UNCONDITIONAL
Willing to experience aloneness,
I discover connection everywhere;
Turning to face my fear,
I meet the warrior who lives within;
Opening to my loss,
I gain the embrace of the universe;
Surrendering into emptiness,
I find fullness without end.
Each condition I flee from pursues me.
Each condition I welcome transforms me
And becomes itself transformed
Into its radiant jewel-_like essence.
I bow to the one who has made it so,
Who has crafted this Master Game;
To play it is pure delight,
To honor its form — true devotion.
by Jennifer Welwood
Meg Riley from the Church of the Larger Fellowship has resumed her seminarian’s support group for the fall. I can use all the support I can get and am delighted to return. This is a support group with a difference since often, as today we explore errors, then consciously forgive ourselves for them. Today her theme was privilege and she invited us, after reading this poem to consider sharing one of the times we showed privilege through things we wish we hadn’t said or done to someone who had less privilege in life or at least that situation. People talked about what I’ll call slips in consciousness in hurtful words they had said, to a person who is racial minority, transgender or agender folks, or about body shape and ableist language they had used. Worse all of us knew that whatever work we did to prevent these slips from escaping our mouths next time, something else would pop out like Jack escaping his proverbial box. Part of the process of the group is to consciously re-open the wound we carry about our slip, admit it, learn from it, and then forgive ourselves. It was powerful. This group is one of my spiritual homes. The poem took us into the place where we are welcoming transformation, turning toward the fear of saying or doing the wrong thing regarding privilege.
When Meg had us read the poem initially, I was thinking about formation. It seems right on for that point. But then maybe everything is about formation for me these days.
We ended our discussion with what Meg said was the original version of Rob Eller-Isaacs reading (#637):
A Litany of Atonement
For remaining silent when a single voice would have made a difference
I forgive myself, I forgive you, we begin again in love
For each time that our fears have made us rigid and inaccessible
I forgive myself, I forgive you, we begin again in love
For each time that we have struck out in anger without just cause
I forgive myself, I forgive you, we begin again in love
For each time that our greed has blinded us to the needs of others
I forgive myself, I forgive you, we begin again in love
For the selfishness which sets us apart and alone
I forgive myself, I forgive you, we begin again in love
For falling short of the admonitions of the spirit
I forgive myself, I forgive you, we begin again in love
For losing sight of our unity
I forgive myself, I forgive you, we begin again in love
For those and for so many acts both evident and subtle which have fueled the illusion of seperateness
I forgive myself, I forgive you, we begin again in love.