Journal of Sacred Work

Days 334-336 - Radical Love

"'The [sciences] will clip an Angel's wings, /Conquer all mysteries by rule and line." - John Keats (195-1821)

    Scientific thinking is one of the great gifts of the Renaissance. Throughout the Dark Ages, scientific thinking and logical analysis were often punished by officials of the Catholic hierarchy that ruled Europe at the time.

   As science has grown to dominate modern thinking, we have sometimes turned to it as a god. "There are no mysteries left," some scientists argue, "only problems that remain to be solved."

   Yet, the most important energy of all, God's Love, remains far beyond what Keats understood as "rule and line." What I call Radical Loving Care, is beyond science because it involves the mystical journey of healing Love through our hearts.

   Who are these courageous people that become vessels of Radical Love? Some are saintly caregivers. Some are artists.

   Some of the greatest among us have often been classified as "crazy" and "possessed of mental illness. Indeed, many of our greatest saints and most brilliant artists have suffered from what is now called "bipolar illness."

   What happens when lay people use modern-day psycho-babel to stereotype (and therefore degrade) those who see the world through an oddly colored lens? Could Abraham Lincoln have survived the kind of scrutiny that would have exposed his moods of elation and depression. Would labeling him (correctly) as "bipolar" have caused his commitment to a mental institution instead of the White House?  

   In her insightful book, Touched With Fire, Dr. Kay Redfeld Jamison, professor of psychiatry at John Hopkins Medical School ponders "whether we have diminished the most extraordinary among us - our writers, artists, and composers - by discussing them in terms of psychopathology or illnesses of mood." (italics added)

   Jamison offers one of the most important and provocative questions I have ever encountered:

   Do we diminish artists [and saints] if we conclude that they are far more likely than most people to suffer from recurrent attacks of mania and depression, experience volatility of temperatment, lean toward the melancholic, and end their lives through suicide?

    As Jesus proved for all of us, the path of Radical Love is paved with thorns of ridicule, persecution, and degradation. Jesus was mocked as a megalomaniac for claiming to be the son of God and the messiah.

   Yes, there are those among who are dangerously ill with mental diseases. Yet, the greatest among must travel into dark corners, explore dangerous jungles, and climb the most daunting heights in order to bring back to the world the riches these areas hold. The trip they make is one the rest of us are too timid to try.

   Imagine what happens if you try to live Love beyond the rules and are punished for doing so by a supervisor stuck to "line and rule." How loving would you remain if your job were threatened for something as kind as letting the family member of a dying patient stay beyond visiting hours?

   Society sends a strange message: Practice Radical Love but be sure you follow the rules. Paint something better than anyone has every painted, but make sure it's traditional. Live Love, but don't act "crazy" (like some kind of Jesus?)

   In other words, society tells us, "Do not act like Jesus. Don't fall into depression and question why you have been forsaken. Live revenge: an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth."

   Saints like Mother Theresa, Gandhi and Dr. Albert Schweitzer and artists from Beethoven & Charles Dickens to Mark Twain and Vincent Van Gogh (along with thousands of other greats) were all afflicted with various kinds of bipolar illness. They were celebrated for the genius of their work created in the more manic state and shunned when they fell into depression and irritability.

   But, we don't have to be great to suffer rejection from our peers. All we have to do is truly Live Love and we will likely be attacked by society for being different.

   The shunning of Lovers is the crime. Radical Love calls all of us who may not have the gifts of the great to honor the suffering that saints and artists endure.

   It is not for us to condemn the bad moods of the great. Love is free, but not cheap. Radical Love is not for the faint-hearted.

   I admire the gifts of science. But, I am not going to let it clip my wings - my belief in the eternal mystery and ineffable power of Love.

   As Jamison writes, "The great imaginative artists have always sailed 'in the wind's eye,' and brought back with them words or sounds or images to 'counterbalance human woes.'(Byron) That they themselves were subject to more than their fair share of these woes deserves our appreciation, understanding, and very careful thought."

