A Place of Thanksgiving

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith, God, Journey, SpiritualityLeave a comment

As I prepare for Thanksgiving and reflect on the latest news about refugees, immigration, and border patrols, I’m also reminiscing about giving the invocation and benediction at a naturalization ceremony.  Before the ceremony, the guest speaker, a naturalized citizen who was an engineer, shared his story with me.

As a child in India, he lived in a dirty village in a tiny house without any amenities, including clean drinking water.  He loved to read, though books, a luxury more valuable than gold, were scarce.  He said he knew that one day he would come to America, a land of opportunity, flowing with milk and honey, though he didn’t know how.  Even then, he loved the idea of Thanksgiving, a day to feast on all his blessings.  His childhood faith astounded me, much more hopeful than mine at that age, and I had plenty of clean water and shelves of books.  

As I stepped forward to deliver the invocation, I looked into the crowd.  Forty-one candidates for citizenship, all beautiful, beloved creations of God looked back at me.  I acknowledged these divine expressions and greeted them as if they were my congregation: “Namaste.  The Spirit in me welcomes, honors, embraces and truly rejoices in the Spirit in you.” 

I could only imagine their life journeys to reach that day.  Yet, I still felt our connection, as if we were united for a sacred purpose.  I remembered my own family’s stories.  Three of my four grandparents, several aunts and uncles, and numerous cousins also left other homelands, and became U.S. citizens.  They, too, had dreamt of new lives, faithful despite an unknown future.

After the ceremony, one of the new citizens thanked me in carefully spoken English for my prayers.  I offered my congratulations.  She beamed and shook my hand.  “So thankful,” she said.  “So thankful.” 

Wherever we are this Thanksgiving weekend, whether we listen or not, we’re surround by a chorus of grateful stories: mine, our relatives’, the engineer’s, other naturalized citizens’, and all those awaiting a new homeland.  However we’re willing to hear them, they speak similar truths: As divine children of God, each of us desires safety, security, freedom, comfort, and peace of mind.  We seek a better life for ourselves and our loved ones.  We want a place we call home, where we can savor all our blessings.

No matter who we are, who we love, where we’ve been, how we look, or what’ve done before, we can hold dearly, sometimes cling tightly, to the faith that leads us forward in courage and guides our steps in grace.  For every story and for all those who’ve paved a path for us, let us celebrate that kind of faith. Especially, let us be thankful for all we are now and all we’re still becoming.

Happy Thanksgiving, Blessed Readers.  Namaste.

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.

A Friend Indeed

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith, Journey, Personal Growth, Spirituality

Years ago, as a young executive, I had a friend who seemed to walk on water.  We hung out a lot, and I held her word as sacred. 

Often, I took her advice, even when the faintest still, small voice whispered that her way wasn’t best for me.  Sometimes, I could feel my body tense, my stomach rumbling and heart pounding.  My intuition attempted to guide me, but my intellect said, “She’s so much smarter.  She must be correct.”  Alas, to my own detriment, she was not.  

One day, I sheepishly approached a senior colleague and confided that the relationship felt “off” to me.  I knew that she understood when she said, “You feel ‘bad’ around her, as if you’ll never be good enough unless you do everything her way.” 

When we’re growing and learning, no matter our calendar age, our differentiation — the ability to remain true to ourselves and stay connected and compassionate, even during conflicts or disagreements — may feel “bad,” “lonely,” “yucky,” and/or “uncomfortable.”  Yet, we must differentiate because it’s paramount to our healthy spiritual growth and maturity.  And part of the process means that some relationships will end, while others will transform.  As we mourn these life passages, honoring them for what they were, we also can celebrate our capacity to make new friends.

