The Passage of Separation

In our Easter Passages series we’re companioning the disciples through the time between the death of Jesus and Pentecost where they will receive the power of the Holy Spirit and move forward again as the new leaders of the Jesus movement. What changes might be occurring spiritually during this time to prepare the disciples? And how does this passage relate to our own lives? We started this journey with Jesus’ injunction to wait, then talked about developing awareness of the things that hide our True Selves, our souls. Today we’re exploring the Passage of Separation.

Sue Monk Kidd, in her own spiritual journey, came to the understanding that the period of waiting has three distinct phases: separation, transformation and emergence. She likened it to the process of a caterpillar changing into a chrysalis (separation from the old self), the changes that happen within that chrysalis (transformation) and the butterfly breaking out (emergence). But unlike the one-time event of the caterpillar becoming a butterfly, our spiritual journeys take us through this process over and over again in a spiral of separation, transformation and emergence, each loop bringing us closer and closer to our true Selves, our wholeness, our divine center.

Last Sunday we found the disciples on the shore of Lake Tiberias eating fish with the resurrected Jesus. Right after they eat, he calls to Peter using Peter’s given name, Simon ben-John (or Simon son of John… apparently even back then you knew it was serious if someone in authority used your entire given name). Jesus turns to Peter and asks three times, “Do you love me.” Yes, of course, Peter answers. Three times Jesus tells him to feed and tend Jesus’ sheep. And then Jesus says something sort of cryptic.

The truth of the matter is, when you were young, you put on your own belt and walked where you liked; but when you get old, you will stretch out your hands and someone else will put a belt around you and take you where you don’t want to go. ~ John 21:18

Scripture says, this was supposed to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would die for God. But I think it says much more than that.

To me, this passage speaks of the spiritual journey which involves coming to awareness of who we are and letting go of our old selves in different ways. Remember when you were young you couldn’t wait to grow up and do what you wanted when you wanted? And then you found out that it doesn’t quite work that way. Adulting isn’t nearly as free and fun as we thought.

The spiritual journey is the same thing. Becoming more spiritual isn’t a process of spiritualizing everything away (our bodies, our responsibilities, our concerns). It is a process of growing up, of recognizing that we need to let go of our ego and the layers and baggage we carry because we are one with, and have a responsibility to others, to the earth, to our community. Our True Selves call us not to distance ourselves from everything, but to use our gifts and talents in serving the common good.

For Peter, his spiritual growing up moment had come. He was being given the opportunity to see that his true identity wasn’t as a fisherman. His true identity, should he have the courage, love and faith to accept it, was as one who still follows the spiritual path. And, for him, that meant being a leader in the movement to spread Jesus’ teachings. He has been called by God to do more, and it may not end well, but this is who you are, Peter, one who feeds and tends Jesus’ sheep.

Yet, even Peter is reluctant, uncertain, maybe even a little afraid. He looks around, sees “the disciple whom Jesus loved” and asks Jesus what about him? Jesus basically says, what I want him to do has nothing to do with you, let it go, stop hedging and follow.

The passage of separation will look a little bit different for each of us. But the essential process is the same. We begin with the awareness that we talked about last week – awareness of layers, masks and shells – and recognize that we’re called to release those little by little to become more authentically our True Selves. Nope, it isn’t easy and so we often look for excuses, reasons not to let go. It is a state of clinging, that in butterfly language is called the diapause.

Interestingly enough, not all caterpillars succumb to the call to become a chrysalis at the same rate. Some of them even cling to their larval state for a long time, postponing entering the cocoon until the following spring. The diapause is a form of dormancy where their growth and development are halted for a time.

Have you ever found yourself clinging to something you knew you needed to let go of? Even if you knew that clinging would halt your growth and development as a person and spiritual being? Sometimes we cling to unhealthy jobs, relationships, beliefs, and behaviors long after we should have let them go. Sometimes we hang onto anger, fear, guilt, grief even though they don’t serve our highest good.  We cling to old baggage, false masks, and ways of identifying ourselves, too.

I get it. It’s safer in some ways (or at least it feels like it) to stick with the “devil you know.” Fear of what comes next holds us in that state of diapause.

Sometimes our sense of pride or self-righteousness will keep us clinging to judgments and actions that arise from our egos not our souls.

In a story Ram Dass tells from his earlier years in an ashram in India, he had to learn to let go of his ego in order to achieve the next plane of consciousness. He wrote, “My guru once called me over after I threw a plate of food at a Westerner at the ashram. Maharaji said: ‘Ram Dass! Is something the matter?’ I told him my complaints about the Westerners who were hanging around, and he got a glass of milk and fed it to me, and he said, ‘Now, you do it for them.’ So, I fed the milk to every one of the Westerners. It made me feel good in my heart. Feed them. Love everybody.”

Forced to separate from his judgment and to act with love and generosity helped him to awaken again to his soul.

There is an old Carolina story about a country boy who had a great talent for carving beautiful dogs out of wood. Every day he sat on his porch whittling, letting the shavings fall around him. One day a visitor, greatly impressed, asked him the secret of his art. “I just take a block of wood and whittle off the parts that don’t look like a dog.” This is also our path with our very selves.

Remember the path of separation is something we do again and again as we climb the spiral staircase of our spiritual journeys. It takes thought and contemplation, it takes risk and courage. Sometimes our separations may be relatively easy. Sometimes they may seem monumental… how can we possibly let go of that? And yet when we do, we often find a sense of freedom we didn’t know we were missing before. A freedom to release control, expectations. A freedom to simply rest in a chrysalis woven of Sacred Light, surrendering ourselves to a transforming Love that draws us closer and closer to our deepest, truest Selves, the Selves that are flooded with Divine Presence.

Albert Schweitzer once said, “The path of awakening is not about becoming who you are. Rather it is about unbecoming who you are not.”

Love & Light!
Kaye