Nakedness

As you may have heard, Jon W has a new CD out.

The album is called "Clothe Yourself in Righteousness" and is available for sale on Jon's website, along with a pamphlet about the spiritual symbolism of nakedness by Maggie H.

I have not read the pamphlet yet, but I have listened to the CD, and it is beautiful.  Jon does more than take off his clothes in this music—he bares his soul.  Jon is a poet and a prophet: he speaks the truth and is willing to be vulnerable and let the light of Christ shine through him.

Recently, a dear friend and elder wrote,

There is a cadre of Young Friends at present who are showing us older Friends how to reach across the boundaries Friends have allowed to separate us, recognizing and claiming the spiritual gifts of all kinds of Friends and knitting them together.  They are passionate in their faith, ready to sacrifice much to be witnesses for it. 

Jon is one of these Friends.  I am grateful for his faithfulness, and I encourage you to listen to his music and support him in his ministry.

Blessing

I have started meeting with a spiritual director once a month and it has been a lovely experience so far.  The woman I see is a Benedictine oblate with a gentle, loving presence.  She reminds me that God loves me, a message that I often need to hear.

Yesterday, she brought a blessing by John O'Donohue, which we read aloud to bless each other.  It seems like the perfect thing for the beginning of a work week, so I thought I'd share it here.

A Blessing for What We Do

by John O'Donohue

May the light of your soul guide you.

May the light of your soul bless the work you do with the secret love and warmth of your heart.

May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.

May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light, and renewal to those who work with you and to those who see and receive your work.

May your work never weary you.

May it release within you wellsprings of refreshment, inspiration, and excitement.

May you be present in what you do.

May you never become lost in the bland absences.

May the day never burden.

May dawn find you awake and alert, approaching your new day with dreams, possibilities, and promises.

May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.

May you go into the night blessed, sheltered, and protected.

May your soul calm, console, and renew you.

Amen.

Forgiving

Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”

Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times." (Matthew 18:21-22)

During the school year, I attend a mid-week Methodist prayer meeting on the campus across the street from work.  We get together to read a passage from the lectionary three times, share briefly about what speaks to us from that passage, sing a song, and pray for ourselves and the world.  The chaplains who lead this meeting are well aware that I am a Quaker and, though it is not my tradition, I enjoy the liturgy.

Yesterday, we read the passage from Matthew on how many times we should forgive someone who sins against us.  It is a familiar passage, and I had always understood those verses to mean that we should forgive our brother each time he sins against us.

That's hard.  

But as I listened to the verses and then read them aloud myself, I heard them a different way.  I realized that I also need to keep forgiving another person who has wronged me for the same thing.

It is so much easier to forgive someone than to keep forgiving them.  I will forgive someone for something and think I am over it, but then later (sometimes months later!), I will feel angry and hurt again about whatever it was that happened.

Letting go is hard.  Forgiving over and over is hard.  But maybe if I do it seventy-seven times, it will actually stick.