Notes From A Burning House

My friend Rabbi B. gave me a small present the other day – literally.  It was a palm-sized copy of the Psalms in two languages: Hebrew and Chinese. 

He said to me, Al, the Biblical conception of God is that He is reaching down to us; and the post-Biblical conception is that He’s done with that, and now it’s time for us to reach up to Him. 

*     *     *

The other day I got a call from D. urgently seeking any contact I might have who could make travel arrangements within Israel.  Her sister lives in Zfat, an Israeli city near the Syrian border.  Her street had been bombed.  A Katyusha rocket found her neighbor’s backyard – the backyard where all the neighborhood children play.  All the children were accounted for, Kwan Seum Bosal and thank God, but D.’s sister described the sickening experience of hearing the sound, seeing the smoke, and thinking, “Where are the kids?”  Now the family was crammed into a bomb shelter and D. wanted to get them into a car and further south, to safety.  I knew someone, and they knew someone, and it got worked out.  For a moment, anyway. 

*     *     *

An eminent teacher was asked: "When cold and heat come upon us, how can we avoid them?"

Tung Shan said, "Why don’t you go to where there is no cold or heat?"

The student asked, "Where is there no cold or heat?"

Shan said, "When cold, let cold kill you; when hot, let hot kill you."

Our hot dharma room never killed anyone, but it sure kept attendance down for a long while.  Now the Zen Center has an air-conditioned dharma room and during our recent retreat day it felt downright chilly at times. Gone are the days of sitting in hot robes with beads of sweat rolling down the nose.  One handy excuse for skipping a retreat was taken away, but there will be others.  There always seem to be 90 things to do other than sitting down and practicing. 

This morning a very rambunctious kitty named Wallace did his best to convince me there were other things to do than sit. (Playing with him, for instance.)  He even wiggled into the space between my joined hands and for a moment they held his warm, wriggling body.

*     *     *

And a voice said, “What are you reaching up towards Me for?  You want me to high five you or something?”

“What are we supposed to do?” cries the human.

“I have hidden nothing,” says the voice.  “Find out.”

*     *     *

Today I meet with an old friend, theatre colleague, and yoga teacher to discuss some joint teaching for actors – dharma and drama together as an enriching practice of awakening and bringing meditation into social activity and storytelling. 

And some fun for tomorrow night: Janet Klein and her Parlor Boys sing a few grand old songs at the Hammer Museum.  She is not a museum piece, no, she is (as she says in her bio) “on a mission for charm.”  She and her ukulele and the ensemble will open for a screening of Piccadilly.

We can be very hard on ourselves and on one another during these trying times.  Come on out to the Hammer.  There will be no solutions for the war, but a dose of charm and a smile won’t hurt.

It’s free of charge, even.  God does still reach down.

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