Make me a channel of your peace
Where there is hatred, let me bring your love
Where there is injury your pardon, Lord
And where there's doubt, true faith in you
D---/--A-/----/- DA D-
Make me a channel of your peace
Where there's despair in life, let me bring hope
Where there is darkness, only light
And where there's sadness ever joy
(Bridge)
O master grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love with all my soul
G-D-/A-D-/G-D-/E-A-
Make me a channel of your peace
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned
In giving to all men that we receive
And in dying that we're born to eternal life
Tzu-Lu asked how one should serve ghosts and spirits. The Master said, How can there be any proper service of spirits until living men have been properly served?
Tzu-lu then ventured upon a question about the dead [whether they are conscious]. The Master said, Until a man knows about the living, how can he know about the dead?
Winning a Jewish argument can sometimes be difficult.
There was once a rabbi from a small town in Russia. He was given a monthly salary and allowed to live in a residence owned by the community. After many years of service, the town's Jewish dignitaries decided that he should be removed from his job.
They discharged him and asked him to leave the house. He refused to go, and the case came before the Russian court. A judge there sent it to Rabbi Widrevitz.
The rabbi listened carefully to both sides and decides that the ousted rabbi had done nothing offensive, but that for the sake of the community, he should be discharged. He told the Jewish leaders that he had decided in their favor.
"But, he's still living in the house owned by the community," one said. "How can we get him to leave?"
"Compulsion is not a good idea." the rabbi said.
"What shall we do then?"
"There is a peaceful way. All of you should move from the town and leave him alone. That is my advice."
A stranger came to the house of Shammai. Shammai greeted the stranger and asked what he wanted. The stranger said that he wanted to learn the whole of the Torah while he stood on one foot. Shammai immediately saw that the stranger wished to make fun of him. He became angry and told the stranger to go away.
The stranger then went to the house of Hillel. Hillel greeted him and asked what he wanted. The stranger repeated his jeering request to be taught the whole of the Torah while standing on one foot. Hillel also saw that the stranger was mocking him, but Hillel did not become angry. Instead, Hillel said that he would teach the stranger as was wished.
Hillel began the lesson. "What is hateful to you do not do to your neighbor."
The stranger waited for more. Finally he asked, "Is that all the Torah?"
"Yes," said Hillel. "That is the foundation. All the rest is commentary. Go and study."
The stranger said, "Thank you Hillel. If that is the foundation, I will study all the Torah."
When I was younger, I had a strong aversion to the use of the word 'God.' In fact I avoided it and I avoided people who spoke about God. I attended a powerful workshop with a Huichol Indian shaman who was 104 years old. He introduced me to his culture's Deer God. I got really intrigued with this Deer God and it sort of got to me on a personal level.
After the workshop, I bought a bag from the shaman which had been used to gather peyote and this bag had deer woven into it. At home alone, I began getting image of the deer, and at the same time, live deer started wandering into my back yard. I meditated every day and began talking to the Deer God. Very slowly, over time, I found myself talking to the Deer God, saying "Deer God' this and 'Deer God' that.
One day I noticed that I was saying 'Dear God.' It was so powerful that I had to laugh. It was like I tricked myself into the use of that 'word'. It snuck it the back door. I've been in love with God ever since. -
by Martha Powers, Librarian, Sherwood, OR
A hare pursued by an eagle was in sore need of succor. It happened that the only creature in sight was a beetle, to which he appealed for help. The beetle bade him take courage, and on seeing the eagle approach called upon her to spare the suppliant who had sought its protection. But the eagle, despising so tiny a creature, devoured the hare before its eyes.
The beetle bore her a grudge for this, and was continually on the watch to see where she made her nest. Every time she laid eggs, it flew up to the nest, rolled the eggs out, and broke them. Driven from pillar to post, the eagle at last took refuge with Zeus and begged him to give her -his own sacred bird - a safe place to hatch her chick. Zeus allowed her to lay her eggs in his lap.
But the beetle saw her; so it made a ball of dung, and flying high above Zeus dropped it into his lap. Without stopping to think, Zeus got up to shake it off, and tipped out the eggs. Ever since that time, they say eagles do not nest during the season that beetles are about.
