“That swimming, sloping, elusive something about the dark-bluish tint of the iris, which seemed still to retain the shadows it had absorbed of ancient, fabulous forests where there were more birds than tigers and more fruit than thorns and where, in some dapped depth, man’s mind had been born.”
— Vladimir Nabokov.
My assistant flower photographer,
The Christian was required and created for one purpose and no other: “to be one more worker for the kingdom, one more transmitter of the divine Charity, the great spendthrift of God. From the first, writes Evelyn Wunderhill in “The Soul’s Journey.”
That, she wrote, was Jesus’s request and command; it was the very purpose of Christianity. An amateur seeker, I grew up searching for faith, and the closest I came to it was Jesus Christ, whose message was simple and very powerful: help the needy; sanctity is helping those with nowhere else to go. Of all the dogma I read and heard of, that message made the most sense and deeply inspired me.
I did not come to worship Jesus as a God or feel comfortable with what Christianity has become in our time. But there is no doubt about Christ. He was the primary transmitter of the Devine Charity, the world’s first faith about helping those who need help and calling on others to do the same. If I couldn’t embrace Jesus as a God, I could embrace him as an inspiration.
He did not and does not need to be a God to me for me to be deeply touched by his straightforward message and try to follow it. That is as close to God as I need to get.
The brilliant spiritualist and mystic Wunderhill said Jesus was humanity’s sacred pattern. I love her message, too. “He sets the standard,” she wrote, “showing what man is meant to be, revealing himself in every demand on our generosity, however homely, and by that demand alone and our response to it, separating the real from the unreal, the living from the dead.”
Christianity has a new standard; I can’t claim to know what it is, but I do know it’s not something I can follow. There is nothing Christ said that I can’t embrace and accept.
Many people who call themselves Christians have betrayed and abandoned him, but that is not the business of me or the mystic. I’m on my own. The spirit of the most potent message and messenger ever known in the world is not dead and will emerge when needed in one way or another. It’s getting close; I can feel it. Love is missed and in need of rescue.
He who altered the world will, in one way or another, return, not in Mosques and Churches and Temples, I suspect, but in the hearts and souls of all of us who want a better and kinder way.
I no longer understand the core message of modern Christianity; I can only see that it has lost the way of the founder. The sacred pattern for humanity is in the hearts and souls of the plain people, not any Church. How strange that the message of Christ would beat in my heart; a Jew turned Quaker into a mystic, all alone in a world of oddballs and fellow mystics.
I have to define my idea of faith and spirituality; it doesn’t fit into Christianity or any other faith right now. But isn’t that what mystics do?
I’m with Underhill, a passionate advocate of mysticism, life in reality, and truth. She never lost faith in Christ’s message.
“The worth of men,” (and women), wrote Underhill, “is not judged by their admiration of its beauty, but by the perfection with which it is reproduced within their own lives. We are required to express that which we are shown in contemplation in action, not by our peculiar beliefs and punctual religious practices, but simply by the exercise of Rescuing Love. That is an incredible and timely goal, free of cruelty, hate, and rage.
So, this spiritual work is undertaken without entirely realizing it; my job is to Rescue Love and take it back from the haters by doing Christ’s work—by loving others and helping them reduce their pain and fear. The mystic, Underhill says, has to come to faith by himself or herself, not the dogma of strangers.
I don’t need a church, a movement, or a label stuck in my head for this. I only need to be me and do good when I can find the need.
How does one “rescue” love?
I love the idea of Rescuing Love; it is precisely what our society needs and will, I believe, become a powerful movement in its own time. What a beautiful way to fight back.
Today is Juice Day at the Cambridge Pantry, all Canned, for convenience and the recognition that many pantry customers don’t have kitchens or space. Researchers say that canned juices are as healthy as fresh fruit and make life easier for young mothers and older people.
Sarah’s item choices for today, Friday:
Del Monte Mandarin Oranges 8.25 oz Can (Pack of 12), $18.34.
Del Monto Sliced Pineapple in 100% Juice, Canned Fruit (12 Pack of 12), $16.38.
Urgent Item:
Yellow Cling Sliced Peaches in Fruit Juice, 15 Oz (Pack of 6), $8.34.
The Amazon Cambridge Pantry Urgent Wish List is accessible anytime, day or night.
Click on the links here or use the green button at the bottom of every blog post. Every item on the wish list is urgent and updated several times daily. Some people are adopting favored items and sending them when they can. Thanks for the messages; the pantry volunteers greatly appreciate them.
