On guilt and practicing faithfulness

This morning I left midweek meeting for worship a little bit later than I expected, and realized I’d be half an hour late for work. I stepped on the gas, eh, a little speeding won’t hurt much. I paused and reconsider my “slow down for peace, save oil save lives” sticker. Why did I put that on anyway, it’s sometimes so hard to slow down…

Well, what harm would it do me to not speed to work? In fact, it could do significant harm to speed to work. Haste is violence. (attributed to Gandhi) Driving too fast makes me agitated, makes me rush. I enter work out of breath and feeling guilty. Guilt is a pretty self-centered way of being, really. Focused on my own self, actions and mistakes, and over-focused on my impact on the world. Less aware, then, on the people and situations that I encounter. How many times have I rushed in somewhere, apologetic and focused on my tardiness that I have failed to notice the sorrow, pain, joy, or other significant state that my friend is in?

Guilt is not a good motivator.

Not that I should take my mistakes lightly. I should take seriously my commitment to live life in accordance with God’s will, making appropriate choices throughout my day. Of course I will fail, intentionally or unintentionally. But when I recognize my failure, better not dwell in guilt, and distract from the other things God has in mind for me today! Better to quickly and fully acknowledge my failure. Apologize to God and to all affected by my shortcoming, including myself! Make whatever amends or other clean-up is necessary, and seek forgiveness. Then I can put it behind me, and continue seeking to follow God more closely.

Failing to make quick work of failure I think is what made things with The Wounded Friendship so difficult. I was doing a lot of living in guilt, and not apologizing, facing and fixing the problems, and especially not moving on. Guilt festers, paralyzes, and gets in the way of the Light.

Wednesday, Dec 21

Why do I vigil?

We held a vigil Monday night to pray for the four Christian Peacemakers being held hostage in Iraq. Who are the Christian Peacemakers? Christian Peacemaker Teams sends peace activists to warzones as a voice for peace. They are not missionaries, and they are not aid workers. They are listeners. In Iraq, the Peacemakers are there to listen to Iraqis, to bring back stories that the news doesn't tell. They relate human to human to the people most affected by the war. And they are a visible presence for peace in a land devastated by war.

Like our troops, Christian Peacemakers feel so strongly about their beliefs that they are willing to put their lives on the line in work that will bring the world closer to their vision.
These are the Christians that were kidnapped and are being held under threat of execution by the Swords of Righteousness Brigade--a previously unknown group. As a Quaker and as a Pacifist, this is the news story that has brought the war closest to home for me. I know people who have done this witness for peace, and I know people who know the hostages. As I began to pray for the hostages, I realized that the hostages are no more or less deserving of prayer than their captors, than the soldiers, than the Iraqis they are there to witness, or than you or me. All of our lives are precious.

We all have our AHA! moments--somehting that brings this war closer to home. No matter what your politics are, this war affects you. You know people in Iraq. You know people whose lives are at risk, and even those who have lost their lives. Monday night was an opportunity for those of us who were having another AHA! moment: the costs of war are great and tragic. How can we go on with business as usual when loved ones and strangers are risking everything for us? Take a moment, and pray or reflect on the gravity of the war. Whatever your politics, remember the costs. And pray that we can stop paying such a high price soon.

Still open for business

I've been pretty good since I've been back from WGYF about reading Quaker stuff (& even sometimes the bible) before bed, and first thing in the morning. Praying in the car too. But I've been disappointed in my ability to sit and listen and hear God.
I think I've been judging that too much--beating myself up a bit for not being closer to the Source.

This morning after reading some of Thomas Kelly's The Eternal Now, I sat a little bit. And I/God asked myself/me why I am so afraid. Or fearful. (* At the time I took that as meaning toward my life events, or how I walk in the world, but in writing, I wonder if it was about worshipping privately. More on that another time perhaps...)

And my response was that everything is changing in my life, everything is new and different in some way: work, school, home even. The way I choose to spend my time-- less dance, less festivals. Less drinking in the evening and more study--be it Quaker or Library. And so much change at once is exhausting.

I don't think its coincidence that a huge sea of change has swept over me right back from WGYF. Perhaps lots of the changes would be happening anyway, but they wouldn't align themselves, or rather, wouldn't be felt by me so much as a sea of change.

This morning (a few minutes ago) it was clear to me that part of me is still torn wide open. Even a month later, the wide opening I experienced in Lancaster hasn't fully closed up. Although I go through my daily mundane/worldly activities, I'm still experiencing some of all of it from a place of deep, vulnerable, intense openness.

And without the support of a community experiencing it all the same way.

So when I get a littlest email from a WGYFer I feel the love and support and it is huge.

And here I thought my reading of Kelly's Eternal Now was overly cerebral/theoretical! Am I there a little more than I realized?

So to those who read these words, I love you. Thank you for sharing these steps of the journey.


--handwritten at Rote Farm on Friday 9/23/05