To distinguish among bosom buddies, office pals, blessed mentors, inspiring teammates, and casual acquaintances, as well as false friends, we can:

  • Understand that having 1,000 friends or followers on social media doesn’t mean we have a lot of warm, caring friendships. 
  • Trust the gut.  If, for example, we repeatedly tune someone out, clench our jaws, or get headaches when we’re with them, it’s likely a signal that we’re out of sync.  We don’t need to analyze the circumstances, though we usually need to terminate the connection, especially if someone pressures us for money or romantic commitments.
  • Heed criticism lightly and consider all the angles, even if we truly value another’s insights and advice.  We’re all entitled to our opinion.
  • Avoid those who need to be “right” and make us “wrong,” or who gaslight, ghost, discount, diminish, turn away, and/or reach for their smart devices whenever we speak. 
  • Beware those who constantly:
    • offer unsolicited advice;
    • talk about themselves and never ask about us;
    • want to coach, correct, fix, and/or instruct us;
    • push their products or personal causes;
    • disregard our boundaries, privacy, and personal space;
    • need rescuing from another drama;
    • philosophize about how we could be, if we only did this, that, or the other thing;
    • gossip about others;
    • interrupt whenever we assert ourselves; and/or
    • know all the answers. 

Overall, remember that even if we feel lonely for a while, we aren’t alone.  Our inner spirit is strong, faith-filled, courageous, and capable.  As we trust ourselves and our intuition, we can take small steps forward into those places and relationships where true friends await, ready to love, support, encourage, and accept us for the divine people we are.

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.

What I Remember

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith, God, Journey, Spirituality

We each have our own memories.  We remember various aspects, specific images, certain feelings, in myriad ways.

18 years later, this is what I remember:

Leaving home

Car thermometer: 72o

New Jersey Turnpike entrance

Crowded lanes

Sunshine in my window

Her Majesty, the Statute of Liberty

The Beacon Twins, the Towers

Busy streets

McNair Academic

4th day teaching Honors English

More nervous than the freshmen, still

Bells ringing

Short-story discussion:

        Determine plot, distinguish character, define motive, discover resolution

        Incomplete

Sirens wailing, wailing, wailing

Mike R. entering

“Look out the window”

Opening windows

Leaning out windows

Hundreds of windows, thousands of heads

Smoke, steel, gray, black

Horror

 “Oh, My God!”

Numb

“What?”

Fear

“Where are they?”

Tears

Hugs

Rushing to phones, finding phones

Silent phones

Climbing stairs

4th floor, Yearbook Office

1 phone

Faint connection

Relief

Terror

Waiting

Tears

Hugs

Up and down stairs

Classroom doors opening, closing

TV monitor

Flames

Smoke, steel, gray, black

Preparing to dismiss for home

“Who’s going home?”

“Who’s coming home?”

Short-story analysis:

        Determine plot, distinguish character, define motive, discover resolution

                Some late, sick, delayed, lost, saved, dead    

Heading home

Deserted streets

Gray sky out my window

New Jersey Turnpike entrance

Police car, officer

“Where are you going, Ma’am?”

“Home”

License and registration

Driving home, finally

Empty lanes

“Where are the cars?”

Arriving home

TV images

Smoke, steel, gray, black

“Oh, My God!”

Hugs

Tears

Hugs

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.

Give It a Rest

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith, God, Journey, Spirituality

As the world seems to move faster than ever, many of us are trying to keep pace.  We ratchet items off to-do lists only to find more to get done the next day.  We’ll rest later, we say, when we’ve accomplished everything on that never-ending list.  Only when we reach the brink of exhaustion and overwhelm, or literally make ourselves sick, do we consider stopping.  

While we may falsely believe that we’re more valued for what we achieve, rest reminds us how precious we are because we’re God’s Beloved Creations.  Resting and renewing ourselves is the part of our spiritual practice which assures us that we’re divine human beings, not robotic human doings. 