Moral: Do not hold anyone in contempt. You must remember that even the feeblest man, if you trample him in the mud, can find a way some day to pay you out.
Winter scoffed tauntingly at Spring. 'When you appear,' he said, 'no one stays still a moment longer. Some are off to meadows or woods: they must needs be picking lilies and other flowers, twiddling rose round their fingers to examine them, or sticking them in their hair. Other go on board ship and cross the wide ocean, maybe, to visit men of other lands; and not a man troubles himself anymore about gales or downpours of rain. Now I am like a ruler or dictator. I bid men look not up to the sky but down to the earth with fear and trembling, and sometime they have to resign themselves to staying indoors all day.' 'Yes,' replied Spring, 'and therefore men would gladly be rid of you. But with me it is different. they think my name very lovely - yes, by Zeus, the loveliest name of all names. When I am absent they cherish my memory, and when I reappear they are full of rejoicing.'
A fox got caught in a trap and saved its neck by leaving his tail behind him. However, his resulting image was not pleasing to the sight, a fox without his big bushy tail, so that he became weary of his life. But to make himself feel better, he called a congress of foxes to discourse to them on the trouble, uselessness and indecency of foxes wearing tails. But, no sooner than he had finished his say, but another cunning fox rises up and question whether the speaker was arguing against wearing the tails for the advantage of those who had tails, or to placate the deformity and disgrace of those that had none.
Moral: When a person has any notable defect or infirmity, whether by nature or accident, he often tries to pretend that the result is better than being whole.
Rebbe Baruch's grandson Yehiel was crying as he entered his grandfather's study. The concerned rebbe asked about the source of the tears.
"I have a friend who cheated me and left me alone to cry."
"Please explain," said the rebbe.
"The two of us were playing hide-and-seek, grandfather. It was my turn to hide, and I did it so well that my friend couldn't find me. Instead of continuing to look, he gave up. That's not fair, is it?"
The rebbe kissed the boy and began to cry. Yehiel asked why he was crying. The rebbe explained. "Like you, Yehiel, God, too, is unhappy. He is hiding and humanity does not look for him. Humanity has stopped its search. That also is not fair."
-Baruch of Medzeboth 1751-1811, Grandson of Baal Shem Tov
Rabbi Spektor was visited one day by a young, well-dressed man. The man had come to ask the sage to solve a vexing religious problem. The man did not believe in any religion, but he remained unsure about whether he should also discard his belief in God.
"I am glad you came," the rabbi said. "You say you don't believe. Tell me, have you mastered the Bible?"
"I can't claim that I have. I did read some parts as a child, but recently I have concentrated on my studies in the university."
"Perhaps the Talmud?" the rabbi inquired.
The young man looked surprised. "Rabbi, you don't expect me to waste time on anything like that."
"Okay, you know nothing about the Talmud. How about the great Jewish philosophers? What have you read of Maimonides, ibn Gabirol, or Moses Mendolssohn?"
"I haven't read a word any of them have written."
"Young man, you call yourself an unbeliever, yet you know nothing about Jewish literature. At least call yourself by your right name - you are an ordinary ignoramus."
-Isaac Elhannon Spektor, 1817-1896, Rabbi
There was an old shrine at the foot of the hill near a town.
One summer day, a storm hit the town. Many trees fell down in the wind. It rained so hard that the shrine was washed away.
The next day, people found a big hole. "The old shrine used to stand there," someone said. A boy shouted into the hole,
"Hello? Can anyone hear me?" There wasn't even an echo. The boy threw his red marble into the hole. People waited quietly, but no sound came back. "Boy! This hole must be really deep. It's the perfect place to throw things away," he thought.
The next day, the boy threw his test papers into the hole. Other people saw him and threw in things that they didn't want.
A few days later, a garbage truck dumped all its garbage into the hole. Soon all the garbage trucks in the town were dumping garbage into the hole. It was easier than burning it in the town plant.
A few years passed, but the hole never filled up. People became less and less worried about the garbage because there was a perfect place for it. Factories dumped industrial waste into the hole. Scientists even dumped nuclear waste there.
The town became clean and beautiful. More and more people came to live there.
