Super Gratitude

The Super Moon was quite a phenomenon this past week. If you were able to see it for yourself, or if you have seen any of the numerous stunning photos of it, you know why. Last week the moon was closer to Earth than it had been since 1948, and it won’t be that close again until 2034. And while the moon appeared larger than usual it, of course, was not actually larger.  It merely appeared larger to us because it was closer. As we were all focusing our collective attention on this special moment in time, our collective appreciation for the beauty of the moon grew as well. The celebration of Thanksgiving has a similar effect on me.  Throughout the year, I try to always be mindful of people, places, and situations for which I am grateful, and I regularly focus on both feeling and expressing it. But when Thanksgiving comes around and I focus more intently on all that I am grateful for, gratitude appears a little larger than normal in my heart and soul, just as it does in our nation’s collective consciousness.

One of my favorite quotes about gratitude is by William Arthur Ward: ”Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.” This is why I will be quite intentional about expressing my gratitude to my family, friends, and colleagues this next week.

Please allow me a moment to express here, as well, my heartfelt gratitude to each of you who reads this column and who supports the work of the Living Compass Wellness Initiative.  Without you, this work doesn’t happen. I am immeasurably grateful for the collective attention you all give to the importance of nurturing wholeness and wellness in ourselves, our families, and our communities.

As we move toward the celebration of Thanksgiving, our gratitude may not in fact actually be larger, but hopefully our awareness and expression of that gratitude will.  And just like the Super Moon this past week, that will be a beautiful thing.

    After some time off for Thanksgiving, this column will return in two weeks.  

Love Is Greater Than Fear

My wife and I love to spend time in the wilderness, as we love the quiet and spiritual nourishment we receive by being in nature. Several years ago we were canoeing in Quetico Provincial Park in Ontario, Canada, a very remote park that is only accessible by canoe. I remember well an experience we had one stormy day. We had awoken early  and had to make the decision about whether it was safe to spend the day on the water, as a storm was predicted. My wife thought we should stay put where we were on shore. I thought it made sense to take off and try to get to the next lake, which was a mile or so away, before the storm arrived.  After a brief discussion, we decided to take off, hoping for the best. We loaded up the canoe with all our packs and took off across the very large lake we had been camping on. A half hour later we were in the middle of the lake and a strong thunderstorm suddenly arose. We were at least fifteen minutes from the closest shore when I noticed that the storm had come up behind us. In the next few minutes the sky became increasingly dark, the wind was whipping around us, and the temperature was dropping. Soon there was lightening in the distance, and we both knew the last place we wanted to be at that moment was sitting in a canoe in the middle of that large body of water. Needless to say, we were overwhelmed with fear.

So what did we do? We did what any two people would do in such a situation.  We began to argue, right there in the middle of the lake!  The argument started when my wife began to raise her voice over the wind, yelling, "I told you there was a chance of a storm and that we shouldn't have come out here today!" Soon the shouting went back and forth, with me asking and directing, "Why aren't you paddling harder?"  "Don't paddle on the left, paddle on the right!" And then we began to debate about which point of land to head towards.

After a few minutes of futile arguing we agreed to stop talking and focus instead on getting to shore safely. Fortunately, a while later when we were safely on shore, we found our sense of humor and realized that we had not really been mad at each other, but instead the approaching storm had scared us both so much that we had begun to turn against each other. The storm was the "problem" and yet in the midst of our anxiety we had temporarily made each other the "problem."

Whenever a group of people find themselves in the midst of a "storm" the people that make up the groups are vulnerable to turning against one another, rather than turning toward one another to constructively work together to problem solve. There are many serious "storms" that we face as a country and it is easy to be overwhelmed by fear as we work to face them. Perhaps this is one way to understand why  politics in our country have become so negative and polarizing. In the midst of our storms it is easy to turn against one another and to cast blame on the other person, the other party, or anyone we can find to blame for the storm. If we aren't careful we might hear ourselves just as my wife and I did that day on the lake, yelling, "You got us into this mess!"  "We need more paddling on the left!"  "No we don't--we need more paddling on the right!"  "You have us heading in the wrong direction.What are you thinking?!"  "You are the ones responsible for this mess!"

All people are vulnerable to turning against one another in the midst of adversity or hard times because we are afraid. This includes couples, families, organizations, work teams, communities, and people within a nation. At such times we need to remember to take a step back, allowing for a greater perspective. Even when people are feeling strongly divided and frightened, there is, more than likely, more that unites them than that what is  dividing them. It is up to us then to work to find that common ground and find ways to solve the scary problems, no matter what different perspectives we may have.

There is a profound piece of wisdom in the Bible that speaks to the relationship between difference in perspectives and the love and fear they create.

 "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear." 1 John 4:18.

