A Meditation on Ecclesiastes 3:1-15

God has planted eternity
in the human heart,
but even so, people cannot see
the whole scope of God’s work
from beginning to end … 

Ecclesiastes 3:11b (NLT)

Life is hard to live
when the future is unknown …
Yet the future is always
unknown … uncertain … unreachable
In the depths of my mind

I strive against the order of life
And fret over things I can never know
I hesitate for fear of becoming
Hemmed in and trapped
In a future not created for me

Always torn between what was
and what is to come
Always waiting
for the end of a moment
that closes one thought
And begins another
Always another thought
In the story of life
That goes on … and on … and on
Always changing
Never stopping

I can’t catch my breath
For the wind of change
continues to move
I can’t get my bearings
For I’m pulled into the vortex
of churning emotions …
I can’t find myself
Till my soul reaches out
And pulls me into
The dark of the deep

“Be still” she whispers
as I enter her spaces
sweet silence surrounds me
as her peace enters my chaos
and seeps into each corner
of my wounded being

© January 2007 Cindy Serio

we are three, you are three ...

‘We are three, you are three, have mercy on us.”

Anthony de Mello in The Song of the Bird tells of a bishop whose ship had anchored at a remote island.  Since he only had one day there, the bishop was determined to use the time profitably. 

He strolled along the seashore and came across three fishermen, mending their nets.  In broken English, they explained to him that their village had been converted to Christianity by missionaries centuries before.  “We Christians!” they proudly proclaimed.  The bishop was impressed.  But, in talking some more, he discovered that they had never even heard of the Lord’s Prayer.  The bishop was shocked.  “What, then, do you SAY when you pray?” 

 “We lift eyes to heaven and say, ‘We are three, you are three, have mercy on us.” 

The bishop was appalled.  This would never do.  In fact, it sounded almost…heretical.  So the bishop spent the whole day teaching them the Lord’s Prayer.  And, even though the fishermen were slow learners, they were finally able to struggle through it before the bishop sailed away the next day. 

Months later, the bishop’s ship happened to pass by that same island.  The bishop paced the deck, recalling with pleasure the three men who were now able to pray, thanks to his patient efforts.  But while he was lost in his thoughts, he happened to look up, noticing a spot of light to the east.  The light kept approaching the ship and, as the bishop gazed in wonder, he saw three figures walking on the water.  The captain, too, was amazed and he stopped the boat so everyone could see.  When they got within speaking distance, the bishop recognized the three fishermen.

“Bishop!” they exclaimed.  “We see your boat go by the island, so we come to see you.”   “What do you want?” asked the awestruck bishop.  “Bishop,” they said.  “We are very sorry.  We forget lovely prayer.  We say, ‘Our Father, in heaven, holy be your name….’ Then we forget.  Please tell us prayer again.” 

With a quiet voice, the bishop answered, “Go back to your homes, my friends.  And each time you pray, say,

‘We are three, you are three, have mercy on us.”

I first read a similar story several years ago in Richard Foster's Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home.  Foster attributed the story to Leo Tolstoy.  Upon researching this lovely story I found that Tolstoy wrote a story called Three Hermits in 1886.  In Tolstoy's story, the Bishop says, "You have evidently heard something about the Holy Trinity.  But you do not pray right." 


How often I am with people who pray with so many words and I want to say ... "stop talking!"   At the same time I often feel like I don't "pray right" because I don't pray with so many words ... I need simplicity to hear the whispers of God.  And even more deeply ... I ache to feel God's presence deep within my soul when I am still.   Yet even then I cannot capture the depth of this unceasing prayer ... within this story I hear a call to experience the unceasing presence of God in all of life ... so as I contemplate the "Three in One" who is also "One in Three" ... I wonder and I pray ...

I am one, You are One, have mercy on me!

 The symbol of the Trinity

The trinity symbol is one of the most famous symbols from the Celtic heritage.  The first trinity symbols appeared in Celtic writings for decorative purposes and space-filling.  Christians took the symbol and used it to mean the Holy Trinity - Creator, Word and Spirit.   In the first century CE, when the followers of Christianity were persecuted by Romans, they went underground and used the symbol of a fish to identify each other. One would draw half a fish in the sand, and if the other drew the remaining half of the fish, they would identify each other as followers of Jesus, the One who calls us to be "fishers of people."  If you look closely at the trinity symbol you can see Christian "fish" embedded within.

prayer by t s eliot

blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden, suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood.  teach us to care and not to care.  teach us to be still even among these rocks.   our peace in god's will and even among these rocks.  sister, mother and spirit of the river, spirit of the sea, suffer me not be separated ...

and let my cry come to you

t s eliot (1888-1965)

living water ...