-Erie Chapman 

Days 333-334: Circles

  
  Everything the Power of the World does is done in a circle. The sky is round, and I have heard that the earth is round like a ball, and so are all the stars. The wind, in its greatest power whirls. Birds make their nest in circles, for theirs is the same religion as ours. The sun comes forth and goes down again in a circle. The moon does the same and both are round. Even the seasons form a great circle in their changing, and always come back again to where they were. The life of a man is a circle from childhood to childhood, and so it is in everything where power moves. Our tepees were round like the nests of birds, and these were always set in a circle, the nation's hoop." –Black Elk

What is it about a circle that brings us toward wholeness? When we gather in a circle, the energy naturally shifts as  intimacy forms. In  circle, people face one another, which enhances communication and creates a sense of inclusiveness and connection. Circles are equalizing for without positions of power barriers of hierarchy simply disappear.

 A circle encompasses one's heart center; the essence of one's spiritual light.  This is the intersection where opposites converge and dualism transmutes into union. Where two halves that once perceived  separately remember their origin of  being One. Circles invite the sacred to manifest in the fullness and emptiness of the moment. There is great mystery to be discovered in circles. It is here that God turns around to reveal Love's radiant face. 

"Ah,  I have gotten the hint: There is  something about circles that the Beloved likes." -Hafiz

(Note: the mandala above is one of my first, drawn with colored pencils and magic markers.The photo is a photostock image.)

 ~Liz Sorensen Wessel

Enjoy this lovely video called, "Circles" - A poem by Hafiz, music by Jackson Berkey

 

 

Days 331-332 - A Different Thanksgiving

   This will be a strange Thanksgiving for a family dear to my wife and me. On November 19, my friend Stephanie, only fifty-three years old, passed away after a year-long encounter with a cancer that attacked her brain (I hate to refer to cancer as a "battle" since when the afflicted die, it then becomes a "loss" - as if cancer had somehow won some kind of victory.)

   How will Stephanie's husband and daughter experience today's holiday? What memories will fill the hearts of her two younger sisters and her younger brother, none of whom have known life without her. What about her parents and friends?

   Whenever we lose someone we love, the texture of each holiday changes, doesn't it? We begin to recognize things we loved in the departed that we may not have appreciated during their lives.

   I wrote a remembrance for my friend that I share with you in hopes it will be universal enough to speak to you as well. It is called "Falling Away" because that is how we may feel about those who die from this earth.

Falling Away

Across the forest, leaves descend to the bed of their birth. Thinking you were evergreen, we search the woods confused to find you missing, our calls unanswered.

Who stole your laughter? Where is your bright intelligence?

Finally, we discover you in a hidden glen walking the moonlit path of our memory.

Strange how your strong voice can no longer form a word or bristle at the thorns of injustice.

Stranger still how you can no longer untie life’s problems for us with your skillful hands.

Hard to know our eyes cannot find your familiar face sitting across a table or by our side.

Harder still that your arms can no longer enfold us,  

Time for us to listen amid the windless woods, hear how we knew you, know that no pain can sear you any longer.

Time for us to remember that all leaves leave, that all stars fall, that you have exchanged the breath of the world for the sweet whispers of eternity.

Time for us to gather for a glad goodbye, to celebrate the truth that Love wraps you now & always in her precious embrace.

-Reverend Erie Chapman

Days 328-330 - Delight

"Thou who hast given so much to me, give one thing more - a grateful heart." -Don Schlosser

   Delight. Just hearing the word brings a lovely kind of energy, doesn't it? Imagine living in the arms of delight each day.  

   One way in which we fall into her lap is through the magic of gratitude. I have often wondered why I forget this message so often - especially since we in America are in the midst of celebrating Thanksgiving.

   For example, a friend of mine asked me recently if I felt loved by nature. Never having considered this, I couldn't answer right away.

   If I were truly grateful for nature I would feel her embrace, wouldn't I? Why wasn't I in touch with that?

   The very question has led me down the forest path to delight. I find myself beginning to receive a gift which was always there, but which I had never unwrapped. Of course, that gift is available to us all. Perhaps, you can feel it in the photograph I took recently that shows the sun wrapping itself around an oak.

   Love holds us as close as we will allow ourselves to be held.  Love never turns us away. The question is whether we will accept the continuous offer Love extends.

   As we approach Thanksgiving, what worries circle your heart? Psychologists tell us to be wary of expecting too much at the holidays. "Don't over-plan for everybody else," they warn. "Don't try to solve interpersonal issues during the holidays."

