Surrender

“The first step toward change is awareness. The second is acceptance.”  ~Nathaniel Branden, Canadian psychotherapist and writer (b 1930)

John woke up Monday morning and realized he no longer had a job. He had been laid off two weeks earlier, but this was the first day he had truly grasped his situation.

Mechanically he reached out and hit the snooze button, but try as he might he could not “snooze.” It was 6:00 am, the time John normally arose to get ready for work. His internal clock was resistant to any other schedule. Finally, he sat up.

Sitting on the edge of the bed for what seemed like a very long time, his hands splayed over the edge of the mattress, John contemplated his situation. What was he going to do?

He had worked for the same company for years. “I really don’t know anything else,” he thought to himself. They had enough money to get along for a while; but then what? Finally, he slipped into his flip-flops and shuffled downstairs.

Diana, his wife of 22 years, had already left for work. On the counter was a pot of fresh coffee and a hand-written note: “Love you, see you tonight.” John poured himself a cup and stood there sipping it, pondering the note. “How could she love an unemployed man?” His thoughts stung him, even before he finished them.

He took his cup of coffee to the kitchen table and slumped into his usual chair. Staring at the flowered table cloth he pondered his fate. He had never been without a job. How could he face anyone ever again? In his mind, he had just become a statistic.

As he was sitting there staring, first at his hands and then at his coffee, his eyes fell upon his wife’s well-worn prayer book. John had never much liked religion. He thought it a huge waste of time. His Sundays were more productively spent playing golf with clients or the boss, or getting chores done around the house.

Diane had patiently encouraged him to come to church with her, but he only begrudgingly went on Christmas Eve and Easter Sunday. “I’m a CEO,” he used to say; “Christmas and Easter only.”

Now he had plenty of time, for anything, even God. He picked up the book and carefully examined the cover. Flipping through the pages he noticed Diana had marked various passages. “Wonder what she thought was so important.” Suddenly he closed the book and tossed it onto the table and started to get up. “I have better things to do right now, like look for a job,” he thought.

From deep within him came a quiet little voice. “Better things to do? Who looks for a job at 6:30 am? What are you really afraid of?”

John reached out tentatively and picked up the prayer book a second time. This time he actually opened it to a page somewhere in the middle of the book. His eyes stopped on a line covered with bright yellow highlighter.

“I am with you always until the end of time” it read. “Hope that’s true,” he thought.

“Surrender” is not a word most people find appealing. It evokes thoughts of giving up and giving in. It is a word for losers, because winners would never surrender. Ever! Only wimps surrender. And yet, within the Christian consciousness surrender can be a path to personal peace, happiness and enlightenment.

Case in point, “personal image management” is a difficult and time-consuming pastime in which many of us participate. We try to affix the “who we are” to some firm foundation, whether it is a career, a title or past successes in our lives. The problem is that none of those things are ever truly “firm”.

Many of us define “who we are” by our careers. If you ever want to test this idea ask someone: What do you do? More often than not they will respond with their job title, rather than an explanation. If our sense of self is tied to a job, and the job goes away, we experience the angst and disillusionment John experienced.

How can surrender help us? How can we find joy and serenity by just giving up?

Part of the answer is that “surrender” has several meanings. They are both subtle and beneficial meanings other than simply giving up. To surrender something can mean giving up the unnecessary things in our lives, like surrendering our weapons (our defense mechanisms). Perhaps the most significant meaning of surrender is to give ourselves to something, wholeheartedly, and without reservation.

The season of Lent is a time of surrender. It is a time to give up the false images of “who we are” in favor of “who we really are”, a time to stop relying on power, prestige or position to define what we are and a time to give ourselves over to our Lord and Creator. Lent calls us to surrender to Christ. He will always be with us - even until the end of time.

“Change is the essence of life. Be willing to surrender what you are to what you could become.”  ~Author unknown

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” is a reflection on being a Christian Steward in a secular and sometimes harsh world. This reflection is written by James E. Carper, of Simi Valley, California. All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Graven Images

 

“The image is one thing and the human being is another. It's very hard to live up to an image…” ~Elvis Presley, American singer and cultural icon (1935-1977)

We exited the Old City through the Zion Gate. The Church of the Dormition rose up to our right. Its unique circular structure and wide blue dome is hard to miss. The church commemorates the “falling asleep” of Mary, the mother of Jesus, before she was summoned to heaven for eternity, according to the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox tradition.

