10/10/15

Last night, I debated on what to do: stay in and watch TV at my friend's place, where I'm cat-sitting for two weeks, go to the Friday night meditation and discussion group at PFoD, or go to St. Philip for the open sanctuary and adoration. I eventually decided to go to Open Sanctuary, partially because I wasn't in the mood to be alone and partially because I was feeling lazy and meditation is a lot more work than people think. Sitting still and focusing on a single object for 45min takes a surprising amount of effort.

About nine people showed up. Before the praise and adoration, we read part of the gospel reading for Sunday, Mk 10:17-30:

As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up, knelt down before him, and asked him, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus answered him, "Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: 'You shall not kill; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness; you shall not defraud; honor your father and your mother.'" He replied and said to him, "Teacher, all of these I have observed from my youth." Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, "You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to [the] poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." At that statement his face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions.

Fr. Bill asked us what word or phrase stood out to us. For me, it was the phrase 'come, follow me.' I see in it my interest in religion and monasticism. Then he asked what this passage said to us. Although I didn't feel like sharing my thoughts this time around, three interconnected aspects stood out for me. The first is that a spiritual life isn't just about following rules and we shouldn't fall into spiritual legalism, where the letter becomes more important than the spirit of the 'ten words.' The second aspect is the cultivation of generosity, having an open hand and an open heart. And the third aspect is renunciation, the letting go of our attachments to worldly things and pleasures in exchange for something more, something transcendent. When Jesus says "come, follow me," he's saying "follow my example, minister to the poor and seek that which is deathless."

Pretty much everyone agreed that it's one of the more challenging passages in the New Testament. Jesus is asking a lot of us; he's calling us to do much the same as the Buddha before him—he's calling us to turn away from our craving and desire, to lay down our burdens, emotional and material, and truly live the gospel/Dhamma. But it doesn't happen overnight for most of us. Like the man in the gospel story, practicing morality is only the first step. From there, we need to practice cultivating compassion and generosity and acting on those positive mental states. And then we need to practice letting go, through giving as well as through detachment and selflessness.

All that's easier said than done, however. Clinging and craving are natural aspects of our biology/psychology, like an evolutionary original sin except we didn't do anything wrong, it's simply how we've evolved. They encourage the mind to feed upon sensory experiences and cause it to either cling intensely to pleasant experiences or violently push away unpleasant ones. It may have helped us at some point in our evolution as a species, but now it tends to do more harm than good, which is why spiritual teachers like Jesus and the Buddha encourage us to go against the current of self-centredness and craving.

But even as I write this, I'm attached to the computer I'm writing it on, not to mention all the music and pictures that I've got stored on it. If anything were to happen to it, there'd probably be a lot of "sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, and despair." And how much harder would it be if someone were to tell me to sell it, along with all my books, clothes, iPod, and everything else I own to follow them into the unknown? I'd like to think that if Jesus or the Buddha were to ask, I wouldn't hesitate, but...

When the discussion was over, we all sat and listened to the music and prayed in our own way in front of the monstrance containing the Blessed Sacrament, the visible symbol of the invisible God. After the praise and adoration, everyone gathered in the foyer and talked for a while before deciding to head over to Double Barrel to continue the conversation. I didn't have much to talk about; and listening to everyone else, I was conscious of how little I had in common with most of them. But I'm glad I went, even if I still felt lonely.