   Now we know what we are not supposed to do, what are we to do? What about savoring our friends and family as well as the great food? What about replacing old resentments and irritations with delight in the company Thanksgiving provides?

   Meanwhile, outside the halls of hospitals, hospices and nursing homes, nature breathes the aroma of life. Beyond the dining room, the woods, the lakes, the gardens, the sea all offer relief, refreshment, and Love's boundless energy. 

   Do you experience delight in Nature's gifts? Do you feel loved by her? Do you feel delight right now, not because you are supposed to, but because the word offers you its own special energy?

   Love holds us as close as we will allow her. And when we let Love speak to us, a rich delight arrives.

-Erie Chapman

 

Days 327-328 Basic Goodness

 “Earth is always earth. The earth will always let anyone sit on it, and earth never gives way. It never lets you go-you don’t drop off the earth and go flying through outer space. Likewise, sky is always sky; heaven is always heaven above you. Whether it is snowing or raining or the sun is shining, whether it is daytime or nighttime, the sky is always there. In that sense, we know that heaven and earth are trustworthy.” – Chögyam Trungpa

  The following reflection is based on teachings of Chögyam Trungpa, from his book, “Shambhala the Sacred Path of the Warrior.”  There is a basic goodness to life. Earth does not require that we achieve some feat in order for us to receive her gifts. She offers them freely and without distinction.  We can catch little glimpses of this goodness in our daily routines. Maybe, you were in a building all day long. As you take your leave and step outside, you pause for a moment, breathe in the cool crisp autumn air; exhale with a sigh of gratitude. You trump through the fallen leaves and enjoy the crunch, crunch, crunching sound beneath your feet. A waft of chimney smoke stirs longings within as your eyes trace the curve of the crescent moon. You experience a light touch of appreciation for all that is inherently good.

Similarly, there is a basic goodness in every human being that contains great gentleness and appreciation. Each of us has a responsibility to help our world. Our quest then is to discover what unique gift we have to offer. Unless we can uncover our basic goodness, how can we hope to help improve the lives of others?

 Trungpa suggested that we begin with the simple act of sitting with a good posture as we focus on our breathing. This unconditional meditation is not bound to any particular culture and it is without judgment and preconceived ideas. It enables our mind and body to synchronize as peacefulness unfolds within. Trungpa explained, “Through the practice of sitting still and following your breath as it goes out and dissolves, you are connecting with your heart. By simply letting yourself be, as you are, you develop gentle sympathy for yourself.”

Trungpa poses a poignant question, “How often have you connected with yourself in your whole life?” In essence, what is most important is a willingness to open up and befriend ourselves. It requires a willingness to face ourselves without resistance or avoidance of our discomfort.

As we open to ourselves, we can openly share our heart with the world. 

~Liz Sorensen Wessel

(Mandala watercolor above, by ~liz)

I hope you enjoy this wonderful little poem written and performed by Tanya Davis called, "How to Be Alone". 

 

 

Days 325-326 - Consecration

 
    I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence. - Oriah Mountain Dreamer

   Every encounter holds the potential to become sacred because every moment is pregnant with the holy. It is only Love, which can consecrate any occurance or any place.

   I have frequently used the photo, above (taken by my daughter, Tia, at Yale New Haven Hospital) because it bears all the signs of a sacred encounter. Is not the nurse, above, consecrating the moment with her sick patient by the Love with which she cradles him?

   This means that you can consecrate any encounter, no matter how slight it may seem, by letting Love flow through you. Abraham Lincoln did that on November 19, 1863 through the encounter he had with a crowd of mourners at Gettysburg.

   In his sacred speech, Lincoln confessed to the audience that none of them could consecrate the battleground spread out before them. "The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract," Lincoln told the half-listening crowd.

   When Lincoln finished, no one realized they had just heard what would become the most famous revered speech American history, before or since. In the Gettysburg Address, Lincoln may also have freed the word "consecration" from the heavy weight religiosity it had carried for centuries.

   In fact, the word consecration refers to any act connected to the sacred.

   Experienced caregivers know that the birth of a baby may be a holy event. It can also be stripped of meaning by the participants.