The structure was impressive, but not our reason for coming to the top of Mount Zion. We were on our way to see David’s tomb, which is also the site of Cenacle, believed to be the location of the Last Supper.

The walkway was flanked by high stone walls. Near the entrance to the tomb we passed a large, bronze-colored statue of King David.

He was seated on a cloth-covered pedestal and was appropriately depicted holding a huge harp to his right side with both hands. The statue was also impressive, but our tour group rushed by, anxious to see the famous room of Christ’s last meal.

Forty-five minutes later, having visited “the room” and having stood in front of the purple, velvet-draped coffin, we were headed back along the same walkway.  The Statue of David loomed up to our left. This time we stopped to admire it.

The statue had been donated about three years earlier, by a Russian Christian, Andrei Bykov. It was intended as a gift to the Holy City. At Bykov’s request, his statue was located near the entrance to the site of the legendary king’s tomb, on Mount Zion.

The figure’s bearing was regal. He wore a crown and had a sculpted beard. The image was more like a Greek God than a Hebrew Monarch.

What was disturbing was David’s face. The nose of the statue had been broken off. The tour guide explained it had happened less than a month after it had first gone on display. Since that time, whenever it was repaired, within a few weeks it was broken again.

“Who’s doing it?” asked a man with a Bronx accent and wearing a Yankees baseball cap. “Arabs?”

“At first we thought it might be members of one of a couple of Muslim factions within the city,” the guide explained patiently. “But, this didn’t seem to make sense. Placing a statue of King David near the entrance to his tomb seems to make logical sense.” “And it wasn’t in a Muslim area or near a Mosque.”

“Finally, surveillance cameras were set up in hopes of catching some images of who was doing it.”

“Who was doing it?” someone else asked.

“A group of conservative Hebrew students.”

We all looked at each other in amazement. “Why?” someone finally asked. “Wouldn’t they be honored to have a beautiful statue of King David like this near the entrance to his tomb?”

“One would think so,” replied the guide. “except in Exodus it says, ‘Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.’ According to their faith tradition, placing a graven image of the greatest Hebrew leader ever, near the entrance of his tomb isn’t a compliment, it amounts to sacrilege – an insult!”

Both the Hebrew and Islamic faith have prohibitions against statues and other such “graven” images. At first blush, this seems extreme in light of our modern culture in which we are deluged with images. To us, “image” is important, or so it seems. The question is: Which image?

One of the most common criticisms of the Barbie doll was that she promoted an unrealistic body image for young women, leading to a risk that girls who attempted to emulate her would become anorexic. Similar concerns have been leveled regarding the body of Lara Croft in the video game, “Tomb Raider.” Movies, the media and advertising all project similar unrealistic images of how we should look, act, and think. One could argue these are all “graven images.”

Where our image comes from is important. Our image of ourselves is often driven by our desires, rather than by who we really are. We try to become what we want to be, or what we think we should be, rather than who God made us to be.

This translates into our relationships as well. We often love people for who we want them to be, trying to “make them over” into what we desire. This image may simply be the distorted reflection of who we think we are or who we desire to be.

Think for example of the tremendous pressure brought to bear on self-image by gangs and cliques. These groups send a very clear message: “Adopt our image or be ostracized.” “Be like us or perish.”

    

Without question, defacing a statue is vandalism; but do we not, in some ways, “de-face” ourselves. By expending our efforts to become a someone or something other than the person God made us to be, we may be vandalizing ourselves.

God made us in His own image. It’s hard to improve on that.

Dear God: Help me to become the person you created me to be.

“Your life is shaped by the end you live for.” ~ Thomas Merton, Anglo-American Catholic writer and mystic. (1915-1968)

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship”  All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Running on Empty

“Carpe Diem! Rejoice while you are alive; enjoy the day; live life to the fullest; make the most of what you have. It is later than you think.” ~Horace, Ancient Roman Poet (65 – 8BC)

It was early Thursday morning and I was sitting at my desk staring at the screen of my laptop. I wasn’t reading anything or even seeing what was on the screen. I was just staring.

