Spiritual forebears
Over at Reflections of a Spiritual Franciscan, Don has written about his "spiritual ancestry" and asked his readers about theirs. This started out as a comment, but ended up being a little long for a comment, so I moved it here.
I don't think you'll be surprised to hear that I consider St. Francis and Father Damien of Molokai to be among mine. I also owe much to Mulla Nasruddin's gentle way of teaching. Rabbi Hillel. My great-granddaddy who did his best to teach his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren his love of God and of God's creation. William Penn and George Fox, with their calls to closeness with God and to peace among people. A woman back home who called herself a witch and believed that meant being responsible for taking care of the land and the people who grow from the land.
Sister Loretta who ran the library of a small town school, and reached out to a kid who was deeply unhappy, and physically unwell. "The shell lady" who took pleasure in the simple things, sharing what she had and living close to the ground. Father B. who showed me that humor could go right along with deep belief. Miz Leista who told me that God wants to hear every voice around that Throne, that the choir won't be complete until everyone is singing. And my parents who founded a tiny health clinic in Appalachia and give of themselves every day.
I've been amazed by the blessings God has rained down on me by sending teacher after teacher to light my path forward. Some have formally taught me, and others just had that divine light shining through in everything they did. I feel like my "spiritual family" becomes wider and wider as I get older. Some have passed on, yet others arrive constantly. Not just ancesters, but brothers and sisters to rejoice with, to share burdens with, to love deeply.
I don't think you'll be surprised to hear that I consider St. Francis and Father Damien of Molokai to be among mine. I also owe much to Mulla Nasruddin's gentle way of teaching. Rabbi Hillel. My great-granddaddy who did his best to teach his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren his love of God and of God's creation. William Penn and George Fox, with their calls to closeness with God and to peace among people. A woman back home who called herself a witch and believed that meant being responsible for taking care of the land and the people who grow from the land.
Sister Loretta who ran the library of a small town school, and reached out to a kid who was deeply unhappy, and physically unwell. "The shell lady" who took pleasure in the simple things, sharing what she had and living close to the ground. Father B. who showed me that humor could go right along with deep belief. Miz Leista who told me that God wants to hear every voice around that Throne, that the choir won't be complete until everyone is singing. And my parents who founded a tiny health clinic in Appalachia and give of themselves every day.
I've been amazed by the blessings God has rained down on me by sending teacher after teacher to light my path forward. Some have formally taught me, and others just had that divine light shining through in everything they did. I feel like my "spiritual family" becomes wider and wider as I get older. Some have passed on, yet others arrive constantly. Not just ancesters, but brothers and sisters to rejoice with, to share burdens with, to love deeply.
posted by Plain Foolish | 7:09 AM
2 Comments:
Great post. You're a great writer with a real gift to put your thoughts on "paper". Thanks for writing this. Peace.
Thank you, both for your words here and for giving the focus for those thoughts. It helps to occasionally remember our teachers and how many of them are sent day by day to guide us.
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