   Twenty years ago, while helping out with a delivery at Riverside Methodist Hospital, I saw a mother desecrate the moment of her daughter's birth by expressing repeated disgust that the child was a girl. Six months later, I saw another mother and father consecrate the birth of their baby with tears and joy.

   Sacredness depends upon Love. Disgust, apathy, and hatred can drive the holy from any setting.

   Part of the reason hospice care has become so powerful for millions is that hospice caregivers are trained to understand how to be present with dying patients. With God's Love, they consecrate the departure of the dying.

   But, here may be the most powerful understanding for caregivers: You and I truly do have both the ability and the opportunity to consecrate our work - to bring such Love to patients that we bless them with our healing presence.

   To do this may mean stepping back and looking with new eyes, sacred eyes, at encounters that may have seemed routine and places that have seemed ordinary. Neither cathedral ceiling, nor gold leaf nor rich clothing is required for consecration. All that is needed is Love and the reverence that flows from it.

   I  can look into your eyes or look past them. You can listen or you can ignore. We can open our hearts to beauty, or we can close down and move on.

   After Lincoln finished his speech, Edward Everett, the keynote speaker at the event, told Lincoln, "You said more in two minutes than I said in two hours."

   Everett may have been the only one who truly heard Lincoln. He may have realized that Lincoln's brief remarks helped consecrate not only the battleground but the hearts of all of us who read his words nearly one hundred-fifty years later.

   Like Lincoln, Oriah Mountain Dreamer's words, above, challenge us to create the sacred by seeing beauty every day, "even when it's not pretty,"

-Erie Chapman   

Days 322-324 - The Wisdom in Loneliness

   "If we're set on creating change, on doing things differently, we must be prepared for loneliness." - Margaret Wheatley.

    Photography is the art I have practiced the longest. Recently, I've noticed that more and more of the images I make, including the one at left, suggest loneliness.

   Why is loneliness so painful for so many of us? Why does the very word suggest sadness instead of a place where wisdom and comfort may lie? What wisdom might arrive if we chose to accept this inevitable condition instead of trying to shrug it off.

    I wrote a note about this issue to a new, Canadian acquaintance who heard me speak recently in Milwaukee. Her name is Olivia McIvor and she also travels the country talking with caregivers. Her expertise is the power of kindness. 

   Ms. McIvor (whose work I recommend) sent me the lovely quote, above, from Ms. Wheatley. The quote  continues on for a paragraph. Wheatley's words produced such an effect on me that I pass along more of them to you:

   "We will always be the minority, and we will always feel invisible and lonely.  Or at least we feel this way at first.  As our work deepens and we find the few others to accompany us...we grow wiser about how the world works."

   Do those of us who let our thoughts soar beyond the everyday way of doing things ever feel like we can find "a few others to accompany us," ...or even one?  Do we have the courage to continue when we truly feel invisible?

   Wheatley writes, "Loneliness eventually transforms into a willingness to be alone, even a desire for the space and peace available when nobody else is there." (italics added)

   One of the definitions of extroversion is that extroverts draw their energy from continuous and frequent interactions with groups. For many extroverts, the idea that extended loneliness might be something desirable may seem novel.

   No longer confined to the flourescent-lit hospitals and high-ceilinged courtrooms that have dominated my life for four decades, I am learning a different way of living. More and more of my days are filled with travels through dense woods and swims in remote lakes. My many years indoors have made these travels feel like journeys into the unknown.

  Of course, I've always known the woods were there. But, now I find myself lying down in the leaves free of the pressure to run back to some important appointment with civilization. In these times, I touch the hem of the wisdom that thrives in this kind of quiet.

   Of course, you, and every caregiver (like all humanity) experience isolation - sometimes when right in the middle of a crowd. Companionship may drive that feeling of loneliness away for awhile. But sometimes, it can weigh us down.

   It is through our journey within that we discover a new strength and a deeper wisdom. What has to change, in our thinking, in order for us to see our lonely times as rich instead of sad? Again, Wheatley ofters a path for us to take: "...to get to this lovely place, we first have to let loneliness be there, wait for it to pass through, and then notice that it's gone, and that we quite like the space we're in."