One day a man was working on the roof of a new building. A voice above him shouted, "Hello? Can anybody hear me?" He looked up, but all he could see was the clear blue sky. He continued working.
Suddenly, a red marble hit the roof beside him. But he was too busy to notice it.
The traditional Hebrew word 'YHWH' has no vowels and is conventionally translated as 'Lord' in Jewish prayer books. IN Hebrew, people usually- in order to avoid pronouncing these letters - use the euphemism 'Adonai'. We felt very uncomfortable with that understanding of how to deal with those four letters. In translation, 'Adonai' is transcendent, 'up there', domination-oriented- rather than immanent, community -focused, and androgynous. One day I discovered a powerful and authentic way of dealing with the four letters and that was to pronounce it without any vowel sounds. The word came out like Yyyyhhhhwwwwhhh - just like a breathing sound - which I realized was of course authentically and correctly the 'real' name of God. Breathing is a powerful metaphor for God. God is truly the breath of life.
-Arthur Waskow, 56, Shalom Center, Philadelphia, Penn
If you are a tolerant person and another person is demanding something unreasonable, you may, without anger or ill-will, judge the situation and see if you need a counter measure. Then you take the countermeasure. In the case of Tibet, there is a lot of suffering under the name of liberation. But if I see the Chinese leaders as human beings - our neighbours, people with a long history and a high civilization- instead of having ill-will, I have respect. Doing this help reduce negative feelings and gives rise to patience and tolerance. This does not mean that I accept Chinese oppression. I do whatever I can to stand firm against oppression, but I do it without ill-will.... When your mind is dominated by anger, you become half-mad, and you won't be able to hit the target. -Dalai Lama #14
Once upon a time, when the science and art of gardening was not yet well established among men, there was a master-gardener. In addition to knowing all the qualities of plants, their nutritious, medicinal and aesthetic values, he had been granted a knowledge of the Herb of Longevity, and he lived for many hundreds of years.
In successive generations, he visited gardens and cultivated places throughout the world. In one place he planted a wonderful garden, and instructed the people in its upkeep and even in the theory of gardening. But, becoming accustomed to seeing some of the plants come up and flower every year, they soon forgot that others had to have their seeds collected, that some were propagated from cuttings, that some needed extra watering, and so on. The result was that the garden eventually became wild, and people started to regard this as the best garden that there could be.
After giving these people many chances to learn, the gardener expelled them and recruited another whole band of workers. He warned them that if they did not keep the garden in order, and study his methods, they would suffer for it. They, in turn, forgot - and, since they were lazy, tended only those fruits and flowers which were easily reared and allowed the others to die. Some of the first trainees came back to them from time to time, saying: 'You should do this and that,' but they drove them away, shouting: 'You are the ones who are departing from truth in this matter.'
But the master-gardener persisted. He made other gardens, wherever he could, and yet none was ever perfect except the one which he himself tended with his chief assistants. As it became known that there were many gardens and even many methods of gardening, people from one garden would visit those of another, to approve, to criticize, or to argue. Books were written, assemblies of gardeners were held, gardeners arranged themselves in grades according to what they thought to be the right order of precedence.
As is the way of men the difficulty of the gardeners remains that they are too easily attracted by the superficial. They say: 'I like this flower,' and they want everyone else to like it as well. It may, in spite of its attraction or abundance, be a weed which is choking other plants which could provide medicines or food which the people and the garden need for their sustenance and permanency.
Among these gardeners are those who prefer plants of one single colour. These they may describe as 'good'. There are others who will only tend the plants, while refusing to care about the paths or the gates, or even the fences.
When, at length, the ancient gardener died, he left as his endowment the whole knowledge of gardening, distributing it among the people who would understand in accordance with their capacities. So the science as well as the art of gardening remained as a scattered heritage in many gardens and also in some records of them.
People who are brought up in one garden or another generally have been so powerfully instructed as to the merits or demerits of how the inhabitants see things that they are almost incapable - though they make the effort - of realizing that they have to return to the concept of 'garden'. At the best, they generally only accept, reject, suspend judgment or look what they imagine are the common factors.
