December 18, 7:00pm (Kevin Westling)
If we choose to suck on the straw of resentment, we will shrivel. If we choose to stroke the raw wounds of regret, we shrivel. If we choose to tremble in the shadow of fears, we shrivel. If we choose to hide in a prison of guilt, we shrivel. If we choose to grimace in secret isolation, we shrivel. If we choose to carry the globe upon our shoulders, we shrivel. If we choose to remain a victim, we shrivel. If we choose to warm ourselves on embers of blame, we shrivel. If we choose to insist the world play by our rules, we shrivel. If we choose to gargle with the bile of mistrust, we shrivel. If we choose to be rigid and unyielding, we shrivel.
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Trinity @ 7 Sermons
December 13, 2009
by Cam Miller
From Blossoms
BY LI-YOUNG LEE
“From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.
From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.
O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.”
Good evening.
“…O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard…”
It is too obvious to say,
really, it may sound ludicrous,
but whether we thrive or shrivel
may well depend upon our ability,
sometimes our shear will:
“…to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard,
…to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
You see, you and I, with some exceptions,
get to decide whether we thrive
or whether we shrivel.
I mean that literally,
as well as metaphorically and spiritually or any other way.
It is a decision on our part,
a click of the tumblers inside our brain,
that determines whether we thrive or shrivel.
If we choose to suck on the straw of resentment,
we will shrivel.
If we choose to stroke the raw wounds of regret,
we shrivel.
If we choose to tremble in the shadow of fears,
we shrivel.
If we choose to hide in a prison of guilt,
we shrivel.
If we choose to grimace in secret isolation,
we shrivel.
If we choose to carry the globe upon our shoulders,
we shrivel.
If we choose to remain a victim,
we shrivel.
If we choose to warm ourselves on embers of blame,
we shrivel.
If we choose to insist the world play by our rules,
we shrivel.
If we choose to gargle with the bile of mistrust,
we shrivel.
If we choose to be rigid and unyielding,
we shrivel.
Those are all choices.
We decide to do those things,
they are not foisted upon us.
Yes, we suffer.
Yes, we have pain.
Yes, we encounter rejection, disappointment, betrayal, deprivation, even violence and hatred.
Yes, the events of the day, both near and far,
trigger a wild spray of emotions that include
resentment
guilt
despair
fear
angst
regret
anger
mistrust
and even hatred.
We do not get to control the stimulus.
We do not get to control what happens in the world around us or even to us,
and we do not get to control our first knee-jerk
emotional response to the stimulus.
Our emotions work like a light switch –
something happens
they turn on.
Something doesn’t happen that was suppose to
they turn off…on…off.
Our emotions,
at least our initial reaction,
is a pure stimulus-response kind of program.
It is what happens next
that we get to choose.
We get to decide what to do with that emotion
and what stimulated it.
“…There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.”
You and I put death in the background most days.
We rarely think about death,
unless of course we are surrounded by it.
It would simply be too painful,
to frightening,
to grievous
to keep that mangy dog with foul breath on our lap all day.
So we choose,
most days, most of the time,
to keep death in the background.
That does not necessarily mean we are in denial,
it is possible to know and accept the reality of death
but choose to place it in the background
so that we can,
in the moment,
take what we love inside.
That is a choice most of us make all the time.
That is the choice I am talking about.
Bad shit happens to us,
and we do bad shit to other people.
It is possible to acknowledge that when it happens:
hold it with pure acceptance
and take any responsibility we may have had for it,
learn from it,
and place it in the background
and let it go.
We’re not trying to make it disappear
or pretend it never happened,
we are placing it in the background.
In a painting or photograph
the background provides the perspective.
In your life and mine,
the things that have happened provide perspective.
But in order to thrive instead of shrivel –
emotionally, spiritually, and relationally –
we must be able to choose
to place things that have happened
and even things that we know will happen,
in the background.
That is what it means to be in the moment.
O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
To thrive
we must be able to choose to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard of the things we love inside,
and to place all else in the background.
Sometimes that is difficult,
sometimes it is a cinch.
But what we must always remember
is that it is our choice.
Let’s light a candle this evening
to what we love…
to the orchard of what we love
that we carry inside.