   Can we let "loneliness be there" for awhile - so long that we allow it to "pass through?" Will we find, in its place, a greater gift of Love?

   Society requires that we schedule appointments. Nature makes no such demands. What if you scheduled more time for yourself with yourself...just yourself?

-Reverend Erie Chapman

Days 320-321 The Uneven Places is Where You Can Find Me

"I love him whose soul is deep even in the wounding, and may succumb through a small matter: thus goeth he willingly over the bridge."

                                                                                                                                                 -F.W. Nietzsche

  The late philosopher John  O’ Donohue noted that as human beings we have a strong desire to domesticate our lives. In an attempt to create a sense of security we carve out niches that are predictable, reliable, and within our control. We live patterned routines and gradually become trapped by expectations of ourselves and others. We may lose touch with life’s fluid nature and the miracle of being here. We can travel through our days and nights seemingly unaware of how precious the gift.  Perhaps on some level we know but we get caught in the struggles and are uncertain about how to live any other way. 

Richard Rohr, a theologian, offers us an insight. “Like a bridge across the river between the conscious and the unconscious, our soul mediates and carries the images from one realm to another. The soul also mediates between the body and the spirit, and builds a bridge to the other side so the conscious and unconscious can walk back and forth. This is soul work. Opening up this bridge is the work of the second half of life."

A bridge provides an opportunity to cross over some obstacle to get from one point to another. To cross  requires making a choice and involves action on our part. Do we move forward or do we avoid venturing into unknown territory? Will we risk the sacred journey?

 O’ Donohue realized that the greatest gift we could ever dream could be given by only one person... and that person is YOU!  He explained, “The most subversive invitation you could ever accept is the invitation to awaken to who you are and where you have landed. When your soul awakens, you begin to inherit your life. The greatest friend of the soul is the unknown.”

Often, we are leary of the unknown as the crossing may seem perilous. We may get stuck, afraid we will make the wrong choice and become paralyzed by anxiety and fear. At times we hold on  doggedly to the familiar, even when the result is detrimental rather than trust the promise of creating a new future. 

 In his Book, "The Heart Aroused," David Whyte tells a story of his hiking trip in Tibet. He was with a group but planned to venture off on his own and reconvene with them a few days later.  Eventually, he came upon a dilapidated old bridge that he would have to cross in order to meet up with his hiking party. Several of the footboards were missing and he saw a treacherous gorge 400 feet below.  He sat for an hour surmising the risk of crossing amid such danger. He could not move forward and felt discouraged by the propect of having to turn back.

Suddenly,  an old bent woman appeared carrying a large basket on her back and her eyes glued to the ground.  She was searching for dung that was needed for fuel. Startled by David,  she placed her hands in a prayer pose and bowed in the customary greeting of Namaste (I see the God in you).  She turned for a moment and with a mischievous smile disappeared across the rickety bridge. w Qucikly and without hesitation David immediately followed after her to the safety of the other side.

On a daily basis, we are faced with the choices of crossing the bridges of our lives. We need to trust our inner voice. Rather than react or retreat from challenging experiences we can choose to  a better way.

"I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding."
- John O'Donohue

  John O’Donohue encouraged the passage of awakening, “Once you start to awaken, no one can ever claim you again for the old patterns. You want your work to become an expression of your gift.  On this journey, you begin to see how the sides of your heart that seemed awkward, contradictory and uneven are the places where the treasure lies hidden.  You develop from your own self-compassion a great compassion for others. You are no longer caught in the false game of judgment, comparison and assumption. At the deepest level, this adventure of growth is in fact a transfigurative conversation with your own death. And when the time comes for you to leave, the view from your death bed will show a life of growth that gladdens the heart and takes away all fear.”

~Liz  Sorensen Wessel

Note in order of appearance: Capilano Suspension Bridge, Vancouver; SheHara Bridge, Yeman; Millau Viaduct, Fance; Primative Bridge, unknown;  The painting by Claude Monet is called "Japenese Footbridge."

Days 317-318 - "Trails of Words & Music"

    "Maybe it's true that we all scatter trails of words and music that are embedded in our footprints. That dream-tracks cover the land, are woven through waves like a map to find our way home. And maybe there's nothing: no tiny grains of sand, no rock, leaf or the smallest trickle of water that can't be sung."" - Ellen Kort - Sea Turtle (1995)

   We never know, do we? We can never discover what our "trail of words and music" has meant in the lives of others.