From time to time true gardeners do arise. Such is the abundance of semi-gardens that when they hear of real ones people say: 'Oh, yes. You are talking about a garden such as we already have, or we imagine.' What they have and what they imagine are both defective.
The real experts, who cannot reason with the quasi-gardeners, associate for the most part among themselves, putting into this or that garden something from the total stock which will enable it to maintain its vitality to some extent.
They are often forced to masquerade, because the people who want to learn from them seldom know about the fact of gardening as an art or science underlying everything that they have heard before. So they ask questions like: 'How can I get a more beautiful flower on these onions?'
The real gardeners may work with them because true gardeners can sometimes be brought into being, for the benefit of all mankind. They do not last long, but it is only through them that the knowledge can be truly learnt and people can come to see what a garden really is.
Once there was a rogue who was caught by the people of a village.
They tied him to a tree to contemplate the suffering which they were going to inflict on him; and went away, having decided to throw him into the sea that evening, after they had finished their day's work.
But a shepherd, who was not very intelligent, came along and asked the clever rogue why he was tied up like that.
'Ah,' said the rogue, 'some men have put me here because I will not accept their money.'
' Why do they want to give it to you and why will you not take it?' asked the astonished shepherd.
'Because I am a contemplative, and they want to corrupt me,' said the rogue; 'they are godless men.'
The shepherd suggested that he should take the rogue's place, and advised the rogue to run away and put himself out of the reach of the godless ones. So they changed places.
The citizens returned after nightfall, put a sack over the shepherd's head, tied him up, and threw him into the sea.
The next morning they were amazed to see the rogue coming into the village with a flock of sheep.
'Where have you been, and where did you get those animals?' they asked him.
'In the sea there are kindly spirits who reward all who jump in and "drown" in this manner,' said the rogue.
In almost less time than it takes to tell, the people rushed to the seashore and jumped in.That was how the rogue took over the village.
Many people put great emphasis on rites and rituals. Because of this, some people think the religion is the thing of past. It is waste of time. Religion is rigid and orthodox. Religion represents narrow-mindedness. Science has progressed beyond religion. Some people are worshipping. Some are reciting mantra. Some are moving beads on a mala (rosary). Some are singing religious songs. Some are visiting religious places like Palitana. Some are asking for rewards from god. Some want to improve their fate. Some are praying to go to heaven. Many activities like these are practiced on the name of religion. Is this really the religion? Answer is no if this is nothing more to it. Answer is Yes if there is more to it.
Once there was a famous preacher who could move his audience to tears with his eloquence. On the occasion of the funeral of a prominent citizen, he delivered an eulogy. He elaborated on the life of the deceased with touching verve, referred to the purity of his character, to the nobility of his deeds, and to the tragedy of his sudden departure. Nonetheless, his hearers remained unmoved. Not even the mourners in the immediate family were seen to shed a tear.
"Rabbi," asked one of the preacher's admirers wonderingly, "how is it you haven't been able to wring a single tear out of the mourners?"
"My job is only to turn on the faucet," answered the preacher. "Is it my fault if nothing comes out."
A merchant had a bird in a cage. He was going to India, the land from which the bird came, and asked him whether he could bring anything back for him. The bird asked for his freedom, but was refused. So he asked the merchant to visit a jungle in India and announce his captivity to the free birds who were there.
The merchant did so, and no sooner had he spoken than a wild bird, just like his own, fell senseless out of a tree on to the ground. The merchant thought that this must be a relative of his own bird, and felt sad that he should have caused this death.
When he got home, the bird asked him whether he had brought news from India. 'No,' said the merchant, 'I fear that my news is bad. One of your relations collapsed and fell at my feet as soon as I mentioned your captivity.'
As soon as these words were spoken the merchant's bird collapsed and fell to the bottom of the cage.
'The news of his kinsman's death has killed him too,' thought the merchant. Sorrowfully he picked up the bird and put it on the window-sill. At once the bird revived and flew to a near-by tree. 'Now you know,' he said, 'that what you thought was disaster was in fact good news for me. And how the message, the suggestion how to behave in order to free myself, was transmitted to me through you, my captor.' And he flew away, free at last.
