Just Let Me Bless You

Each Wednesday night, a currently small group of us gather for what has been named “Wednesday Night Inspiration”. We do this at the center where I have chosen to have my formal God experience each week. Having said that, I am reminded that I read, I am told, and I try to remember, “There is one life. That life is God. That life is my life now.” Surely our human experiences are mostly similar. Regardless of how we choose to name it—God, Spirit, Creator, the Divine, all of the above—if we have chosen to be conscious of our essence, then we have also grappled with trying to reconcile that essence with the challenges of life.

On Wednesday nights, we begin with a little dancing, and because we are mostly similar in age, the music speaks to our generation's experience with radio music—a little rock ‘n roll and a little rhythm & blues. Dancing in church? My Internet friend, Wikipedia, affirms that dance has been an important part of ceremony, rituals, and celebrations throughout human history. As I read from “Science of Mind” magazine this morning—the current issue focusing on our creativity—I came to an article about a man who grew up in Malawi. Political unrest in the 1980s in his country brought him to the United States as a young man. And though he thought he would pursue a career in business, he chose instead to study theater and dance. Among the many accomplishments he’s made over the last 30 years, he has been recognized with the Dalai Lama’s Unsung Heroes of Compassion award for his work in using performance art as a tool for healing. Peace is at the center of his message and work.

So it dawned on me this morning—that’s what we are doing each Wednesday night. Even though I’ve commented, with a grin, several times—“My God, we’re holy rollers” (no offense intended). Last night, Steve Winwood’s 1986 #1 hit, “Higher Love” provided the inspiration for us to sweep into the floor space that had been created for us to get into the spirit, as it were.

“Think about it
there must be higher love
Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above.
Without it life is wasted time

Look inside your heart
I'll look inside mine.”

(from “Higher Love,” Steve Winwood)

The lyrics are dynamite, but the music, well, I couldn’t and I wouldn’t want to sit still.

Our weekly gatherings are about so much more than dancing. We do a little drumming—hmmm, more woo-woo. We light candles and release that which would hold us captive, someone sings a solo, we sing together, we state our affirmations, but most importantly perhaps, we hear a talk on God, faith, love, gratitude, forgiveness, blessings and the act of blessing, the freedom that our Creator wants us to know, and all of the things that any of us have learned on our spiritual journey. But we don’t talk about sin and guilt. And we don’t understand God as a male figure in the sky who wants to control us and exact punishment when our human nature leads us to fall short somehow. We are reminded as the prayer attributed to St. Francis tells us, it is in loving that we are loved; it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned. And we are reminded that we are at choice—always at choice.

How marvelous it is to know the healing power of music and dance. How marvelous to know that in spite of how we choose to separate ourselves one from the other, that we really are one and that celebrating this oneness is our challenge. The home of two of our Wednesday celebrants was broken into yesterday, so they were not physically present at the celebration last night. Before Steve Winwood’s music began, our leader offered a prayer of blessing for those who see themselves as victims and therefore privileged to violate the sanctity of another’s space. How marvelous to pray, as the Gospel of Matthew tells us, 5:44—“But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

And so it is.

Just Let Me Bless You—Santa Fe, New Mexico (July 15, 2010)
R. Harold Hollis