Category: religion (page 1 of 1)

January 19, 2013 / 1 Comment

Do You Pray?

“Just outrun the demons, could you?” – Frank Ocean, Bad Religion

I do and I don’t know what to make of it, because I feel like a hypocrite. But I only do it when I’m at my most scared or my most fearful … and my most vulnerable. I don’t know what to do with that because it really does not align with anything that I’ve said all day today, yet I still find myself doing that. – Kyle Simpson in NPR’s On Religion, Some Young People Show Both Doubt And Respect

I’ve prayed several times over the last month. Any time I hear a siren, I take a moment to think, “may they reach their destination  in time and may those in need have it.” When I know I’m powerless to change someone else’s condition, I pray they find comfort, serenity, joy, and strength. I prayed for all those moved by the passing of my father-in-law sending out both a kind of spiritual hug and thoughts of gratitude for those who sought to ease the pain for those I love so dearly. I prayed for myself. For a good night’s sleep. For empathy. For solace.

I didn’t pray to a g-d, though. At least, I don’t see it that way.  I refer you back to Faith. I prayed because I believe our thoughts matter. I prayed because I do feel a connectedness and rhythm to the life and that maybe, just maybe, good thoughts, strong thoughts, powerful thoughts can nudge us all a little more towards right. In some previous location of my writing, I’ve mentioned a gift from my friend, Michelle: The Book of Jewish Values by Rabbi Joseph Telushkin. The very first lesson is what to do when Hearing a Siren. I think about it daily. We love by what we do to and for others but we also love by recognizing that we are all linked.

In the last two weeks, I’ve been reminded in the best ways of this connection. No matter the differences in beliefs, I felt akin to those grieving with me. Appreciative. Sympathetic.

And so I prayed.

January 3, 2013 / 0 Comments

Faith

“Only Mother Nature knows, knows the reason why.” – 4Hero, Morning Child

Getting old, like most everything, is a leap of faith in the humanity of others.

I said that recently in a chat about mortality. Faith is an interesting thing. We Americans are a religious lot so I get the sense that we tend to equate faith with a deity, with an after-life, with something greater than us as human beings.

But our society runs entirely on faith and trust in each other, doesn’t it? In other people to follow the rules of the road, or of basic decency, or to give in an extraordinary fashion when the chips are down out of something as fantastical as love or friendship or community.

I don’t put my faith in gods. I put my faith in you. Whether that you is kin or tribe, stranger or authority figure. I trust that we are all trying our best. That when the going gets tough, some of you won’t run away but toward me with an open heart and a helping hand.

I believe that to be true today and imagine it to be just as true when i’m closer to the end of my days.

Joshua Topolsky recently wrote at The Verge:

Yes, there are reasons to despair. To doubt. There are reasons to worry and wonder, and if you’re unconvinced or unsure that there are troubles in the world, you can always fall back on familiar, modern malaise or good old boredom. It’s so easy to worry, and it’s so easy to get bored. It’s easy to go dark.

But you shouldn’t do that. You should be excited. You should be ecstatic, overjoyed, energized, invigorated. You should be hopeful, because there are also reasons to feel hope, and if you’re down in the dumps about some pressing problem that’s threatening humanity — well, that should be a good reminder of how much work it takes to make things good.

Even in the roughest times, look for the good. Especially for those working to make it so.

Mr. Rogers called them the helpers.

I hope that, more often than not, I’m one of them.

Amen.