While Jesus was standing there, he cried out,
“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, 
and let the one who believes in me drink.  
As the scripture has said,
‘Out of the believer’s heart  shall flow rivers of living water.’ ” 
Now he said this about the Spirit, which believers in him were to receive …  

John 7:37b-39a

Water is a powerful symbolic image.  In this passage of Scripture, Jesus uses water as a symbol for the Spirit of God.   I am drawn to Water as a symbol of the Spirit of God drawing different and diversely-gifted people together to form the Body of Christ.

In his book, Steams of Living Water, Richard Foster inspires a beautiful vision of wholeness in the spiritual life.   Using the imagery of water, he articulates six great “Traditions” or ways of living which manifest the spiritual life. He calls them streams and urges one to imagine them flowing together into a mighty river.  He says “in our day God is bringing together a mighty Mississippi of the Spirit.”     It would be easy to race through the book with a mind to label the boxes we put one another in with yet another name which would only serve to keep us drinking the water in our own stream.    However, Foster encourages us to slow down and explore each of these great traditions with an open heart and an open mind for each one presents an aspect of Christian living that can holistically enhance not just our own life but the collective life of the Body of Christ where our differences are respected and diverse spiritual disciplines are practiced as a means to an end rather than just an end in and of themselves.  How many times have I woken up from a chaotic state of being and asked myself

“Why am I doing this – to what end?”   

In longing to answer this universally asked question about the purpose of life, those who float peacefully in the Contemplative Stream might have “becoming one with God” as the desire of their prayer-filled life.   Those who swim daily laps faithfully in the Holiness Stream might have “becoming a person of Godly character” as the object of their virtuous life.   Those who splash joyfully in the Charismatic Stream might have “becoming supernaturally connected to God” as the target of their spirit-empowered life.   Those who fight against the waves in the Social Justice Stream might have “becoming one who sees God in all people” as the aim of their compassionate life.   Those who swim underwater with eyes wide open in the Evangelical Stream might have “becoming one who has spiritual understanding of God” as the ambition of their Word-centered life.   Those who dive deeply in the Incarnational Stream might have “becoming true to the image of God within oneself” as the aspiration of their sacramental life.     Each of these dimensions of the spiritual quest could be freely and forcefully articulated by one through whom the Spirit manifests the presence of God.  

However, if we look deeper we can see that even these goals may fall short of the wholeness of a life lived in that mighty Mississippi of the Spirit if one does not drink deeply of the living water in a different stream, at least once in awhile.   As human beings driven to the supreme mastery of creation, I believe we can become caught up in the pursuit of one way of being to the exclusion of all others.  In some cases this may produce a narrow worldview leading one to believe their way is the only way and sometime to demand that all others follow their way or be swimming in a sea of lost souls!   It may even be possible to find this close-minded attitude underneath a thin veneer of tolerance in one who, while not actively opposing it, refuses to engage in any spiritual practice that is unknown, unfamiliar, and/or uncomfortable.

I've been splashing around aimlessly more times than I care to count ... it is truly a deep, dark, dry place to be, for me ... a place where I am drowning in a sea of self-pity and strife within.  It is a place where I cannot breath, cannot speak, cannot drink ... fighting to make my way up to the surface in order to keep from drowning in my excruciating thirst for God ... again the question cries out in my soul,

“Why am I doing this – to what end?”

Jesus replied, “If you only knew the gift God has for you 

and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, 

and I would give you living water ...

those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. 

It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life.”

John 4:10 and 14

Poetry by Rilke

I just got back from a Kairos Prison Ministry Inside at the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women. I am full of emotions and yet devoid of feeling.  It was very powerful but overwhelming at the same time.  I am suffering from the lack of process time I have left myself.  My friend Jeanna prayed and anointed me at our Service of Wholeness tonight and I cried for the women who have touched my heart.

As I remember this poem by Rilke I find myself gripped in its melancholic sense of trust as I struggle to surrender long enough to taste the consolation of God ...and remember the women who have touched my heart.      Lord have mercy ... Christ have mercy ...

A Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. by Br. David Steindl-Rast

Every now and then we let ourselves imagine 

the worst that could happen to us: 

How could we survive?  

This testimony of dedication and trust 

attests to an enduring relationship 

that goes beyond our vision, 

our hearing, 

our speech, 

our mobility, 

and even our ability to think...

a relationship which cannot be extinguished. 

In the sureness of this relationship – 

and our ability to surrender to it – 

lies consolation beyond measure.

The Shakespeare Garden

Today I walked in the Shakespeare Garden at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary (G-ETS), which is where I have spent so many weeks here and there reading and studying and writing for a long list of classes.  Since I graduated in 2009 I have been back a couple of times and it always makes me feel a sense of peace.

