The Dash That Lies Within

It’s a somber day. You’re in a church, not like this one. Its grand woodwork and pews seem to extend for miles. The stone on the inside stretches to engulf the brightly colored stained glass. The gentle church organ is playing something unrecognizable but it seems to set a very melancholy tone. People are sitting on the hard wooden benches, dressed in black. Someone has died. And as you walk up the aisle you see certain family members and some friends. You remember reading something in the paper about a death occurring, however it seems strange that you’re there. The casket is now before you. You gather enough strength to look in and inside ...there you are…dead. You listen to what your family, friends, coworkers say about you… what are they saying? The scene changes as you see your body get lowered into the grave.

The grave stone says
RIP
Here lies YOU
This year – that year

Then all of the sudden the earth starts moving near the grave stone… you might think it’s a earthquake when all of the sudden you see a hand clawing its way towards the sky… Its you … the dead… coming to rise again …cause this is thrillah….

Sorry… I know totally lame to bring up MJ. I’m so Bad…but I left my other sermon in my billy jeans… so if you don’t like this one you can probably Beat It…. Its All hallows eve eve today, and you can’t get away from the spooky… and what’s spookier than a graveyard … am I right?

I guess the reason why I’m thinking about the spookiness of headstones is that two weeks ago I began helping my dad archive pictures onto the computer. These were pictures different people I’m related to… it just so happened that these were of my grandfather’s dad. There were pictures of him as a baby, the house he was born in, his football pictures at University of Oregon. As we looked through all 14 of his pictures, we selected 8 that we actually knew who was in the photos or what exactly was happening. We found his death certificate, and some newspaper clippings about him. Typesetting it we realized that the sum of his life could be compiled into 8 pictures, 3 pages of text, and a death certificate. After about 2 hours worth of work, my dad looked at what we had and he told me “well there’s your great grandfather… an entire lifetime and we only have 11 pages.

And it got me to thinking about an even more grim scene.. I realized that on a gravestone below the RIP and the person’s name is the year they were born *dash* the year they died. An entire lifetime can be abbreviated into a mere dash.

Close your eyes and feel the mortality of the human body you’ve been given. Death is certain for us—only the time of death is yet to be discovered. Imagine yourself to be at the end of your life—next week or next year or decades from now…sometime in the future. Now cast your memory back across your whole life and bring to mind two good deeds that you have done, two things that you did that were good. They don’t need to be grandiose; let whatever wants to arise show itself. In picturing and remembering these good deeds, also become aware of how these memories affect your consciousness, how they transform the feelings and state of the heart and mind, as you see them.

Look carefully at the quality of these situations, at what is comprised in a moment of goodness picked out of a lifetime of words and actions. Almost everyone who is able to remember such deeds in this meditation discovers them to be remarkably simple. They are rarely the deeds one would put on a resume. For some people a moment of goodness was simply the one when they told their father before he died that they loved him, or when they flew across country in the midst of their busy life to care for their sister’s children as she was healing from a car accident. It could be that you thought back to a crowded street where you and someone else got to a parking spot at the same time, and you gave it to that person.

The things that matter most in our lives are not fantastic or grand. They are the moments when we touch one another, when we are there in the most attentive or caring way. This simple and profound intimacy is the love that we all long for. These moments of touching and being touched can become a foundation for a way of life, and they take place in the most immediate and direct way. Mother Teresa put it like this: “In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love.”

I did this exercise 10 years ago and found myself drawing a blank when it came to any good deeds. The reason why was because everything that I had flagged as a “good deed” was also something that had an ulterior motive with my benefit at the end of the road. I racked my brain over and over to view something that I had done in my life that I did purely for the betterment, or love of someone else. I found nothing. Perhaps you are in this boat. You close your eyes and all you see is what you’ve done to others to benefit yourself, and what you’ve done to get where you’re at today. Let me tell you this morning that this is no life. Your dash in the middle is a self centered life, one that doesn’t have charity built in, it doesn’t benefit others. In fact it is this sort of life devoid of love that people do not miss, if not even give a sigh a relief when this person passes away.

In his first letter to the Corinthians Paul pleads with the church in Corinth to let their dashes…the ones that comprise their lives, to be filled with love. For it is his view that as everything falls by the wayside unless you fill your life with the love of God.

