Spirituality is the key

I am not a religious person. Spiritual, yes. I pray daily. But I have no church, no sacred text, no eccentrically clad officials telling me how to talk to God (or that he’s a he).

However, I do benefit (and think everyone else should too) from the religious wisdom of many faiths. The Catholic prayer of St. Francis is something I grew up with, but never really appreciated until now. It has inspired me to philosophy that, in light of current world events that I trust I need not describe for the 10 quintillionth time, I’d like to share. I have questions-unsettling ones. They are questions I can’t answer. Perhaps you can help me.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

It’s our responsibility to create it, to live it, to spread it. Without it we destroy ourselves and truly become nothing but an empty and insignificant speck in the vast silence of space. Our universe is by its nature violent. Can we rise above the inertia of the cosmos to create a pinpoint of serenity amidst the stars and galaxies erupting in destruction all around us? Can our potential for peace give meaning to the life and death of a tiny planet? Or is violence too inherent to human nature? It’s everywhere, in all times and cultures, in an infinite variety of forms. But one other human characteristic is just as enduring, and maybe even more powerful.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Hatred is a symptom of the diseases of ignorance and blindness. These diseases are curable, and, better yet, preventable. We hate only because we learn to. To love is in our nature. Children are born to do it. Can we create a world where we live by our love, where we let it drive us?

Where there is injury, pardon.

Maybe there are atrocities that are unforgivable … but maybe not. Maybe nothing is beyond our capacity to forgive, we simply choose not to. Without pardon, we trap ourselves in an endless cycle of suffering. Vengeance is for the weak, retaliation for the uninspired. Can we harness the strength of forgiveness to save ourselves? Do we have the will to take responsibility for ending pain, even if it hurts to do so?

Where there is doubt, faith.

My faith in humanity has been damaged, perhaps irreparably. Were the signs on the walls of my elementary school right? If I believe it, can I make it happen? I believe that we have the power to make our world safe for all of us. I believe that we can heal. I believe that the best we are capable of as a species can far outweigh the worst. Believe it with me. Is our belief enough?

Where there is despair, hope.

When we give up we are doomed. Cynicism is of no use to us now. But despair is inevitable … how do we fight it? How do we act when it seems as though nothing we do will make any difference? What would inspire hope in you?

Where there is darkness, light.

Collusion is comfortable. It’s easier for us not to see, and we are helped by everyone around us who is unable or unwilling to open his or her eyes. The darkness is dense, and millions upon millions have no light. Do we have the strength to see? Are we afraid of what may be revealed?

Where there is sadness, joy.

This is the point of the whole thing after all, isn’t it? Everyone should have a reason to laugh. Everyone should know what pure happiness, real happiness, feels like. Happiness should be a contagion that infects every person on the planet, and everyone should have access to what it takes to make themselves happy. Is joy worth fighting for? Or worth not fighting for?

Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console.

Our country is the biggest, the best, the luckiest in the world. However much we suffer, we still have much to offer those who may never know our success. Can we find comfort through reaching out to others?

To be understood as to understand.

It seems instinctive for us to defend ourselves immediately upon threat of blame. Our first reaction is to try to offset it. We scream our innocence with angry voices, however gross the error or just the calls for ownership of wrongs. How far can we get this way? Can we overcome gut reaction and find the ability to see with the eyes of others? Do we want to live in a manner that excludes the vision of those with whom we disagree?

To be loved as to love.

Everybody wants love. I would submit that we in fact need it to live life. How do we negotiate the continuum of loving and being loved? It takes courage to love through fear. It takes a powerful heart to love without any expectation of love being returned. Do we really gain love by giving it away? If that’s the case, our great nation might consider whether it will accept a loveless existence. We’re not known for distributing a lot of it in the global scene. It’s free, it’s easy to ship, it goes anywhere and works miracles. Would anyone take the idea of exporting love seriously?

For it is in giving that we receive.

And we have so very much to give. Each of us can offer some part of ourselves toward a worthwhile goal, and watch a chain reaction of reconciliation, restoration and growth take place. Our current pursuit of self-interested goals appears dangerous and foolhardy. Do we have much to gain from selfishness? Is taking worth the risk?

And it is in pardoning that we are pardoned.

Can we forgive the rest of the world for being smaller, poorer, and hungrier than we are? Many disadvantaged nations look to us for leadership and model themselves on our goals and values. What kind of example do we want to set? Will the world forgive us for being who we are? Should they? What do we have to forgive ourselves for?

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

We know almost absolutely that human life on this Earth has a finite, determined point at which it ends. How do we make sense of this? The victims of the aforementioned recent world events have achieved a sort of immortality. Everyone, for generations to come, will know their stories and will celebrate their memories. Heroes of the past that have touched and shaped the future have made contributions to eternity. In this way, they live forever. In uncertain times, where our planet and our civilization face such extreme and often intangible threats, how do we ensure the sanctity of our future? What can we do now to guarantee that our grandchildren will have no further use for bombs, but will breathe clean air and be proud of the Earth we have left them?

I realize I’m being lofty and abstract, and expecting near-angelic attributes of beings that are, after all, only human. But maybe we decide what it means to be human. Maybe we define our own existence, and maybe, just maybe, we have it in us to listen to Francis of Assisi’s words and make them reality.

Can I get an Amen?