Big Fred, J.D., Amy, Abraham, Desmond, Elie, Bob and Friday Thoughts

Hi Everyone, 

There is a wonderful story in Dean Sluyter’s The Zen Commandments that goes like this: 

Big Fred

I used to have an upstairs neighbor, an old, overweight ex-boxer with bad knees, who worked as a janitor. Fred would generally come home with his groceries, a couple of six-packs, and a stack of lottery tickets while I was in the middle of my evening meditation; through my door I would hear his labored breathing and the clanking of his beer bottles as he struggled up the stairs. At first I tried to ignore it. Then, as the contradiction grew more embarrassing, came annoyance – I would jump up and help him, but resent the fact that my practice had once again been interrupted. Because I’m a slow learner, it took a few weeks before I realized, This is the practice. If I have to sit cross-legged on a cushion to experience boundlessness, that’s a boundary. Hauling beer up the stairs is the meditation, and Big Fred is the teacher.

Dean Sluyter concludes the story with this quote: 

“The only thing you can do now, the only religious thing you can do, is act. Act for God, if you want to – what could be prettier?” – J. D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey 

Life is taking action. What do I do? We all have thoughts (“The road to hell is paved with good intentions”), but what actions do we end up taking? I love the Amy Grant song “I Have Decided” with the chorus lines:

I have decided

I’m gonna live like a believer

Turn my back on the deceiver

I’m gonna to live what I believe.”

Also treasured is the Father of Nations, Abraham’s, answer to God’s calling, “Now it came to pass after these things that God tested Abraham, and said to him, “Abraham!” and he said, “Here I am.” (Genesis 22:1)

It’s a call to presence, to acceptance, to existence. To being available for a calling. Here I am. 

Like the meditation bell, it is a centering moment, that brings me back to reality. Back to my center, my inner voice, to the divine. A great way to start prayer. Here I am. 

So, what do we do right now? For ourselves, for our families, for our loved ones, neighbors, tennis partners, teammates, city, county, state, country, world? 

We stay healthy. We shelter in place. We physically distance, but socially connect. "Think globally, act locally."

And there is this:  

“A society will be judged by how it treats its weakest members.” 

This statement has been attributed to many sources, in various forms and versions: Mandela, Ghandi, Hubert Humphrey, Desmond Tutu, Harry Truman, Dostoyevsky have all uttered or written a version of this wisdom. 

At the time of those words being pronounced, each speaker was referring to the poor, and the disadvantaged. In these times, in 2020, we’re trying to take care of the people that are most vulnerable, and society’s weakest members means something quite different. 

The virus doesn’t care so much about your bank balance, the size of your house, or the amount of your salary, ... as your age, health, occupation and other factors (Of course, some of which is total dumb luck).  

How long will this all last? We don’t know. What can we do now? Live. Live what we believe. 

There will be a time in the future when activity will begin again at the Club, and we have started to discuss what that will look like. Of course, it is too early to tell what that date will be, or what the rules will be about activity, who, what, when, where, how, but we are planning ahead, in very general terms.

As for right now, we ring that meditation bell, we answer God, “Here I am”, and we do our best to do what is best for all of us, including the most vulnerable parts of our society. 

And we wait for our own, individual, uniquely personal, calling.

“I am a leader by default, because nature does not allow a vacuum.” – Desmond Tutu

Life calls us. Somewhere in your life, there is a Big Fred. Someone who you can help “carry the groceries,” or talk to on the phone, or lift up in a time of need. 

Elie Wiesel wrote a book once called Souls on Fire. It was a book of Portraits and Legends of Hasidic Masters. I just love that title. The image of that, the feeling of a soul on fire. Or as the NY Times review said, “How to live joyously when there are no answers.” Wiesel’s great life trauma was the Holocaust, but the point remains the same. Souls on Fire. 

And somewhere in your life, there is a blessing. Even now.

I remember the life story a minster of my church, and a good friend, once told me back in my mid 20s. He was in his sixties at the time, an elder, a guide, a mentor. It is this deeply treasured mini-autobiography that I share with you now.

In his own words, as I remember them, from all those years ago, when the world was young: 

I grew up in a very demanding household. An only child. My mother had very high expectations of me. In school, the standard was always top of the class: first chair, first row. Life was full of commandments. Ours was an old testament household. And you never could live up to the law.  

One of the things I had to do was take piano lessons. This older, gray-haired woman would come to my house each week and give me lessons. I wasn’t very good at piano, but this woman was accepting and loving, joyous, always encouraging, and despite everyone else’s disappointment with my musical progress, she was fine with me being right where I was. This was grace, this was acceptance. It was the one place, the onetime -- her sitting on that piano bench next to me -- that I felt that I was OK during my childhood, that I was loved for no reason, no deed, no accomplishment. Looking back, I realized it was Jesus sitting on that bench with me, loving me for who I am, teaching me about grace. At the time, I didn’t even recognize Him behind this kind woman’s face, or even thanked Him properly. 

I made a vow then, that I want to be that person, a person God lived though, for someone, some day. -- Bob St. Claire 

And Bob was for me. I always felt safe, loved, accepted with him. Grace and guidance. 

Christianity may not be your faith. But for this man, of this faith, this was a life-changing moment. 

For all of us, there are blessings everywhere, even in these dark times. Look for them, recognize them, love them, cherish them, believe in them. Accept them when they come, often from the most unexpected and surprising places. 

“Be grateful for whatever comes. 

Because each has been sent 

as a guide from beyond.”

 -- Rumi, The Guest House

Blessings, joy and happiness, 

-- Keith