Three days into the work week and I was already physically, mentally and emotionally spent. Why was I so tired? It wasn’t as if anything major had gone wrong. So what had brought me to this moment of “burned out” inactivity?

It had been the accumulation of many irritations, misfires, grievances, resentments and setbacks. “It’s the ants that getcha, not the elephants,” a friend of mine used to say. Well the ants were having their way with me this week. I had been staked to the ant hill and smeared with honey.

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, eyes closed, wondering what to do about this stress-induced log jam of inactivity. My thoughts drifted back to a meditation class I had taken.

“It’s not the work, it’s the worry,” the instructor had said. “We spend so much time thinking about how much we have to do that we don’t do anything.”  The answer to the problem is to simply do something, start something, just put one foot in front of the other.

My eyes started to refocus on the screen. I leaned forward and began to tap away slowly at the keys. There was a letter which needed to go out in the morning mail.

There is an oft-told tale about a journalist who went to visit a famous Zen master. While the master quietly served tea, the journalist talked about Zen. The master poured the visitor's cup to the brim, and then kept pouring. The man watched the overflowing cup with surprise. “Stop, It's overfull!” He blurted out. Calmly the master put down the pot. “You are like this cup,” the master replied, “How can I explain Zen to you unless you first empty your cup.”

The problem many of us experience in life is not that we “run on empty.” In point of fact, most of us “run on full” or overfull. We fill ourselves with worrying about what we need to do while at the same time trying to focus on what we are currently doing. 

Most of us have a bad case of the “Igotta’s”: I’ve gotta get this done and I’ve gotta get that done. By mentally and emotionally carrying around all the things we think are important and that we need to get done, we impair our emotional resilience. Minor inconveniences become major catastrophes because they put us “off schedule.”

Running on full also means having no room for anything or anyone else. When our lives become a laundry list of unnecessary things that we believe are necessary – things which must be done – we often miss the really important moments: the chance meeting with a friend, a meaningful conversation with a loved one, or even an encounter with our Creator.

Many of us see our Lenten practices as a throw-back to a bygone era without any practical application to today’s modern world. “What are you giving up for Lent?” we ask, expecting a clever answer in response. And yet, most of us desperately need to give some things up, before we just give up completely.

Lent, gives us the opportunity to empty ourselves; to make space for more important things.  What if, for example, we gave up technology one day a week and spent the time with loved ones like our children?  What if we spent one night a week with our spouse without television? What if we set aside quiet time in the morning for prayer or just quiet meditation?

When we empty ourselves, we give ourselves room for the important things: love, compassion, concern, and room for a loving God. This helps us regain the emotional resilience we all need.

My exhaustion that Thursday morning was not due to a lack of stamina (of figuratively running out of gas). Rather, my exhaustion arose out of my trying to manage everything at once; to be responsible for everything at once, to do everything at once.

This Lenten season, I plan on doing my best to try “running on empty” and I am inviting you along for the ride. Together, I’m sure we will find we can go a lot farther than we thought. 

Dear God: Help me remove the clutter of my life.

“Lent is the time to make new efforts to be what we say we want to be.”  ~from Sister Joan Chittister's book, The Rule of Benedict: Insight for the Ages

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” is a reflection on being a Christian Steward in a secular and sometimes harsh world. This reflection is written by James E. Carper, Director of Development, Southeast Ventura County YMCA; Thousand Oaks, California. All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.”

E-dging G-od O-ut

“Anytime there is a struggle between doing what is actually right and doing what seems right, then your ego is interfering with your decision.” ~Darren L. Johnson, President/CEO InsideOut Learning

Though it was early Thursday morning, my perfectionist/ego brain was operating at max capacity. The very thought of a “national webinar” was thrilling. My voice and thoughts being broadcast to people throughout the US was just so gratifying and energizing. It had taken weeks to perfect the slideshow. Even so I spent the next three hours rehearsing and re-rehearsing, making sure things flowed just so.

Finally, fifteen minutes before “show time” the technician checked in, the application uploaded, and the person responsible for introducing me was signed in. At 10:05 am PST we launched. The hour passed quickly and before I knew it I was answering questions and accepting congratulations for a job well done.

My sense of self-worth soared. Throughout the remainder of the day I frequently found myself sharing my experience with others. Of course the “sharing” was often accomplished by introducing the subject into a conversation to which it was irrelevant. No matter; I had done my first NATIONAL webinar. That night I slept soundly secure in the fact that I had done a “good job.”

