Returning to My Roots
Today, I celebrate the birthday of a child I once knew, now a young woman. I gave her the gift of a rosary to mark this occasion. This particular rosary contains a relic from the Chapelle of the Miraculous Medal in Paris, where Mary appeared to St Catherine Laboure and asked that a medal of her image be struck.
In this year of many changes, but really, in the year or so prior to this one - I found myself drifting back to spiritual practices that had nourished me in my youth and young adulthood - such as the saying of rosaries, novenas, and so forth...
While in the last several decades I immersed myself in the study of Buddhism, Hinduism and Tantra, and Judaism in the decade before that - I never veered too far from what a dear friend once referred to as my "default setting."
As a theologian and educator for nearly twenty-five years, I was blessed with the opportunity to teach comparative religions - a subject near and dear to my heart. When in Rome - I do as the Romans - worshipping in churches, temples, and mosques - feeling at home and sensing the Presence of God everywhere I go. Spirituality has always been central to who I am, and I delight in the Unity that is at the heart of all diversity.
And while I have strayed from dogmatic aspects of my tradition - I continue to embrace the rich heritage of spiritual practices, teachings and writings. These are as embedded in me as my own DNA.
This morning I shared a couple of spiritual practices from other traditions with my students - such as Ho'oponopono - a Hawaiian healing technique that aims at cleansing ourselves of erroneous thoughts and actions and which puts us in greater touch with God and our divine nature. I have written about this practice on this blog before.
There is a richness in the practices from diverse traditions - many of which are often similar in nature to our own. When I was in Istanbul last November, I bought a replica of a rosary used by one of the Sultans to recite the 99 names of Allah. I have Buddhist and Hindu malas used for japa - the recitation of mantras or the names of the Divine - and they are quite at home with various Catholic rosaries - of various decades and lengths - from the more traditional to a couple used to commemorate the Seven Sorrows of Mary. I have a couple blessed by saints as well.
Years ago, when I was studying for my doctorate at a Protestant seminary, a minister reminded me that "once a Roman, always a Roman." So - no matter where I have wandered, and how many traditions and practices I have sampled and embodied - my basic relationship to the Divine has not been altered. Instead, it has deepened over the years. When I visited the "home" of Mary the Mother of Jesus in Ephesus last year, I knew she had brought me there on purpose - and in doing so - she brought me "home" to myself as well.
In a very real sense - I have not returned to my roots. I never left them. Institutions may have become less hospitable and left me and others behind - but the root of spirituality is unchanging and is always inside my heart - like a flickering candle that will never go out. No one can - or will take that away from me.
In this year of many changes, but really, in the year or so prior to this one - I found myself drifting back to spiritual practices that had nourished me in my youth and young adulthood - such as the saying of rosaries, novenas, and so forth...
While in the last several decades I immersed myself in the study of Buddhism, Hinduism and Tantra, and Judaism in the decade before that - I never veered too far from what a dear friend once referred to as my "default setting."
As a theologian and educator for nearly twenty-five years, I was blessed with the opportunity to teach comparative religions - a subject near and dear to my heart. When in Rome - I do as the Romans - worshipping in churches, temples, and mosques - feeling at home and sensing the Presence of God everywhere I go. Spirituality has always been central to who I am, and I delight in the Unity that is at the heart of all diversity.
And while I have strayed from dogmatic aspects of my tradition - I continue to embrace the rich heritage of spiritual practices, teachings and writings. These are as embedded in me as my own DNA.
This morning I shared a couple of spiritual practices from other traditions with my students - such as Ho'oponopono - a Hawaiian healing technique that aims at cleansing ourselves of erroneous thoughts and actions and which puts us in greater touch with God and our divine nature. I have written about this practice on this blog before.
There is a richness in the practices from diverse traditions - many of which are often similar in nature to our own. When I was in Istanbul last November, I bought a replica of a rosary used by one of the Sultans to recite the 99 names of Allah. I have Buddhist and Hindu malas used for japa - the recitation of mantras or the names of the Divine - and they are quite at home with various Catholic rosaries - of various decades and lengths - from the more traditional to a couple used to commemorate the Seven Sorrows of Mary. I have a couple blessed by saints as well.
Years ago, when I was studying for my doctorate at a Protestant seminary, a minister reminded me that "once a Roman, always a Roman." So - no matter where I have wandered, and how many traditions and practices I have sampled and embodied - my basic relationship to the Divine has not been altered. Instead, it has deepened over the years. When I visited the "home" of Mary the Mother of Jesus in Ephesus last year, I knew she had brought me there on purpose - and in doing so - she brought me "home" to myself as well.
In a very real sense - I have not returned to my roots. I never left them. Institutions may have become less hospitable and left me and others behind - but the root of spirituality is unchanging and is always inside my heart - like a flickering candle that will never go out. No one can - or will take that away from me.
Comments
Sadgurunath Maharaj ki jay!
I am so glad you followed your heart, and I am sure it was worth a lot! Blessings to you, Olga