return to all saints and sinners

Over the past two weeks I have experienced reconnecting with an enlivened version of an old friend; watching age and winter take a toll on Sophie, my 13 ½ year old Aussie; deepening a 30+ year friendship; the death of a friend; reigniting of a dream; listening to clients find and transform the causes of depression; bypassing politics in favor of heartfull conversations; healing wounds into scars; accepting invitations to create new endeavors; renovating my 50 (60?) year old bathroom; sitting in a cleared spot on my neighbor’s patio, sipping steaming coffee, soaking up the sunshine, bedazzled by falling snowflakes.  I haven’t thought much about sinners or saints.  Life moves along and we move with it or resist it; the choice is ours.

 Last night I watched the movie “Moll Flanders,” a British classic that I had never read nor viewed.  I was tempted to turn it off several times when our human capacity for cruelty and greed was so graphically portrayed.  But as in life, so in art, the scene changes.  Relationships are forged and broken; tragedy shapes characters; characters face immense obstacles; resilience saves, memory tortures, kindness emerges in least expected places.  Saints and sinners abound in every second of life unfolding.  Each character is never either/or but always both/and. Do you know this to be true?

I believe that this knowing is the peace that passes all understanding. Yesterday my neighbor said he’s tired of hearing the phrase “It is what it is” applied so nonchalantly and trivially.  It should be saved, he said, to help us come to terms with the really significant events and situations that we encounter; the ones that threaten to dislodge all that we believe to be true, when we can’t make sense of anything but must accept it anyway. Whether they seem to be random incidents or sudden jolts or slow unravelings, life usually doesn’t turn out the way we thought it would.  Coming to terms with life on its terms, does grant a measure of peace when we are ready and willing to accept it.

A Course in Miracles states, “all relationships must end in love.” This has nothing to do with external circumstances, apologies or their absence, unforgiveable acts, present torment, ancient wounds, inconsolable grief, festering anger, deepest regret, aching consciences.  All relationships must end in love – inside of me. When I can release judgment, forgiveness becomes a continuous act, joy abides and love always trumps hate.  This is our calling, our purpose, our reason to be.  The sinner – the one who misses the mark – constantly alive and constantly dying; the saint – the one in whom love abides – daily reborn.  When we are able to live in this space, even momentarily, we find ever more immediate opportunity to lengthen our stay, to be our calling, in our humanness and with our divine spark.