Chalice Lighting
“May all sentient beings be well and enjoy the root of happiness; free from suffering and the root of suffering. May they not be separated from the joy beyond sorrow. May they dwell in spacious equanimity free from craving, fear, and ignorance.”
Opening Words
“Meditation helps us to do one particular thing: to change. Meditation changes how we relate to the world. That’s why we do contemplation practice. In a sense, we are reeducating ourselves, not in some esoteric spiritual sense, but just as human beings. Meditation is the practice through which we really become human. We become decent and workable. We have caught ourselves – our habitual selves – and we begin to change the way we look at things.”
Sermon: Private Rituals - Meditation and the Kingdom Within
I believe that all religions have at their base a belief in a universal underlying reality and that all are one in this reality. It can be called God, Yahweh, Buddha, Inner Light, Atman, Oversoul or Great Spirit.
There are many ways to tap into this reality – worship rituals, celebrations, music, spiritual writings, sweat lodges – but the universal form is to meditate or pray. (I’m using the term prayer here in the sense of seeking God’s will or expressing gratitude, not of asking for a boon from God, for example, “Let us win this football game, this war, or this lottery.”) My exposure to meditation comes from attending silent Quaker meetings for worship and Buddhist meditation training. This morning I will be using some traditional Christian language as well as some Buddhist terminology; primarily, I will draw on Buddhist insights on meditation. I want to point out that I am speaking about only a small portion of Buddhist teaching and philosophy. This, by necessity, is but a sketchy overview. Also, I do not present myself as an ardent practitioner of meditation – mostly, I meditate a few times a week for five to twenty minutes – but I do believe meditation makes a difference in my day when I practice it.
The first time I remember having what I call a mystical experience – or a state of profound happiness – was when I was a young girl. I was alone, sitting in a grove of trees with the sunlight streaming through a tangle of leaves, casting a golden glow over the earth. I was swept up in a feeling of peace, the wonder of life and a sense of unity with the universe. I think of this experience as transcendence – dare I say a presence of the holy spirit. At such times, my heart bursts with gratitude for the glory of living. I am free of the limitations of my ego and the nitty-gritty of daily life. As my life has gone on, I’ve had this experience again, perhaps more frequently as I’ve grown older because I not only seek it out but I also no longer have the distractions of jobs and children. I have had this experience particularly when I’ve been immersed with nature. But it can also occur during a worship service, listening to music, absorbing remarkable beauty, making love, a birth, a particularly moving group experience. The hallmark of this experience is gratitude and sense of peace and oneness with all. I believe these differentiates this feeling from Maslow’s peak experience, which more nearly describes flow during an endeavor a person undertakes, although both involve the forgetting of ego and passage of time. I also want to point out that this experience doesn’t necessarily lead to spiritual growth or goodness of character. I define spiritual growth as the decrease of greed, envy, anger, and self-absorption and an increase in feelings of oneness with all living things. Likewise, people of good character haven’t necessarily experienced transcendence. However, transcendence for me and for others is a glimpse of heaven. It is a spark that needs the fuel of discipline and guidance to ignite and sustain itself.
Buddhism and Christianity both strive to cultivate this experience of transcendence – seemingly from opposite positions. Buddhists seek the “island within,” while Christians reach out to God. A book by John Stanford, an Episcopalian priest, titled The Kingdom Within makes the case that perhaps Jesus was also describing the inner world as a holy place or kingdom of heaven. According to Mathew, Jesus said, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field….” [Matthew 13:44] Stanford points out “that while man’s ego is the center of his conscious life, man also has a vast unconscious life which we can call ‘the inner world.’” [p 21] Stanford says, “Bereft of a living, inwardly directed religion, men in their desperation, turn to drugs, alcohol, even war, as a means of escape from their inner isolation … For the less structure men have within themselves, the more they will desperately seek to find it outside themselves.” [p18]
I sometimes envision the Inner Light, Great Spirit, God, or Yahweh as an electric field. Individuals can choose to flip the switch to get power or not, but the field is there just the same. Stanford uses the analogy of a well at his family home. Over the years, through all extremes of weather, the well always provided clear fresh water. When modern plumbing and running water were installed, the family stopped using the well and covered it. Years later, Stanford checked the well and found it had gone dry. Only with frequent use did the water continue to run. Similarly, cultivating the path of the spirit requires on-going practice and commitment. Meditation is to the inner world as the bucket is to the well water.
