. If you want to make a massive difference in the world, then join the conversation. Together we will love the world with abandon, in an ever widening circle of kindness, until the day when love conquers all hatred and no one and no thing is excluded from love’s tender embrace.