After Hurricane Katrina in 2005, G-ETS was the only stable place in my life.  I was living part-time in Houston, part-time in New Orleans, and part-time visiting my daughter who was in boarding school and sitting with my mom who was in the process of dying.  My life was highly unstable ... on any given day I could find myself in any of these places.  I lived out of a suitcase for about 6 months.  Yet in the midst of all of the chaos, GET-S was there and for 2 week intervals I was able to leave my life behind.  I like to study and I like to write and I like the silence found in a gentle garden.  When I "found" the Shakespeare Garden one summer day, I was mesmerized by its beauty.

When I got here, I rushed to see if there was life yet in the garden ...

there were red flowers

and purple flowers

and the most gorgeous yellow flowers

And o what a shower 

of little pink flowers

emerge in the silence of a cool spring day ...

 

rounding the corner ... 

what joy and delight to find this furry little bunny ...

my friend on the journey ... 

may your day be filled with silence and flowers 

and gentle surprises ... Peace, Cindy

A Prayer for Easter Sunday

God of New Beginnings ... In Christ you take all of our sorrow and transform us into people of contentment.  You take our wounds and heal them so that we are whole human beings.  Take away any resentment that we may have against those who have wounded us.  Forgive us for any wounds that we have caused and help us to make amends.  While we do not take joy in the pain of the world, we rejoice in the potential for growth as the Spirit comforts and guides us.  We believe you resurrected Jesus and gave us all new life after all of the pain and suffering he endured because of your love for us.  We believe we can rise with Christ into new life today and every day as we serve you and welcome your reign in this world.  Fill our lives with the light of Christ so that others may know that you live!  Amen. Hallelujah!

A Saturday Reflection for an Easter Vigil ...

Several years ago I was on vacation with my husband, Joe.  On this very sunny and warm day, we were walking down a busy street in San Antonio, Texas.  There were so many people ... desperately trying to get where they were going and so were we.  I walked by a homeless man who was calling out, "a dollar, please just a dollar ..."  Yet, I walked by but then ... I stopped about a block down the way.  In that world of hustling and bustling, for just a moment, the world stood still for me. 

I pulled out my wallet and looked inside.  I had a $1 bill and a $20 bill and a choice to make.  So ... what do you think I did?   I chose the $1 bill ... hey, that is what he asked for.  I gave my handbag to Joe and said, "I'll be back in a minute."  He just stood there patiently while I ran off on another tangent.  He is used to it.  I walked back to that particular homeless man and reached out my hand with the $1 bill, feeling rather pleased with myself at all my effort and good intentions.  At the very moment of my most inner self-glorification, this homeless man looked deep into my soul as he said in one of the kindest voices I have ever heard, "God bless you, lady."  He meant it.  I knew it.  And the fingers of shame crawled up the back of my neck as I tingled all over.  

I couldn't get this particular homeless man out of my mind nor my heart.  Obviously I still can't!  As Joe slept peacefully that afternoon, I prayed with all of the mixed emotions churning inside me ... and I wrote in my journal.

As I meditated on the Gospel reading for Easter Day, which is John 20:1-18, suddenly I remembered my conversation with God ... and I proclaim with Mary, "I have seen the Lord!"   I hope you enjoy this excerpt from my journal ... and the drawing that emerged in my time of meditation today. 

A Homeless Man

There was a homeless man

There’s always a homeless man!

A man without a name

you gave a dollar
you walked away

Sweet conviction overwhelms me

I can’t hear your voice

I know not what to do

a man…sitting
you…standing
in front of McDonald’s
could you not have 

walked him in
bought a meal
sat awhile
heard his story 
listened to him 
loved him
that man 

is special 

to Me
that man 

could have been 

special 

to you

He was…  He is…

not enough

not nearly 

enough

Regrets…Dreams…

Confusion…Chaos

The need is so great

I have no answers

Yet I know you call…me

“I can’t” too often my response  

prepare yourself

be ready  

for when I call

there is  

always an answer
always a path 

to follow
if you will seek
you will find

the Name is Jesus © 2004 Cindy Foster Serio

© 2010 Cindy Foster Serio

Holy Friday

Is it possible to drown

in my sorrow and grief

Is it possible to cry a river

and go underneath

never to resurface

Is it possible the grief abides within

a constant companion

Is it possible I cannot be

who I am

without my sorrow

 © 2004 Cindy Foster Serio

Holy Thursday

Jesus, my Lord and friend
Are you going to wash my feet?
Dusty, dirty, tired and bare
It’s much too hard to receive
Your tender love and gentle care
Jesus, my Teacher and companion
Are you going to cleanse my soul?
Musty, fearful, lonely and dark
It’s much too hard to reveal
Who I am in reality so stark
Jesus, my redeemer and savior 
© 2010 Cindy Foster Serio