This passage reminds us that love is stronger than fear.  Mature love, well-formed love, banishes fear. The challenge though for all of us is that this truth can work the other way around as well, fear can also banish love.  This is exactly what happened to us in the midst of that thunderstorm in the middle of a large Canadian lake. The storm created fear in both of us, and the fear temporarily overshadowed our love and our ability to work together as a team.

I pray that love will cast out fear in the months and years ahead for our country. I know there are now, and will be times going forward when it may feel like fear is stronger that love, but it is my belief that in the end, love is always stronger than fear, and that in the long run, love always wins.

Thin Places

Celtic Christianity has a term to describe the times and places when we experience an especially strong connection with the spiritual world. It could be a time or place where a person strongly experiences the presence of God, or a time or place where a person experiences the presence of a loved one who has gone on before. The term the Celts use is “thin place” because it describes those times and places when the space between ourselves and the spiritual world, the space between heaven and earth, seems a little closer, a little thinner than usual. This past week, on November 2, many churches celebrated All Souls Day, a day where people remember the lives of those “whom they love, but see no longer.” It is a time to remember and give thanks for the lives of those we have loved and who have had a great influence on who we are today, but are no longer here with us to have and to hold.

In last week’s column I wrote about the “Church of Cubs Baseball." I received more responses to that column than any of the previous almost 400 columns I have written. I had no idea how many other “fellow believers” there were out there, and I had no idea how many other people also experience the connection between spirituality and baseball that I wrote about. I tried to respond to everyone who wrote me as I loved their stories as well, and I apologize if I missed anyone.

As I read the responses a common theme became apparent, as most people who responded wrote about how they had many cherished memories of going to Cubs games throughout the years with a loved one, be it their father, mother, grandfather, grandmother, uncle, aunt, brother, sister, dear friend, or spouse. In most cases, the loved ones being remembered had passed away and so the memories were now laced with both love and a tinge of grief and sadness. Baseball and loved ones were intimately connected.

Ever since the Chicago Cubs miraculously won the World Series late Wednesday evening, multiple stories have emerged of fans remembering loved ones whom they felt were with them in spirit both during the final innings of the game and during the celebrations that followed. One such story is of Wayne Williams, a man who drove 600 miles to an Indiana cemetery to listen to Game 7 on the radio at the grave of his father. He did so to fulfill a promise the two of them made years ago to listen to the Cubs together, if they ever made it to the World Series. Photos have also been shared of the thousands of Cubs fans who came to the corner of Clark and Addison in Chicago all week using chalk to write the names of loved ones who had passed away on the brick walls of Wrigley Field (see the photo above as an example). Online today I saw many photos of graves in Chicago area cemeteries proudly marked with Cubs pennants, staked into the ground next to the headstones of former faithful fans.

The “Church of Baseball” is a reminder that, “thin places” can occur anywhere and at any time-in a place of worship, watching a sunrise, in a sacred friendship, spending time with a loved one, watching a child grow, or even watching a World Series game.

And it is well worth noting that the Chicago Cubs won Game 7 of the World Series on, of all days, All Souls Day, a day dedicated to remembering the love and the bond we still share with those whom “we love but see no longer.”

The Church of Cubs Baseball

In the 1988 movie Bull Durham, Annie Savoy, one of the lead characters (played by Susan Sarandon) refers to the "Church of Baseball" with these  words:      "I believe in the Church of Baseball. I've tried all the major religions, and most of the minor ones. I've worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball... It's a long season and you gotta trust. I've tried 'em all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the Church of Baseball."

For those of us who are Chicago Cubs fans there is a special version of the Church of Baseball, one that has required patience and an enduring sense of hopefulness.  Now as we celebrate the Cubs playing in their first World Series since 1945, we give special thanks for what it means to be a faithful member of the Church of Cubs Baseball with a new hopefulness few of us could even imagine just a few years ago.

I joined this "church" when my wife and I moved to the Chicago area for me to go to seminary in the late 1970's.  We lived there for ten years altogether and I have been a faithful Cubs fan ever since, cheering them on year after year, regardless of their place in the standings. Back then all the  games at Wrigley Field were day games as there were no lights yet and so the games regularly conflicted with my seminary classes. This created an ongoing conflict regarding which "church" I was going to attend on any given day. Its fair to say that my fellow students and I divided our attendance fairly equally during baseball season between seminary classes and the church located at the corner of Addison and Clark, Wrigley Field.

Even if you are not a member of our Chicago Cubs "church" I am happy to share some of the spiritual lessons we die-hards have learned and practiced for decades.