Physics doesn't leave any room for magic- there can't be an omnipotent
being pulling our strings and determining our future. Any activity that
is designed to appease (or beg favors) from this mythical being is
probably not productive.
Instead of using religion as an excuse for not
going to a friend's wedding, declaring a war, or persecuting someone,
let's concentrate on what God really is: doing something nice for another
person with no hope of being repaid. Taking care of nature. Being nice
for no good reason. Never rationalizing behavior that hurts another.
Always giving more than you get. That's my God.
-Seth Godin, 30,
Video Producer, Mt. Vernon, New York.
My Church is the church of the eternally fascinated. Because the way it looks to me is that God is infinite. Religions don't hold up under the light of scrutiny so I try to be like the swan who separates milk from water. I just chuck the rest.
It is all really one. You take a glass of water, that water has passed through Abraham Lincoln's body, Hitler's body, a gazelle in Africa's body. We're all one.
Past, present, and future
exist simultaneously; if I didn't blow my nose this morning, then Jesus
couldn't have been crucified. It's all inextricably bound.
-Anthony
Adams, 37, Screenwriter, Sherman Oaks, CA
I believe in the sun even when it isn't shining. I believe in love even
when I am alone. I believe in God even when He is silent.
-Jewish refugee, WW2, Poland
It seems to me that God is a convenient invention of the human mind.
We are aware of our own ignorance and so we find refuge in a
hypothetical being who knows everything. We are aware of our own
weakness and so we find refuge in a hypothetical being who is
all-powerful and who will take care of us out of a generalized
benevolence. By imagining a God, then, human beings avoid having to
do anything about their own ignorance and helplessness and this saves
a lot of trouble.
-Isaac Asimov, 70, Writer, NYC
When we want wisdom we go up the hill and talk to God.
Four days and
four nights, without food and water.
Yes, you can talk to God up on a
hill by yourself. You can say anything you want.
Nobody's there to
listen to you. That's between you and God and nobody else.
It's a great
feeling to be talking to God. I know. I did it way up on the mountain.
The wind was blowing. It was dark. It was cold. And I stood there and
I talked to God.
Earth teach me stillness
as the grasses are stilled with light.
Earth teach me suffering
as old stones suffer with memory.
Earth teach me humility
as blossoms are humble with beginning.
Earth teach me caring
as the mother who secures her young.
Earth teach me courage
as the tree which stands all alone.
Earth teach me limitation
as the ant which crawls on the ground.
Earth teach me freedom
as the eagle which soars in the sky.
Earth teach me resignation
as the leaves which die in the fall.
Earth teach me regeneration
as the seed which rises in the spring.
Earth teach me to forget myself
as melted snow forgets its life.
Earth teach me to remember kindness
as dry fields weep with rain.
monks, a man is on a journey. He comes to a vast stretch of water. On this side the shore is dangerous, but on the other it is safe and without danger. No boat goes to the other shore which is safe and without danger, nor is there any bridge for crossing over. Then that man gathers grass, wood, branches, and leaves and makes a raft, and with the help of that raft crosses over safely to the other side, exerting himself with his hands and feet. Having safely crossed over and gotten to the other side, he thinks, 'This raft was of great help to me. With its aid I have crossed safely over to this side, exerting myself with my hands and feet. It would be good if I carry this raft on my head or on my back whenever I go.'
"What do you think, O monks, if he acted in this way would that man be acting properly with regard to the raft?"
"No, sir."
"In which way, then, would he be acting properly with regard to the raft? Having crossed and gone over to the other side, suppose that man should think, "It would be good if I beached this raft on the shore, or moored it and left it afloat, and then went on my way wherever it may be.' Acting in this way would that man act properly with regard to the raft.
"In the same manner, O monks, I have taught a doctrine similar to a raft- it is for crossing over, and not for carrying. You who understand that the teaching is similar to a raft, should give up attachment to even the good Dharma; how much more then should you give up evil things."
-Majjhima Nikaya i.134-135
"A man encountered me on the road," Abu Yazid recalled.
" 'Where are you going?' he demanded.
" ' On the Pilgrimage," I replied.
" 'How much have you got?'
" ' Two hundred dirhams.'
" 'Come, give them to me,' the man demanded. 'I am a man with a family. Ci