   Perhaps, what matters most is not what we know, but what we believe is meaningful for each of us. As I read Kort's words, I thought about the trail you, as a caregiver, travel each day as you go about your sacred work.

   What is the question you ask yourself each morning? Do you rise with a "Yes" to the world? Or do you discover that you have fallen into a pattern that says "No" to your own life - over and over and over?

   It's remarkably difficult for each of us to truly grow more alive each day. The comfort of routines can take us hostage.

   I have spoken to many who, upon reaching the end of their careers, discover that they've been sleep walking through their jobs, mindlessly repeating tiresome tasks while counting the years, months, weeks and days until retirement.

   Within a few months of retirement, lot of these folks discover disappointment. They enter a season of regret for all the years when they chose "No" to their lives instead of rising each day with a resounding "Yes" to their world.

   The path of our lives is, Kort writes,  "woven through waves like a map to find our way home." Do you know where "home" is for you? When you arrive there, will you be able to lean into the center of your heart with a sense of knowing that you have truly lived Love?

-Erie Chapman   

*photo by Erie Chapman

Days 314-316 - Our Costumes

   As my daughter put her daughter to bed on Halloween night, the two-year-old said to her, "Even though I'm taking off my costume, I'm still Cinderella."

   Not yet three, my granddaughter already understands that you don't have to have the costume on to truly be the character.

   What impact does your "costume" have on you as a caregiver? Do you still feel like a doctor, nurse or other caregiver when you doff your uniform in favor of regular clothes?

   My work outfit as a hospital CEO was nothing more than a suit and tie. But, I recall the strange feeling I experienced when I left hospital leadership after thirty years and was no longer wearing a name-tag that said, "President & CEO."

   I also felt the impact of our work costumes during the years I worked alongside staff in the hospital and put on a housekeeping or dietary uniform. The moment I doned the clothes of a housekeeper, for example, I immediately felt the difference.

   Back when I took over Riverside Methodist Hospital in Columbus we had six thousand employees and over one thousand doctors on staff.

   As CEO, I immediately received some deference. In a housekeeper's uniform, I was sometimes invisible to others - a painful signal of the way lower-paid staff are treated every day.

   I felt a little like my granddaughter. "Even though I'm not wearing my coat and tie, I'm still the CEO."

   Of course, we are not our jobs, but that distinction can sometimes be lost. Caregiver's uniforms and work tools can empower or dis-empower.

   A stethoscope around the neck confers high status. A mop does not.

   Until almost every hospital employee began wearing them, scrubs used to signal high status. Patient gowns never have. 

   Indeed, patient gowns are the most important example of the way we feel and are treated because of what we are wearing. When I've had to put one on, I've always felt like I needed to say to everyone around me, "Even though I'm wearing a patient gown, I'm still a person."

   Meanwhile, for me, my granddaughter will always be Cinderella. Whether, she is wearing her Halloween costume or whether, one day far in the future, she is wearing a cap and gown.

Reverend Erie Chapman 

Days 312-313 (In)significance: Not Everyone Knows My Name

 "Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it."–Mahatma Gandhi

 I was just a child when I first realized that someday I would die. I could not fathom how the world could possibly go on without me, for surely,  the earth would stop turning on its axis!

 At 18, being young and adventurous, I quit my job and traveled with my best friend,  Susan. Upon  return, I visited an elderly woman I had cared for while working at the Brattleboro Retreat. To my great disappointment, she did not remember me. I wondered, how could this be? When I left her, I had a good cry.

 While in nursing school (age 21) I moved in with family friends to help care for Margie. She was dying from cancer. I thought about my own eventual non-being on this earth. At the time, I imagined a void of  complete nothingness, which was beyond my comprehension.  Elizabeth Kubler-Ross opened a window to my understanding of how death gives meaning to life.

 I have been working in N. CA for the past few months. On a recent weekend home, I attended a social event at my faith community.  In conversation with a fellow parishioner it was apparent that he was not aware I had been away.  I felt a little heart pang when I  realized I had not been missed.

