Holding Open the Door to Love

. . . notes on teaching and learning as a form of holy relationship

I am writing daily Advent posts. It is a difficult blessing which, at this juncture of my study and practice, means it is a beautiful thing, a holy thing. It’s hard to sustain but doing so matters. I’m not confused or distracted but grateful.

Writing and reading together are a form of relationship, one which, when undertaken in a certain spirit of openness and curiosity, becomes holy very quickly.

Among other things, a holy relationship challenges us. It brings us into contact with ourselves in ways that are uncomfortable and even frightening. But, critically, the relationship stays with us in that fear-based discomfort, effectively transforming it.

A holy relationship is one in which we know we are not alone, and cannot be alone, and so whatever malfunction or dysfunction we see in ourselves is no longer something to be feared. We cannot be kicked off the island; we will not be asked to leave the table. It changes how we look at things, knowing and trusting our place in the firmament.

You rest within the peace of God today . . . You will be faithful to your trust today, forgetting no one, bringing everyone into the boundless circle of your peace, the holy sanctuary where you rest. Open the temple doors and let them come from far across the world, and near as well; your distant brothers and your closest friends; bid them all enter here and rest with you (W-pI.109.8:1-3).

This transformation of discomfort and fear allows us us to be present to ourselves in a deeper and more holistic way. We aren't scared of ourselves; we aren't ashamed of ourselves. Nothing is actually at stake. We can look at ourselves and see greed and passivity, bias and priviledge, and offer all of it to the Holy Spirit to be undone.

Roshi Philip Kapleau encouraged folks to forget their good deeds and confess their bad ones. It's a very effective practice for confounding and undoing ego.

What I am saying is - what I remember in my Advent writing and reading practice is - is that holy relationships allow us to look at "problems" in a new light, one that isn't so infused with high-stakes moral judgments and eternal outcomes. It's like when the the kitchen is a mess and has to be cleaned. I don't enjoy that work but it needs to be done and it's not confusing how to do it. So I do it.

But honestly, the way that work becomes so simple and integral - which is to say, the way I get past "I want it otherwise” (T-18.V.4:3) - is seeing the work in the context of the holy life I share with Chrisoula and the kids - homesteading, home-making, home-keeping, home-sharing, home-opening. Being present to the practice we cobble together - that we create and recreate together as family - is what healing is.

I think this is an aspect of holiness we often miss - it's not personal. It can't be judged It's not a quality that you have or I have; it's a quality our relationship creates, in which we share through behavioral practices of collaboration and communion. Nothing is conditional; everything necessary is freely given. The call is to show up, the practice is to show up and the theory is the rationale - for those who need one (and brothers and sisters I do need one) - for why showing up matters.

Really simply, a holy relationship is one that both recognizes and accepts its function of teaching and learning the way of happiness and peace.

In my experience, it is a relationship that is also devoted to mutual aid and equitable distribution of resources because those kinds of social practices facilitate the conditions in which teaching and learning can succesfully occur. We want everyone to be with us. It’s not a happy dream otherwise.

Are you in that relationship? Are you offering that relationship? Have you said yes to the offer of that relationship?

All relationships have the potential to be holy, and all holy relationships occasionally fall back into specialness. We have to be really open-minded and patient with one another, figuring out this new way of being together, of being holy together. Or rather, this old way of being with one another that we have forgotten but can remember and do, together.

Thank you, always, for helping me remember (and helping me remember to remember). We are in this together, and I couldn’t ask for better traveling companions. None of us could.

~ Sean