Perseverance and Patience

Most churches teach the importance of perseverance and patience, of believing and keeping the faith, day in and day out, even when the fruits of doing so are not immediately obvious. The Church of Cubs Baseball excels in teaching these lessons. We Cub fans have kept the faith since our last World Series victory of 1908. We keep being patient and believing always that this year will be the year we will finally win the elusive World Series. We believe that one of these years, perhaps even this year, our faithfulness and patience will pay off.

The Importance of Community

All churches (and other faith communities) stress the importance of community. We are stronger together and we can better face the difficulties of life with the support of one another. Comfort those who need comforting and cheer together when there is reason to cheer. How else could we Cub fans have endured all these years?

Honor Your Elders and Those Who Came Before You                                            

Churches also regularly give thanks for the "communion of saints" who have gone before us, for those whom "we love, but see no longer." And so it is for those of us who remember and give thanks for saints such as Ernie Banks, Ron Santo, Jack Brickhouse, and Harry Caray. Countless Cubs fans have sacred memories of going to Wrigley Field with our parents and grandparents, many who have passed away having never seen a winning team, and know they are with them in spirit watching every pitch, particularly now in  this World Series.

Humility

We have had plenty of practice with this spiritual virtue.  It comes naturally for all Cubs fans. In fact, we are really not quite sure how to act in response to our relatively new found success. We, who are used to being "the doormat of the National League," are not used to these winning ways. Over the years you certainly wouldn't find many Cubs fans who were boastful or arrogant, because they simply didn't have much to boast about. Even now most Cub fans are happy and grateful, but not boastful, as they know things can change in a minute and nothing is guaranteed.

So enjoy the World Series, learning all you can from this great sport. And even if it's just for this week, I invite you to join the Church of Cubs Baseball. Come cheer and pray for our Cubbies. Like any other church, we are always open to welcoming new members. If we lose, we will continue our lessons in the practice of humility, patience, and perseverance, and honoring our elders. And if somehow the Chicago Cubs win it all, every one of us we will have the opportunity to witness first hand a core teaching of the Christian faith.

     And the first shall be last, and the last shall be first.

Go Cubs Go!

When Breath Becomes Air

It had been a long time since I read an entire book in one sitting, but that is what happened this past week.  Having read it through all at once, I already want to reread Paul Kalanathi's When Breath Becomes Air -it is that compelling.  The book is a memoir of a young neurosurgeon who is diagnosed with stage four lung cancer.  After many years of facing the possibility of death with his patients, the roles are suddenly reversed as the doctor now becomes the patient, the one who is facing his own mortality. Apparently, I am not the only one who has been touched by this memoir.  The book has been on the New York Times' bestseller list for the past thirty-nine weeks.  Here's how a few others have described Dr. Kalanithi's story.

"It split my head open with its beauty." Cheryl Strayed

"This is one of a handful of books I consider to be a universal donor-I would recommend it to anyone, everyone."  Ann Patchett

"Rattling, heartbreaking, and ultimately beautiful, the too-young Dr. Kalanithi's memoir is proof that the dying are the ones who have the most to teach us about life." Atul Gawande

As readers  find out on page one Dr. Kalanathi dies after a several year battle with his cancer. The book documents his profound emotional and spiritual journey from the time of his diagnosis to the time of his death.  The book is unflinching in its honesty and you will cry tears of sadness and tears of joy as you read it.  While the book does not have a "happy ending" it has a profound ending that leaves us all better prepared to think and talk about death. The author's wife, also a doctor, writes a touching epilogue to the book.   I would highly recommend reading this book and discussing it with others as it has the potential to open up honest and vulnerable conversations about death, that part of life each of us will eventually confront at some time in the future. We, and all of the people we know and love, are all going to die someday, and so the investment of time in reading this book and discussing it with others will greatly enhance your ability to face that reality when it comes.

Because I am not able to truly explain the power of or to improve on the words from the author himself, I close with some excerpts from this beautiful book, When Breath Becomes Air.  If you decide to read this book, or if you already have, I would love to hear your reaction to. (You can share your reaction by simply replying to this email.)

"There a moment, a cusp, when the sum of gathered experience is worn down by the details of living.  We are never so wise as when we live in this moment."

"The physician's duty is not to stave off death or return patients to their old lives, but to take into our arms a patient and family whose lives have disintegrated and work until they can stand back up and face, and make sense of, their own existence."

"Science may provide the most useful way to organize empirical, reproducible data, but its power to do so is predicated on its inability to grasp the most central aspects of human life: hope, fear, love, hate, beauty, envy, honor, weakness striving, suffering, virtue."

"Those burdens are what make medicine holy and wholly impossible: in taking up another's cross, one must sometimes get crushed by the weight."

"Openness to human relationality does not mean revealing grand truths from the apse; it means meeting patients where they are, in the narthex or nave, and bringing them as far as you can."