So, as we work our practice, let’s give all these a rest:

  • Our Bodies: Some of us need the recommended 8 hours of sleep a night.  Others function well with 6 or 7, and an afternoon nap.  Whether we’re early birds or night owls, we can notice when we accomplish the most during the day and schedule our high-energy efforts for those times.
  • Shoulds: Society has all kinds of ideas about what we “should” have and do. These tiring norms can keep us living by perfectionistic standards and following outrageous trends.  As soon as we choose to stop “shoulding” on ourselves, we start recognizing our own true nature, the essence of our spiritual self.  Then we can set our own criteria for effectiveness and contentment, even if they differ from others.
  • Phones and Smart Devices: Blue lights are meant to draw attention.  At least one hour before bedtime, put away all devices, preferably somewhere outside the bedroom.  Then, wait about an hour after waking to return to them again.  Consider scheduling device-free times for prayer and meditation.
  • News, Information, and Feeds: Stop watching or listening to news, checking the latest tweets, or searching for online bargains at bedtime.  Rather than relax us, these rev our hearts and send our minds swirling.  Save news and searches for higher energy times.  Also, consider scheduling specific times mid-day to check social media sites.
  • Worry and Guilt: Worry is trying to foresee every detail of how the future will unfold.  Guilt is trying to rewind and relive the past.  Both prevent us from being fully present and feeling peace of mind now.  Whenever these creep in, especially at bedtime, we can remind ourselves that we did the best we knew how before, and since we know more now, we can act differently to create a better future.

No matter what needs rest in our lives, let’s remember that no one accomplishes or has it all.  And the beauty of developing spiritual maturity is realizing that who we are and what we have is enough.  As we stay faithful to our own journey, we recognize our true desires and top priorities.  Then, we can rest in peace, savoring each day’s success.

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.

Higher Caliber Connections

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith, God, Journey, Spirituality1 Comment

As more people died from gun violence this past week, more terror, shock, and disbelief set in.  While many turn to thoughts and prayers, these feel meaningless and shallow because they propel few of us into transforming ourselves and our communities into places of inclusion and compassion. 

While many also want more conversation, the conversations only succeed with those truly willing to: listen to and behold other people as Beloved Creations of God; check agendas, fears, judgments, and opinions at the door; and stay open to possibilities for long-term, universal gains, not what is most profitable, expedient, or convenient now.

If we hope to transcend the violence, political rhetoric, accusatory outbursts, finger-pointing, and name-calling, then we also must deepen our connections with people who, at first, seem different from us.  We must decide whether deadly weapons, exclusive clubs, and closed gates, are more valuable than the sanctity of all human life.  Not just some lives, in particular places, at certain times. 

The truth is: No matter what others may do, we decide whether we’ll change the caliber of our own consciousness to pave peaceful paths.  Each of us can do this, if we’re willing to push the edges of some comfort zones, step out further in faith, and rise in spiritual maturity.

If you’re ready for this journey, here are some steps you can take:

  • As you pray, include those hurting from grief and loss, as well as those hurting from anger and outrage.  Remember that our prayers don’t condone others’ behavior.  Rather, they open our hearts to feel more compassion and free ourselves with forgiveness.
  • If you support gun control legislation, also support those who advocate for mental health care reform and crisis management.
  • Get involved with civic, ecumenical, and interfaith organizations dedicated to inclusivity, hospitality, and generosity which celebrate common ground and shared values among all people. 
  • Attend churches, synagogues, and mosques which provide opportunities for shared connections.  Many hold gatherings for people of different faiths or ethnicities to break bread together, enjoy sacred conversations, and establish life-long friendships.
  • If you live in a city/municipality which has signed the Charter for Compassion, support their activities and educational outreach.  If not, seek ways to establish your hometown or company as a compassionate place of equity and inclusion.
  • As much as you may be tempted, preserve your valuable energy and avoid heated arguments and drag-down debates with those who aren’t ready to connect with you and listen to your views.
  • Focus on your own positions and what you wish to achieve, rather than attacking “the enemy.”  Remember that spiritual masters are social activists, not re-activists, who strive to love, even when they don’t like others’ choices. 

Above all, remember: God is in the midst of whatever is occurring within us and around us.  Know that in every moment of our journey, we can choose — again — how we’ll express the Presence of God we are and how we’ll serve the best for all humanity.

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.

Free in the Feeling

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith, Journey, Spirituality1 Comment

During a recent gathering with friends to share our latest achievements and family tidbits, one person removed their phone.  They flashed an image for us to see, commenting about personal fragmentation, political polarization, and societal demise.  They leaned forward in their chair, arms waving faster, voice escalating, and face reddening with each word.