I met Eh K’ Pru Shee seven years ago. Her story is one of tragedy, suffering, courage, and love, one of the early high points of my work and the group that soon became the Army of Good. Kathy Sosa is a dedicated teacher at Albany’s Hackett Middle School. Eh ‘Pru was fresh out of a United Nations Refugee Camp housing survivors of the Myanmar genocide.
From the first, Kathy was determined to get Eh K’Pru’ to a school that could handle and enrich her fantastic intellect and hard work. E K’ suffered hardship that has broken many people. She prayed and promised herself that that would not happen to her. This week, she kept her promise. She was sworn in as a citizen of the United States, a profoundly meaningful story in a time when refugees are struggling worldwide. Photo above.
When Kathy urged me to meet her, she was 13, and I agreed to come to her classroom. At the time, I had been working with refugee groups to help people find housing and pay their electric bills in a city that could get very cold.
She had a wrenching story to tell but without complaint. Eh K’ had spent the first 10 years of her life in the refugee camp; her family lost everything. When I sat down with her, she was already an honors student at Hackett. I was impressed, to say the least. At the time (and now, I gather), refugee children whose families were wholly committed to education. Kathy said Eh K’ was an extraordinary student, hard-working and soft-spoken, determined to succeed and go on to college.
Kathy asked if I could help get Eh K into one of the several excellent private schools in the Albany area. We both thought the prestigious Albany Academy would be the best choice and help her learn and grow in ways the crowded and underfunded schools couldn’t. We were told it was a long shot. I love to take on long shots; they are satisfying when you win.
I liked the idea and began to help—with the support of Kathy, some other dedicated teachers, and the Army of Good. I met several times with the Albany school staff. I badgered the head of the school a dozen times. He fought hard for her. They gave her a partial scholarship. We paid the rest.
We got eight refugee students admitted to Albany private schools on scholarship (the families had been decimated and escaped only with their lives).
Eh K was one of three students admitted to the Albany Academy. She was one of the most impressive people I have ever met. She had suffered almost every horror and had no self-pity or complaint. She became Kathy’s best student instantly.
When I met her (above), I was struck by her poise and determination. It was a gift for me to meet her and help her.
Kathy is one of those teachers they make movies about and that kids talk about for all of their lives, much like Sue Silverstein. Kathy now works at the Albany International Center, a receiving center for refugee students who need help learning English and other subjects taught in local schools. We are planning to work together again.
When I met Eh K Pru, I remember thinking I just had to get this courageous and worthy young woman into a good private school where she could get her deserved attention. Albany Public Schools are crowded and sorely underfunded. We went to work.
We did it. Eh K recently graduated with honors from Albany Academy and was admitted to college immediately.
Eh K Pru has tried to meet with me and thank me a dozen times, but I admit I was shy about doing that.
Kathy stayed close to her, even to the point of driving her to school every day. My policy has always been to back off once the kids settled where they needed to go. I can only call it a kind of shyness that surprises people; I don’t want these kids to feel obligated to me. It is best to drop out of their lives so they can get on with them. At the time, we helped a lot of refugee kids, and I wanted to move on with my work; I think I was afraid of being overwhelmed.
So many people in the world need help and have nowhere to go. E K never quit; she invited me to class events, graduation, and even the speeches she gave in school ceremonies. I will read about her someday; she means doing good herself and repaying her parents for saving and fighting for her.
We helped a lot of refugee children then, and I am always anxious about moving on. I’m never at ease being thanked or praised. It’s a matter of time, and awkwardness is the only way I can describe it.
Eh K is an American hero to me; she overcame awful loss and hardship, never gave up, got bitter, or quit on herself. Now, she is an American citizen.
You can see her poise in the photo above, taken when I first met her in Kathy’s class. I am grateful to Kathy and the staff at the Albany Academy. EhK’s mother stands alongside the U.S. Citizen and Immigration office in Albany. Our country is fortunate to have her. She told me her only ambition is to do well in College, take care of her parents, and do some good for others.
You can bet she will do that.
I almost cried when Kathy sent me the photo of her being sworn in. She is now a sophomore at a nearby college. I plan to meet with her next week or so at a restaurant in Albany.
I am excited about it. And I will shake her hand and hug her if she wants one. Doing good is so much better than fighting about what good is. This is a mighty blow for good.
Eh, K at the Albany Academy.
I was amazed when Maria joined a belly dancing group in Bennington, Vt. Today, we talk about how it changed her life.