Meditation or prayer not only is the backbone of religion but also enables physical remediation and is increasingly recommended by health professionals as an antidote to stress, high blood pressure, depression and other physiological problems. Even more astounding: The Washington Post recently reported on a study conducted by the University of Wisconsin that evaluated the brain waves of Buddhist monks during meditation. Increased brain activity was clearly evident in the left frontal cortex, the seat of happiness and positive emotions and thoughts. How incredible! There is actually a physical difference in the brain of mediators with lasting physical and emotional effects.
There are differing methods in meditation. Buddhists start by concentrating one’s breath going in and out. The purpose is to focus and control the mind – the “monkey mind” that endlessly jumps around. Quakers sit quietly in a group, seeking the voice of God within. It usually takes 15 to 20 minutes to achieve what Quakers call a “gathered meeting” in which members have wordlessly achieved harmony of spiritual thought. The secular “Relaxation Response” teaches sitting, deliberately relaxing body parts, repeating an “Ommm” sound or a phrase chosen by participants. All methods emphasize clearing the mind of its routine round of worries, desires, and grievances – of “letting all striving cease” so as to reach an altered “inner state.” At its best, this state eventually produces a feeling of oneness with all sentient (living) things, the universe and the spiritual world. The ego loses some of its domination and lets go of its round of concerns. The heart is opened to the pulsing cacophony of all life. It becomes more feasible to “Love your neighbor as yourself,” to “Respect the worth and dignity of each human being” to “Bow to the Buddha within,” or to “Seek the God within all.” Buddhists call this “loving kindness.” This profound state of ecstasy does not usually happen, but even a brief period of deep meditation seems to have the temporary effect of extending a feeling of peace and well-being and a heightened awareness of the beauty and joy in everyday things.
Let’s try a few moments of meditation. We’ll start with a simple breathing in and breathing out. Then I’ll recite a verse I find useful in focusing my breath.
Relax; be comfortable. Become aware of the bare sensation of the breath in your body. The sensation of the breath as it enters your nose or mouth – the sensation of the breath at the back of your throat – the sensation of the breath as it enters your lungs – and the sensation of the breath as it leaves your body. Again, thoughts, feelings, and other sensations will arise. Simply let them go, or gently note them and let them go, and return to the bare awareness, the bare sensations of breath in your body.
Breathing in – I’m a flower.
Breathing out – I feel fresh.
Breathing in – I’m a mountain.
Breathing out – I feel solid.
Breathing In – I am water.
Breathing out – Reflecting what is real, what is true.
Breathing in – I have a space deep within me.
Breathing out – I am free, I am free.
As with any endeavor, the initial attempts are difficult and sometimes even boring. But with regular practice, skill increases and thus so do the pleasures and rewards. Each practice produces incremental steps towards the goal. A person doesn’t learn to speak a new language or to play a new instrument or even gain the benefits of brushing teeth without regularity. Thus it is with meditation. There are good sittings and listless sittings, but each strengthens meditation skills.
An adjunct to meditation that Buddhists particularly emphasize is awareness. The path starts with concentrating on one’s own breathing then slowly expanding the focus of awareness to one’s body, sensations, the too-often overlooked details of life that surrounds us such as the taste of a certain food, the smell of a fresh breeze or the sound of an insect. How rich life becomes with awareness in the moment! One simple recommended devise is to pause at the sound of a telephone ring and to become aware. Perhaps this is what is meant by Christian mystics as “pray without ceasing.” Lighting a candle at sunset or holding hands before eating are other examples of rituals that can be followed.
Along with awareness of the moment – or mindfulness, as the Buddhists call it – gratitude is also a step to the kingdom within. A number of years ago, a popular book called Simple Abundance came out, along with a handbook in which to write daily three things one is thankful for. I was recovering from a hip replacement and was extremely limited in my mobility for several months. Writing down three things each day became a spiritual discipline that has reaped many rewards. Some of the things I noted were the progression of beautiful rhododendron blossoms outside my window, the savory tastes of food, the kindness of friends, the beauty of the faces of my family, nesting birds, scampering squirrels.
I love to kayak. I’m not talking about white water or speeding, just me and my small, humble vessel paddling along. I find the closeness to the water, the leisurely pace, and the ability to be close to shore and wildlife a deep spiritual experience. Life is a bit like the difference between racing along in a motorboat and paddling a kayak. One gets you somewhere faster, but doesn’t allow time to truly see the world around you.