I viewed the image.  Though I didn’t share its sentiment either, I didn’t feel our friend’s rage.  And as they continued, I observed that their intellectualizing halted our conversation and shattered our connection.  Where we’d been invited to celebrate some joys, now we were bystanders in a discourse about the world’s problems.

When I asked our friend how they felt, they paused.  They stared at me and repeated what they already said.  Then I realized: They couldn’t tell me how they felt (I imagined anger, horror, sadness, shock, among others) because they were disconnected from their feelings. 

Alas, this is true of many people, especially those in certain clinical, political, and spiritual circles who believe that personal feelings are mushy emotions we must eliminate and transcend as quickly as possible.  

However, when we analyze, criticize, and theorize, we keep life at arm’s length, pushing away such feelings as anguish, confusion, disillusion, grief, heartbreak, and sorrow.  Sometimes, to bypass the feelings, we make things about “someone else” or “another.”   Then the pain can root, grow, and fester in our bodies as headaches, backaches, bellyaches, limps, rashes, or ulcers.  Furthermore, our reactions can detach and disconnect us from ourselves and those we love most. 

When we’re willing to acknowledge our feelings as the divine messengers they are, we become free to experience life differently, even when we don’t like some of it. 

If we’re ready for such an adventure, we can contemplate these questions:

  • How do I feel about the particular behavior, circumstance, and/or situation I’ve experienced?
  • How are the behaviors, etc., different from mine?
  • What, if any, similarities do I see?
  • What am I willing to do to mourn the past and accept what I cannot change so I can heal, move on, and invest my time and energy elsewhere?
  • Where are the openings to get more of what I love by changing myself or my own perspective?

These questions aren’t easy to answer.  They require the introspection and sacred conversations which encourage us to grow in spiritual maturity.  They invite us to use the feelings we once believed would hinder us to discern what we need in our lives now, what we love most, and how we want to serve others by contributing our gifts in this world.  Especially, they free us to rediscover life’s simple pleasures as we embrace more of the beauty, joy, and wonder we find on our way.

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.

A Label, By Any Other Name

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith, God, Journey, Spirituality1 Comment

One day during a planning meeting, someone appreciated my organizational skills and said, “My Virgo feels so much better now.”  Then they asked about several future activities.  I said we’d get to those in a few months, after we completed other steps.  They exhaled and checked something off their to-do list.

Later, as I reviewed my notes, I wanted to ask, “What comforts your Virgo?”  I imagined how stifled they might feel within the stereotype of detail-oriented Virgo.  I also wondered whether their Virgo labelled other colleagues or me, if that Virgo perspective is the only one they hold. 

Even as we can be almost anything, live nearly anywhere, and learn about any culture in one swipe, many of us still live according to labels designated to separate and diminish us, rather than connect and empower us.  Sometimes we keep ourselves in these labelled boxes, perhaps because someone told us that’s where we fit — and we never questioned it. 

Consider some of the labels:

Black, Tan, White, Yellow

Agnostic, Buddhist, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Sikh

Bi, Gay, Lesbian, Queer, Straight, Trans

Destitute, Poor, Privileged, Rich

Educated, Uneducated

Aquarius, Gemini, Leo, Scorpio

Enneagram: 4, 3, 2, 1

Communist, Democrat, Libertarian, Progressive, Republican, Socialist

Artist, Chef, Criminal, Entrepreneur, Teacher, Unemployed, Veteran

Cousin, Dad, Mom, Sister, Uncle

Carnivore, Vegetarian

Fat, Short, Tall, Thin

Athlete, Couch-Potato

Homebody, Traveler

Loser, Winner

Sometimes we classify one another, like specimens in petri dishes, saying, “They’re this way because they’re an ‘Introverted, Radical, Vegan, Architect.’”  Then we imagine we know their whole story.  We may spend tons of money and time assessing ourselves and others based on classifications which can become self-fulfilling prophecies.  We may struggle within those labels to meet some standard, trying on other labels for size, like new clothes, to see whether they suit us better.