Early Friday morning, I arrived at the office, coffee in hand. After I hung up my dress jacket, booted up my computer and checked my messages I settled into my routine.

I customarily did my morning prayers shortly after I arrived at the office. It was quiet at this early hour and free of distractions. I slid my keyboard tray open. Because I use a laptop, the sliding tray was available for other things. It was a particularly good place for my prayer book which could remain open, available and out of sight.

The tray slid open smoothly and quietly. I stared down at the open book, trying to comprehend what was staring me in the face. “Wednesday, Evening Prayer” it read at the top of the page. That was odd. It should have read: “Thursday, Evening Prayer.”

Slowly, I began to realize what had happened. The morning before I had been so focused on preparing for my “big moment” and in the afternoon, so exuberant over my fleeting “15 minutes of fame” I had forgotten to say my prayers. As a Deacon candidate, these prayers were more than just time well-spent with my Creator; they were a requirement.

I proceeded to do my Friday Liturgy of the Hours slowly and carefully. Having finished the prayers, I still felt the need to do something to “compensate” for my oversight. The daily Gospel readings are available online.

Keying to the correct screen, I began to read from the Gospel according to Mark. Suddenly, I stopped. There in the middle of the page it read: “What profit is there for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?”

“Thank God,” I thought to myself. “Message received.”

Ego may very well be the most destructive force on earth. Without a doubt it is one of the greatest enemies of human kind. It starts wars, fuels racism, justifies bad behavior and destroys relationships. It is what makes some people “believe that Earth is the center of the universe and humans are the most important species, the supreme expression of creation” (Ann Druyan, American author and CEO).

Ego feeds the need for approval, the desire to control and a willingness to judge others. From a steward’s point of view, our ego wastes our time. My ego distracted me from spending time in prayer; but it could have just as easily distracted me from my family, my friends or helping someone in need.

Ego is, first and foremost, an addiction. What separates addictions from other forms of behavior is that addictions require constant feeding and attention. A little does not go a long way. The gratification of today’s hard won honors quickly dissipates, requiring new honors to replace them.

The real irony is that, deep beneath an inflated ego, we usually find an insecure or fearful spirit. There are no superiority complexes; only inferiority complexes, pretending to be superior.

If I had spent my time in prayer that morning, trusting in God, and the abilities he has given me, I probably would have done just a well, and without all the stress.    

Our egos can never be satisfied, but, through God, we can come to live a satisfying life.

Dear God: Today I will trust in you and not in me.

“It is the nature of the ego to take, and the nature of the spirit to share.” ~proverb

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship”  All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Value Added

“The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.” ~Frederick Buechner, educator, writer, theologian (b 1926)

Mary and Margaret sat quietly sipping their soup. Sunlight poured in through the large glass windows of the dining room. Though it was a holiday, there were a number of people quietly eating their holiday luncheon, some sitting by themselves. It was surprisingly busy at the care facility for a day when businesses were closed and families were gathering to celebrate. 

At the ripe old age of 99, an age she stubbornly refused to admit, Mary had outlived her family. Her husband had passed away years before and her son only recently. There was grandchild somewhere, who appeared at random times, allegedly for “gas money.” Margaret was simply unsure if she had any living relatives, but the staff confirmed there was no known family and no one visited her. 

The soup bowls were removed and the salad brought. “Would you like turkey or roast beef?” the server asked with a warm smile. Mary chose turkey and Margaret roast beef, but only after a lot of questions about how it had been prepared. Mary talked about her husband-- her handsome husband -- and their life together. But it was her son’s death she was thinking about. “No one should have to bury a child.” Her tone was almost instructive. 

After some gentle questioning, Margaret revealed she was from California. She had been a school teacher, but had never married. “The children I taught were my life.”

So went the meal: gentle questions and much repetition. 

We were finishing the cheesecake and coffee when Mary began to ponder something. “Where is your family today?” she asked, holding us with her inquisitive gaze. Teresa and I looked at each other, surprised by the question. 

“Our families are all back east,” I responded finally. Our daughter’s husband’s family lives in Virginia, so the two of them are back there spending the holidays with them. It’s just the two of us this year,” I finished with a smile. 

