Passage of Emergence

We’ve come through a long journey with the disciples from the death of Jesus to today, the day they were deemed “ready” to receive the Spirit. The day the wind blew and fire appeared and language barriers were broken. The day divine power swept through them in such a way as to embolden them to go forth and preach despite their fears and the dangers. They finally emerged from their waiting, transformed and ready to spread the message of Jesus. And they are successful! In his newfound boldness, Peter gives impassioned speeches that result in over 3,000 people being baptized, officially choosing to change their lives, to leave their old paths behind and seek transformation on this new road.

A couple of weeks ago we talked about how the spiritual journey is like a spiral staircase, we repeat the processes of awareness, letting go (separation), recognizing our oneness and emerging with a new perspective and understanding over and over again. We don’t get to go from the first floor to the 50^th in one shot, we get to stop at each floor, and most of us regress a floor or two occasionally before making headway again. And, frankly, we may never get to the end of this staircase, but the journey is rewarding in and of itself.

I absolutely love this passage from Mark Nepo's book The Exquisite Risk. It speaks of non-duality (like we talked about last week) and moves us right into emergence.

So a continual and deep risk for us, if we are to feel the presence and friendship of all there is, is to humbly lift the veils we drape ourselves in…Whether we accept it or not, we are asked to let life, in all its unseeable elements, touch us.

How? We can begin by removing the buffers of perception that we create. We can remove the “like” of metaphor, letting the wind be God’s voice. We can remove the “as if” that surrounds old feeling, letting that memory be a visitation. We can remove the imagined sense of dream, letting us feel our deep connection to other beings. We can remove our condescending stamp of theology, letting the spirit in all things touch us. We can remove ourselves from the center, letting the indwelling spirit pass through us, time and again, refreshing and rearranging us, until with D.H. Lawrence, we utter, without shame, “Not I, but the wind that blows through me.

He says we are asked to let life – all of life – touch us. We’re asked to remove the buffers, walls, masks, judgments that stand between us and everything else and truly experience the divine in everything.

Not I, but the Spirit, the divine, the Energy of Love, the Source of All That Is blows through me.

Emergence is where the rubber meets the proverbial road. Emergence means experiencing those moments of the reality underneath the buffers, moments of oneness, connectedness with the divine, and then trying to live out of them. Gosh, it’s hard. But I guess if it were easy we’d all be Jesus and I was assured when I was a student pastor that, “Kaye, there is only one Jesus and you ain’t him.”

My young friend, Nolan, in all his youthful wisdom asked me two very profound questions last week about living out of this understanding that we are all one. The first question was, let’s say someone cuts you off in traffic, perhaps you are riding high on one of your moments of knowing so you are aware that person is just another part of you and you are willing to see them with grace and compassion and let it go. Now, how do you not leap to thinking (egotistically) I am so much further down the spiritual road than they are, look at me, I can just let that go because they just aren’t as enlightened as I am?

A very honest question for one truly trying to remember “Not I, but the wind that blows through me.”  It’s so easy to forget that “not I” part. Now we’ve jumped out of that moment of non-duality by elevating ourselves to a higher plane of consciousness and devolving the unknown person to an ignorant poor slob who just doesn’t know they don’t know. Right?

Well, I guess we take this as a humbling learning experience teaching us that we’re not quite where we hoped we were on our spiritual path. So, back around the other side of the spiral staircase to awareness again. Though our quick awareness is important and promising!

Here’s another thought… what if there isn’t just one spiritual path, or one spiral staircase? What if it isn’t a competition to find our True Selves, or enlightenment? What if my path cannot be walked by anyone else, nor can I walk anyone else’s path? And so there is no way to compare or judge. We concentrate on progressing down our own path, regardless of what we think we see others doing. This is hard when comparing ourselves to others seems to be ingrained in us!

The second question was how do we maintain that feeling of oneness, and treat others accordingly, when there are really big differences between us, like politics or religion?

Given that I’m still working my way up my own spiral staircase, my answer was that I tend to avoid discussions I know will not be a constructive give and take of communication. I just don’t go there. Even Jesus told his disciples to “shake the dust off their feet” when they were not welcomed or listened to. Let it go. Perhaps it isn’t worth destroying your equilibrium. Or perhaps it is easier to see your oneness with those folks from a distance!

Again, I’m clearly not Jesus… though I have my aspirations…

I think Jesus had already made it to the penthouse level of his staircase. He seems to have been able to sit down with anyone and everyone, know that he is in them and they are in him, and not be threatened by their differing opinions or lack of understanding. He kept his cool, his equilibrium, and his objectivity.

Brian McLaren notes, “Jesus was often criticized for this “table fellowship” with notorious sinners; his critics assumed that Jesus’ acceptance of these people implied an approval and endorsement of their shabby behavior. But they misunderstood: Jesus wanted to help them experience transformation. Rejection hardens people, but acceptance makes transformation possible. By accepting and welcoming people into his presence, just as they were, with all their problems and imperfections... he could challenge them to think—and think again—and consider becoming part of the kingdom of God so they could experience and participate in the transformation that flows from being in interactive relationship with God and others….” 

As much as we can, in as many situations as we can, we’re called to be an example of Christ… Christ was not Jesus’ last name, it was the title he acquired after his death that points to his enlightened nature, his oneness with the divine.

Sue Monk Kidd tells a story about a young man who sought out a wise old man and asked, “What great blunder have you made?” The old man replied, “They called me a Christian, but I did not become Christ.”

The seeker was perplexed. “You did not become Christ? Is one supposed to become Christ?”

The old man answered, “I kept putting distance between myself and him, by seeking, by praying, by reading. I kept deploring the distance, but I never realized that I was creating it.”

“But,” the seeker insisted, “is one supposed to become Christ?”

“No distance.”

When we stop putting distance between ourselves and others, including ourselves and the divine, we reach those moments of non-duality, oneness, where our perspective shifts and our actions follow suit.

Rabbi Sharon Brous, in The Amen Effect, tells this story:

My friend goes to a church of Caribbean immigrants in downtown Los Angeles. One day his pastor preached: Say you’re walking in downtown LA, or Chicago, or New York. A naked man runs in front of you on the sidewalk, screaming and cursing. What do you do? Most of us, of course, briskly cross the street. That guy’s unwell, we think.

But say you live in a tiny town of maybe fifty households. You’re walking around one day when a naked man runs in front of you on the sidewalk, screaming and cursing. And because you live in a tiny town, you know this man… it’s Henry. Last week, you just happen to know, there was a terribly tragedy, and fire burned Henry’s house to the ground, leaving him with nothing. What do you do?

“Henry,” you say, “come with me, friend. You need a warm meal and a safe place to stay.”

No distance.

In Jesus' time, baptism was a way of publicly declaring yourself to be a person who has had a change of heart and is on a new spiritual path. On the day of Pentecost, over 3,000 made this open declaration and followed it up by devoting themselves to the apostles’ teachings, to living in communal life, to breaking bread together, praying together, and worshipping in the temple together. They lived together, selling their property and goods and sharing all things in common. (Acts 2:43-47) Their desire for transformation was sincere, sacrificial and visible.

The only way people see the transforming power of the spirit today is if we allow ourselves to walk the path, to open to oneness, and to let people see the divine through our actions. We don’t have to say it or preach it, but we need to live it. Become Christ. No distance. Perhaps our moments of feeling it and living it are few and far between right now, if so, the goal becomes to bring them closer and closer until we can begin to string a few together. Don’t give up! It’s worth it.

Not I, but the wind that blows through me.

Love & Light!

Kaye