Often, institutions put us through the demoralizing process of labelling to determine our rank, credit score, and net worth, as well as our aptitude to enter a specific school, live in a particular neighborhood, or drive a certain car.  We’re evaluated with algorithms and metrics to determine what kind of risk we might be to their security and how we conform to societal ideals. 

And among all those labels, we forget the only important one: Beloved Creation of God (or whichever name we use for God), Beloved Creator of all things.  Being one of God’s Beloved Creations means we’re divine just as we are — and so is everyone else.  That divinity, indwelling in each of us, is expansive.  It allows us to rise beyond the limitations of all other labels.

As soon as we begin discarding labels, we grow in spiritual maturity.  No matter what we’ve believed about ourselves before or which paths we’ve traveled already, we feel free to embrace both the depth of our divinity and the strength of our humanity.  We live from a greater sense of compassion, understanding that everyone experiences pain and loss, as much as joy and success.  And, as we know the divine within us, we know it in all others, too.

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.

Another Path Ahead

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith

Journeys often begin the same way.  We decide to leave town, take a trip, explore a new venue, or revisit a favorite destination.  Sometimes we imagine the geographic cure, believing that once the past is out of sight, it also will be out of mind.  Then we expect paths filled with only rainbows and sunshine.

Sometimes we fuel ourselves with mantras such as: “Let a smile be your umbrella.”  Or “It’s easier to change your direction than it is to change your attitude.” Or “The journey of 1,000 miles begins with the first step.”  We may try to affirm our heart’s desires, using magical thinking to will away the past, or spiritual bypassing to pretend that we haven’t failed several times, or hit a bottom no one witnessed anywhere on social media.

When we begin journeys believing that a “cosmic eraser” will eliminate the past — the bankruptcy, break-up, death, debt, disaster, divorce, estrangement, harm, hurt, illness, job loss, storm — we forget our sacred worth and our innate power to move forward.  If we strive for fulfillment which comes without failure, then we never feel happy or content.  If we see the destination as the ultimate reward, we’re disappointed the moment we arrive. 

Then, we’re off again, still led by burdens of blame, shame, guilt, pain, and sorrow we wear like armor.  Pretending that we don’t feel angry, confused, disillusioned, exhausted, frightened, frustrated, or heartbroken, delays the profound healing we can realize when we grieve our losses, remembering that they are as much a part of life as the celebrations.

It’s also why the geographic cure works only when we remember what we always carry:

  • Divinity: the essence and presence of God within each of us, no matter who we are, where we live, what we do, how we look, or who we love.  Our divinity reminds us that we’re spiritual beings, living a human experience, and so is everyone else.
  • Faith: the infinite, inner reserve which includes belief, hope, and trust.  We can reactivate our faith with daily contemplation, meditation, prayer, and reflection, especially in times of silence and solitude. 
  • Patience: an aspect of spiritual strength, which trusts in God’s calendar before our personal to-do list, especially as we notice that all things grow, bloom, and die in their own sacred time.
  • Compassion: born when love and wisdom unite, to unlock our hearts and open our minds, first to ourselves, then to others.
  • Courage: from the Latin cor, meaning heart, allowing us to follow our heart as we let the past fertilize and fuel a better life now, and in the future.

The journeys we travel separately and collectively, as citizens of the world, invite us to move beyond our past and our pain, not only for our own well-being, but for all others, too.  And as we grow in spiritual maturity, we’re free to take the best of ourselves wherever we go.

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.

With Us Still

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith, God, Journey, Spirituality1 Comment

Earlier this year, my college classmate Dave died.  I saw a mosaic of photos posted on Facebook, one which included me.  I stared at the photo.  Dave was dead?  My classmate who read this blog, who was irreverent and compassionate at the same time.  The one who wouldn’t let cancer get the best of him because, in his irreverence, he would best it.

For several days, I mourned.  And in my mourning, that sorrow we feel for what can no longer be, I remembered others too.

Nancy was one of the first.  We attended high school Chem Lab together.  Neither of us liked Chemistry, though we enjoyed our friendship.  We encouraged each other, especially when I couldn’t do the math, and she couldn’t write the report.  She’d say, “My lab partner’s no dummy.”  Then, I repeated it, and we plowed through our assignments, getting B’s in Chemistry because we worked together.