While meditation, mindfulness and gratitude can lead to a feeling of inner peace and well-being, they are not the totality of the kingdom within. Compassion, wisdom, and tolerance are equally vital attributes. “The function of meditation practice is to heal and transform,” states Anh-Huong Nguyen, a disciple of Thich Nhat Hanh and teacher of meditation at Fairfax UU. Buddhism teaches not to deny or to repress negative feelings but rather to encourage and enhance positive feelings of compassion, peace and joy.
Recently our newest grandson was baptized in an Episcopal church and the priest gave a homily on what Episcopalians call the “Peace be with you” ritual. The priest recounted Jesus’ reaction to his disciples after they denied knowing him following his capture at the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus didn’t chastise them or say that he forgave them. Instead, he said “Peace be with you.” How marvelous! In essence, he said that neither shame nor groveling would help, but that only with spiritual growth would they find release from guilt.
George Fox, the pacifist founder of Quakerism in 17th Century England, was asked by a newly converted gentleman of social standing, “How long can I wear my sword?” Fox replied, “For as long as thou can’st,” implying that with spiritual growth he would shun the mark of privilege and power.
The practice of meditation, gratitude and mindfulness are steps in spiritual growth. They are building blocks to a constant approach to the business of living and dying. Jack Kornfield, an American Buddhist, wrote a book titled After the Ecstasy, the Laundry. Its message is clear; a lovely mystical experience will always – must always – be followed by the mundane. People still need to cope with the business of everyday living. One must still deal with chores, money, family, irritating people, illness, and world conflicts, but the fact that meditation demonstrably changes the brain’s chemistry so that feelings of kindness, well-being and positive outlook are enhanced surely indicates that the quest is worth the effort.
I wrote the bulk of this discussion before my husband Den and I left for an extended trip to visit relatives in New England, timed so that we could also attend the wedding of the son of Den’s very ill brother. Much to the horror of all, Den’s brother collapsed and died as he was wheeled into the church sanctuary moments before the ceremony was to start. Needless to say, a very difficult and extraordinarily emotional time followed. I felt sad, shocked and adrift; I did not meditate. I felt hypocritical even thinking about this morning’s service. About three days later, amidst all the grieving, planning and concerns for arriving family, I slipped away and went to a near-by Buddhist retreat center. I sat over looking a pond and meditated. I walked in the woods and practiced mindfulness. Some equilibrium returned; life still had beauty. Sorrow wasn’t banished, but I had regained an inner peace – the joy beyond sorrow.
Before leaving, I picked up a copy of the Retreat Center’s newsletter. It contained an article by Buddhist Acharya Bower in which she examines the value of meditation in facing debilitating illness and death. In essence, she states that such times are too late to practicing meditation. When sick, weak or on medication, a person is too spaced out to meditate. Even Jesus on the cross said, “My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?” Buddhist Tara Brach reiterates, “From the vantage point of ‘end of life’ what will matter was that today, this moment, was filled with wakefulness and care.” My son-in-law wears a T-shirt that reads, “The journey is the destination.” Meditation or prayer does not solve the problems and puzzles of life, but it can build a foundation of equanimity, inner calm, and a peace with which to deal with them.
There is a well-known story about a Buddhist monk who is being chased by a hungry, angry lion. The monk ran and ran until he came to a cliff. Down below was a river filled with hungry crocodiles. The monk nevertheless jumped. As he was falling to his doom, he spotted a strawberry growing in the side of the cliff. He plucked the strawberry, ate it and said, “How delicious!”
I would like to conclude with a meditation called the Lovingkindness Metta. This metta starts with oneself, then addresses a person one loves, a person one is neutral towards, a difficult person, then all sentient beings. Relax; be comfortable. Be aware of breathing in and breathing out.
Breathing in – May I be filled with lovingkindness.
Breathing out – May I be healthy in mind.
Breathing in – May I be healthy in body.
Breathing out – May I be filled with peace and well-being.
Now think of a person you love (and repeat the metta).
Breathing in – May you be filled with loving – kindness.
Breathing out – May you be healthy in mind.
Breathing in – May you be healthy in body.
Breathing out – May you be filled with peace and well-being.
Now think of a person you’re neutral towards (and repeat the metta).
Think now of a difficult person (and repeat the metta).
Now repeat the metta, sending loving-kindness to all sentient beings.
Peace be with you.
Benediction
We receive fragments of wholeness, glimpses of eternity, brief moments of insight. Let us gather them up for the precious gifts that they are and, renewed by their grace, boldly move into the unknown.
Peace be with you.