 Each of these occurrences, though small, were poignant moments in my life. Although embarrassingly ego-based, they had one thing in common; they all accentuated an awareness of my insignificance.

 October 24, 2010 marked the one-year anniversary of Dr. Stanley vandenNort’s death and we gathered to remember him and to celebrate his life. At the church service the pastor asked, “What is the question of your life? A questioned surfaced for me, what is the significance of my life?
After mass, we met at the vandenNoort home. We gathered in an inclusive circle of family, patients and friends. We  shared personal stories of how this man's  impact on each of us was bigger than life. Why, because Dr. V lived Love. He was a man driven…by Love. He was humble,  down to earth and extremely generous with his time and attention. He gave himself unreservedly to people he cared for. His extraordinary compassion and humor complimented his brilliant mind and skillful science. His beneficence knew no bounds. One by one, we acknowledged that there was something unique, miraculous even, about Dr. V’s caregiving. When we came full circle,  a man returned to the pastor’s question  and passionately affirmed that Dr. V’s life was significant.

 I knew I had just heard the answer to my life’s question.  Although, this man was speaking about  Dr. V, I believe it was also a message for me. (I love how God speaks to me through the voice of others). I realize that my life is a mere flicker of a flame compared to Dr. V’s brilliance. It is not my aim to compare. More, to honor his memory  as I grapple with life's impermanence and my own feelings of insignificance. 

For all of us, for those we love, or have loved, for all who are missed or not, long remembered or only in passing, forgotten or insignificant. The truth is, every moment we  Love our life has significance.

~liz Sorensen Wessel

 The following video is by Kevin Champion made for his Digital Ethnography class at Kansas State University (Dr. Mike Wesch – Spring, 2009). In it, Kevin attempted to layout what has been called the "crisis of significance" that we may sometimes experience in our world today.
 
 
 

Days 309-311 - What We Must Do

    "What the sun does simply being there, you must do, over and over, with a piece of flint, two brittle sticks on a windy plain where rain is about to fall."                                            - R.M. Ryan - (From a writing on the myth of Prometheus, illustrated at left.)

   How many Monday mornings has the alarm clock startled you with this question: "Why should I get out of bed?" or, "How can I face another day with that terrible boss of mine?" or, "How am I going to be able to make ends meet when I have so little money, so little talent, so little resources, so little...?"

   In Greek mythology, Prometheus is the character who defied the gods by stealing fire from Zeus and bringing it to earth. He was a champion of mankind and sought to help our existence. And he was punished for his theft - for his desire to make life livable for human beings.

   What do we do with the warmth and light that fire brings to us?

   The hardest life question is not "what," but, "why?"

   Why are we here? Why should we keep living our lives when "the rain is about to fall" and we are certain to die?

   Most of us have long since put this question aside. We know we are here, why probe further? But, those who continue to search may find a precious answer.

   One terrible morning in 1997, when I was out of work following the acquisition of the company I had been helping lead, I was awakened not by an alarm but by a harsh sun.

   "What's the point of rising?" I asked myself.

   It wasn't economic hardship that brought this question. Instead, I was face-to-face with a harder challenge: Who was I apart from my work?

   At the time, after three decades of successful employment, I couldn't figure out the answer to that question. I had made the mistake of merging my identity with my vocation.

   "I have no job, no place to express my skills, no reason to to keep on going," I told myself over and over. "My family is raised, my wife is fine, no one needs me. So, why continue?"   

      The root of these issues is contained in Ryan's brilliant words. Why do we go forward, "over and over" when all we have is "a piece of flint, two brittle sticks on a windy plain where the rain is about to fall."

   Caregivers have a glorious answer to the question, "Why?" It is because they are needed. It is because people are in pain and desperately hope for our help, your help.

   It is because God, who is Love, has given us the opportunity to help each other in whatever way we can. And, it is because we have been given the skills, the heart, and the strength, to offer our helping hands to others. 

   We may be awakened each day by the alarm, or by the sun, or simply because we need no more sleep. But, that is not why caregivers rise.

   What we do, over and over each day, is take our piece of flint, strike it against two sticks and try to kindle fire. And we continue to do it even in the face of impending rain.

   The question is, Why? The answer is Love.

-Reverend Erie Chapman