Sometimes, when I doubt what I’m doing, Nancy is saying, “My lab partner’s no dummy.”

When I began seminary, I met Barry, a gentle, pastoral soul, who enjoyed poetry, especially the Psalms.  He helped mentor new students, guiding us through summer classes.  He explained theology in ways I understood.  One day, during a term break, I received an email that he died.  I couldn’t believe it.  Barry, my guiding light, the poet, was dead. 

Sometimes, when I work with the Psalms, I can feel Barry near.

Janice died after we were ordained.  We shared several classes together, including Homiletics, where I often sat near her and watched her colour code her sermons with assorted highlighters before she preached.  We studied together, sweating out the angst of ministerial reviews, awaiting word that we’d passed the latest test and could continue on our way. 

Sometimes, when I highlight my sermons, Janice is smiling.

Then, Mona, like my big sister in seminary, died.  I just moved to Florida, not far from where she lived, and I remember her delight in realizing that we’d be reunited and could support each other in ministry, as we did in class.  We celebrated each other’s birthdays, meeting at restaurants where we sat for hours, eating, laughing, talking.  When I expressed impatience or concern about how things would unfold, she laughed, tilted her head, and said, “Well, Jenn, you’ve only been doing this for like 5 minutes.”  I’d shake my head and say, “I know.” 

Sometimes, when I feel impatient, I hear Mona calling my name.

Poet James Dillet Freeman says in his poem, “The Traveler,” that when our loved ones die, they “put on invisibility,” though they’re never truly gone.  In this season of passing over and rising up, let us remember that death isn’t only an end, but a beginning, too.  And that wherever our journeys lead, those we love are with us — still.

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.

Giving Up the Fight

On By Rev. Jennifer L. SacksIn Faith, Journey, Spirituality

These days arguing and fighting are their own sports.  Whether face to face or tweeting back and forth, some people enjoy cutting one another down to determine who’s right and who’s wrong.  More valuable than the Master’s Cup or a World Series ring, the victory of having the “correct” position is the trophy they wish to own.

Yet, how fleeting those victories are.  Because in fighting only for our way, we forget that we’re all divine human beings, with our own hopes, dreams and desires.  Though we justify our determination and say the fight is for a great cause, those victories are hollow, too, because we close our minds and lock our hearts, labelling a circumstance, organization, or person as being against us. 

Then, we don’t hear the true needs or feelings someone else has.  We can’t seek or even create common ground — together — because we’re already charging through barriers which haven’t yet been erected.  We argue about strategies without examining what underlies all the concerns, fears, or worries.  We narrow all possibilities for achieving solutions that are win-win.  Especially, we limit any divine opportunity to achieve and/or receive more than we imagined.

Instead of fighting, perhaps we could strive for understanding, mutuality, connection, and compassion as most spiritual masters do.  It helps to remember that these masters were activists, though rarely were they reactive.  Perhaps we’d also consider that being peaceful doesn’t mean being passive.  In truth, it requires much more strength, patience, courage and assurance. 

Fighting rarely creates the true change we seek.  The old adage still holds: “The one convinced against their will is of the same opinion still.”  And though they acquiesce for a while, they may find another way to do what they did before, sometimes with greater outrage.

When we’re angry, ready to charge, with pulse racing, head throbbing, heart pounding, our intuition and consciousness actually are reminding us that we love or value something so much that we want to preserve, protect, and support it.

So, to achieve our own spiritual mastery, we can relinquish the fight and contemplate:

  • What we love most, such as our families, friends, and sacred possessions.
  • What we truly value, such as safety and security in our schools, streets, malls, homes, and houses of worship; clean drinking water; and accessible polling places.
  • What we truly desire, such as equality, inclusion, and opportunity for all people.

Maybe we can win a battle by waging another war.  Yet how much more effective would we be if we directed our energy and attention to what we truly wish to achieve?  Though the prize we win may not be renowned, the peace of mind and love we realize along the way will be its own rich reward.

© 2019 – Rev. Jennifer L. Sacks.  All rights reserved.