But what does this look like? We’ve already heard from Ken this morning on what his experience. I have another story that is similar. It just happened recently that a friend tried to extend his comfort zone to try to begin loving people. He writes this.

Well, I headed out to meet everyone at Pioneer Square tonight for the hang out and giveaway. But my lame ass didn't get up out the house until 7, and when I arrived downtown clutching a package of socks, there was no one to be found.I was a little mad at myself for missing [the gang], but oh well, I thought. I'll bring the socks the next time ... I was going to just go browse Powell's… and head home.Then I met George. I was walking along and passed him panhandling on Broadway, near the Heathman. I pulled out my last 5 dollars and dropped it in his basket, and I smiled and greeted him, and he thanked me, and I said "anytime" and told him God bless. I was walking away when he said "Thank you for treating me like a human being." I turned back around and said "hey, don't mention it, that's what it's all about." I leaned against the store window next to him and we [started] talk[ing].We talked for over an hour. That $5 and eye contact were the price of admission to the life of George, and it was well worth it. And if things had gone as planned, I'd have never met him.George is in his fifties and has been homeless for 30-some odd years. He has no cartilage in his knees, plus arthritis. That's what I learned in the first two minutes. The rest of the time was spent talking about life, the universe and everything, and learning what George thinks and feels. Things like, if you love your enemies, you can have no enemies. Like, God loves us and looks out for us, even in the hardest of circumstances. Like, They can jail your body, but you have to LET them jail your spirit. Like, he would rather be homeless and alert to the world with its beauties and dangers, than comfortable and complacent. Like, we don't have to grow senile and decrepit, if we … care [for] our bodies and spirits we could live longer… in … health and vitality. I tried to help George out, and it's HIM that blessed ME. Our conversation veered from the Chronicles of Narnia to Tibetan monks to the societal changes wrought by the internet. Every moment in his presence was joy, every word and gesture of his dripped love.Our conversation only ended when George pulled up stakes to go camp out of the rain. Whatever else happened (or didn't) happen the past day, I was fulfilled in meeting and communing with George. We hugged, twice. We parted as brothers. Oh, and I gave him the socks. I'll buy more for the next time.

That is his experience in the dash that we call life. And as someone typesets my epitaph I’m not sure they will get the nuances of what my life has been about. When I think back on my life what pops up as one of my “good deeds” is simply giving my sweatshirt away. I met a guy downtown, a huge New Yorker, and I happened to have on a New York sweatshirt. He commented on it several times. I felt that it would be nice to give it to him. He was taken aback, weirded out, at first couldn’t accept it… as I insisted and he put it on. To this day we are great friends.

What is the value of your favorite piece of clothing? Is it more valuable than lets say … your soul? I’m not advocating going and giving away all of your stuff. I am questioning our priorities! What are you doing during your week? How much of your life is devoted to loving others?

We are a creative community, and I want to be clear on one thing. Art is not Love. What was written about this mans experience is inspiring, and inspired by what he did. We can write about love, sing about love, paint, write poetry, and speak about love… But all of these are inspired by the ACT of loving. Don’t fool yourself into complacency and oblivion by allowing your inspirations be what should be your aspirations. Please by all means write, compose, paint, be as creative as possible, but realize that the act of loving someone else with no agenda is what will inspire your artistry.

James, in talking to churches all over the map, says “do you say you have faith in God? Then do something!” He says that true religion stems from caring for those who have slipped through the cracks. Loving, caring, spending time and energy blessing other people with no agenda is NEVER GOING TO BE EASY. Like my friend who met George…Things won’t go as planned! Yet it was in that seemingly negligible space of availability, and effort….that loving someone with no agenda brought its reward. What was that reward? Lives were changed on both parts. Connection with a loving God happened to both parties… however small. And that is what God is calling you to do every day.

We’re so conscious of our time, yet we spend none of it doing the things that would truly make it remarkable. Let’s be remarkable…This week I want to ask you to take one half hour out of your week and spend it doing “a good deed” for someone else, with no expectation of payback… none…. Think about it… How will your life change years from now if you begin to prioritize love in your life. Doing the small things with great love… What will your dash look like?