reflections on education, business and spirituality
“People are not naturally cruel. They become cruel when they are unhappy — or when they succumb to an ideology.
If religious people had always followed the instinct of their heart rather than the logic of their religion, we would have been spared the sight of heretics burning at stakes, widows walking into funeral pyres, and millions of innocent people slaughtered in wars that are waged in the name of God.
Compassion has no ideology.”
— Anthony de Mello
Spirituality for me has become something very personal. It is not measured in how often I go to church or how involved I am in its activities. I used to think that way though, but no longer. Spirituality is in the moment. It is in the now. If you are not spiritual now, then you cannot be more spiritual in church (although it may feel that way). Spirituality is not a result of actions but comes by just being silent and still inside. It is an inner knowing of who you are — and a constant gratitude and celebration of your being.
When I was in high school (and still very much involved in church activities), I encountered a poem that I didn’t quite agree with at that time. But there was something in it that called to me. I kept that poem and even used it when I was teaching English literature a few years back. Reading it again now, I think I’ve come to understand it better, and I know why it called to me — because that was how I really felt in my soul.
Here’s the poem.
SUNDAY MORNING
by Oscar Peñaranda
Here I am again
sitting alone in my car
nostrils and mouth sucking wafts
of wind rushing through open side windows
on a cliff hanging over the bay there is
music from the radio
that green monster of a gelatin sea
kisses white tongues of foam kneeling
to lick the shore serenading the lone
oak tree
atop the jagged crags of rocks
there is music there also
they drown the chimes of distant chapel bells
come, take my hand
roll up your sleeves
and bare your chest before the naked sun
but
what I want to know is where
they ever got the barbaric gall
to call me
an unbeliever
this is how I pray
“But I have not said anything about emptiness,” said Subhuti.
“That is true,” came the reply. “You have not spoken about emptiness. We have not heard about emptiness. That is true emptiness.”
And the flowers continued to fall like the rain.
One day, a little lamb found a hole in the wall and crawled out through it. It wandered around the hills and the meadows but a wolf spotted it and started to chase it around. The lamb ran for its life but the wolf was fast and hungry and was gaining on the lamb.
Suddenly there was a loud crack as the shepherd’s club hit the wolf squarely on its skull. The shepherd picked up the lamb and carried it back home, whispering to it gently along the way. He put the lamb back in the pen.
His neighbors heard about the incident and urged him to patch up the hole in the wall.
But despite their urgings, the shepherd decided to keep the hole right where it was.
He whispered to his seatmate (who happened to be God in disguise), “Look at all these people sleeping. They shouldn’t be disrespecting the Lord like that.”
And in that moment, God revealed himself to Tom and whispered in his mind, “I would rather, my son, that you were sleeping like them instead of feeling indignant and self-righteous.”