Readings week of February 2nd.

Readings from last week's Daily Contemplative Pauses

*All previous readings & reflections can be found here*

Monday, February 2nd

Reading: 

Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief.

Do justly, now.

Love mercy, now.

Walk humbly, now.

You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.

— Talmud

Chant: What does the Lord require of you? Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly

— Henry Schoenfield

Tuesday, February 3rd

Reading: “Our life is to be a continuous "dying to self": a voluntary relinquishing of a smaller or more relative life in order to actualize a larger and more permanent one. But what kind of dying is Jesus really talking about here ["Whoever would save his life will lose it and whoever loses his life will find it" (Matthew 16:25)]? At what level is this teaching intended to be taken?

“In classic Christian moral theology, dying to self is generally interpreted as dying to self-will. In other words, we all have our wants, needs, preferences, opinions, and agendas, some of which may be authentic expressions of our being but many of which are motivated (or at least aggravated) by fear and self-importance. Dying to self means being willing to let go of what I want (or think 1 want) in order to create space for God to direct, lead, and guide me into a truer way of being. This understanding finds its paradigm in Jesus' own struggle in the garden of Gethsemane and his ultimate willing surrender: "Not my will but thine be done, Oh Lord." Whenever there is the appearance of two wills, mine and God's, the smaller will must eventually bring itself into alignment with the larger one so oneness can be restored and the divine truth and mercy can manifest itself in my life. This is certainly an important and valid way of understanding what dying to self is.“ — Cynthia Bourgeault, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, p. 80

Chant: Come into being as you pass away — The Oriental Orthodox Order in the West

Wednesday, February 4th  

Reading: “But is there another way, one that penetrates still deeper into the existential dimension of this teaching?

“I remember being struck more than a decade ago by a comment made by Father Laurence Freeman… Pondering what meditation has to teach us about Jesus' own death, Father Laurence remarked, "Every time we meditate, we participate in the death of Christ."

“He is quite right, of course. The practice of meditation is indeed an authentic experience of dying to self-not at the level of the will, however, but at the level of something even more funda-mental: our core sense of identity and the egoic processing methods that keep it in place. When we enter meditation, it is like a "mini-death," at least from the perspective of the ego (which is why it can initially feel so scary). We let go of our self-talk, our interior dialogue, our fears, wants, needs, preferences, daydreams, and fantasies. These all become just "thoughts," and we learn to let them go. We simply entrust ourselves to a deeper aliveness, gently pulling the plug on that tendency of the mind to want to check in with itself all the time. In this sense, meditation is a mini-rehearsal for the hour of our own death, in which the same thing will happen. There comes a moment when the ego is no longer able to hold us together, and our identity is cast to the mercy of Being itself. This is the existential experience of "losing one's life."

“I think the inference is obvious: Just as in meditation we participate in the death of Christ, we also participate in his resurrection. At the end of those twenty or so minutes of sitting, when the bell is rung, we are still here! For twenty minutes we have not been holding ourselves in life, and yet life remains. Something has held us and carried us. And this same something, we gradually come to trust, will hold and carry us at the hour of our death. To know this—really know this—is the beginning of resurrection life.” — Cynthia Bourgeault, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, p. 80

Chant: Whether I live, whether I die, I am the Lord’s — Alana Levandoski

Thursday, February 5th

Reading: “This existential understanding of the "losing one's life/ finding one's life" paradox is significant in two important ways. First, it allows us to hear Jesus' message of inner awakening within the context of the wider Wisdom tradition to which this teaching actually belongs…virtually all the great spiritual traditions of the world share the conviction that humanity is the victim of a tragic case of mistaken identity. There is a "self" and a Self, and our fatal mistake lies in confusing the two. The egoic self, or cataphatic self, is in virtually every spiritual tradition… is the imposter who claims to be the whole. This imposter can become a good servant, but it is a dangerous master. Awakening—which in Jesus' teaching really boils down to the capacity to perceive and act in accordance with the higher laws of the Kingdom of Heaven—is a matter of piercing through the charade of the smaller self to develop a stable connection with the greater Self… this means becoming intimate with our spiritual identity, the sense of selfhood carried in our spiritual awareness. Whenever we make this shift from egoic to spiritual awareness, we are authentically "losing our life"—even if it is only for the duration of the meditation period!

“Once this existential dimension is seen, it not only reorients the roadmap but also puts in our hands important practical tools for transformation. The role of meditation in service of the gospel becomes much more clear: it creates a bridge between these two levels of awareness within us, offering a consistent and reliable way of practicing the passage from small self to greater Self. 

Chant: When were you ever made less by dying? You are the Ocean and the Ocean is you.

Saturday, February 7th with LeMel

Reading: Matthew 5:1-12 (Translation: The Message)

When Jesus saw his ministry drawing huge crowds, he climbed a hillside. Those who were apprenticed to him, the committed, climbed with him. Arriving at a quiet place, he sat down and taught his climbing companions. This is what he said:

“You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and God’s rule.

“You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.

“You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.

“You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.

“You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.

“You’re blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.

“You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family.

“You’re blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God’s kingdom.

“Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don’t like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble.

Chant: 

May we be blessed.

May we be blessed.

Sunday, February 8th with LeMel

Reading:

Eight

For Courage

You fly, O Eternal,

Between the heavens and the earth,

Multi-colored plumage

Leaving paths of brilliance

To lead my soul to You.

Circle back, O Flier;

As I turn to follow Your path,

Draw me across the sky.

Your wings flutter, 

Hovering here, above my head,

Stalling to wait until I look up,

Lingering to catch my heart,

And lead my soul to You.

Beckon me with Your throaty call

As I spread the wings of my hope,

And lift, singing back Your notes.

Slow for me, hold back Your speed,

For my wings must gather courage

As I strive to follow the spiral

Of Your passage

That leads my soul to You.

Guide me on, O Flier, 

Diving through clouds into sunlight,

To rise ever higher.

— From Debbie Perlman in Flames to Heaven: New Psalms for Healing & Praise, former Psalmist-in-Residence at Beth Emet The Free Synagogue

Chant: Lead My Soul Ever to You

Catching my heart

I wing my way to You

As you draw me across the sky

Lead my soul ever to You

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