Mary considered my answer for a few moments. “So you’re here because you needed someone to spend the holiday with I imagine.” 

My response stuck in my throat. I was about to tell Mary and Margaret that we had made a special effort to spend the holiday with them. That we had even brought them presents. I wanted her to know we were good people who were trying to do a good thing for their benefit.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” I said finally. “We didn’t have anyone to spend the day with so we came here. Thank you for sharing this meal with us.” 

Mary and Margaret looked at each other and smiled. “Glad we could be of help,” Mary responded. “You’re pretty good company, too.”  

“Think we could get a little more coffee over here?” she said to the server.   

Many of us view “being of service” to others as fulfilling their physical needs. And the importance of this type of service should not be diminished. We should feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless, heal the sick and visit the lonely. There is, however, a deeper need that we often overlook while ministering to the physical needs of others. 

We all need to feel valued and have the sense that our lives count for something. Often we judge our value by our careers. Productivity equals value. As a consequence of people living longer, we long out-live our careers and, for many of us, also the thing which gave value to our lives. Our seniors do still add value to the world, and we need to take every opportunity to remind them of that.

Teresa and I were being good stewards when we chose to spend time with Mary and Margaret on that holiday afternoon. And it would have been easy to take credit for what we were doing. But the greater gift was the one Mary and Margaret gave us – the vision to see that they were good stewards, too – sharing themselves with us and reminding us that every life and all time is a gift.  Ours and theirs!  

Dear God: Help me to add value to the lives of others. 

“Helping, fixing and serving represent three different ways of seeing life. When you help, you see life as weak. When you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole. Fixing and helping may be the work of the ego, and service the work of the soul.” ~ Rachel Naomi Remen, clinical professor, holistic healer, speaker and writer.

 

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

 
“90 Second Stewardship” All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

We're #1

“Some people think football is a matter of life and death. I assure you, it’s much more serious than that.” ~Bill Shankly, Scottish soccer player and manager (1913-1981)

Maureen made her way along 4^th Street. The spires of St. Michael the Archangel loomed at the end of the next block. She had already circumnavigated the line coming out of the bodega on 2^nd. People were stocking up on beer and munchies for the big game and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Maureen Malachy MacQuade had traveled this route to church every Sunday for the past 57 years. She would leave her little brownstone walk-up on O’Meara Avenue and make the 15 minute walk to St Mike’s. She always thought of the tough old Archangel as Mike.  Michael was a name for cute little boys.

Today the trip was going to take her almost 25 minutes. People were everywhere trying to get things done, errands run, and party supplies and snacks purchased before the 3:30 pm kickoff time. The street was crowded and the going was slow.

She had left at noon for the 12:30 PM Mass. Still a block away, it was already 12:20. There would be no time today for her to say her rosary.

Maureen turned left and started up the stone stairs taking them carefully one at the time. At this hour there should have been people rushing into church. Instead, there were only a couple of the die-hards on the expansive staircase ahead of her.

Monsignor Joe was greeting people at the main door. “Good afternoon,” he greeted Maureen in his deep baritone voice. “How are you this fine Sunday afternoon?” “Good as I can be at my age,” she replied with a smile.

Maureen glanced past the Pastor into the sanctuary. “I don’t think there are 20 people in there” she said with surprise.” “It is Super Bowl Sunday after all,” the Monsignor mused. “Well I’m sure God doesn’t give a toss about the Super Bowl,” Maureen retorted. “He’s here with us, where he belongs.”

She started into the church. Then a thought struck her. Turning she looked squarely at the Monsignor. “What are you doing out here greeting,” she asked. “Aren’t you saying 12:30 Mass, Father?”

“Not today,” he replied with a wry smile. “I have somewhere I’m supposed to be this afternoon.” Our new young Associate is saying Mass.”

The bells began to ring and Msgr. Joe started down the stairs.

“Where do you have to be that’s so important?” Maureen persisted.

Turning to face her, he considered his response for a moment.

“A Super Bowl party at the O’Shaugnessy’s,” he said finally with a glint in his eye and his palms turned outward in a placating manner.

He turned away heading for the rectory across the street.

“Does God care about the Super Bowl?” writes Michael Freund in the Jerusalem Post. (This insightful article can still be read on line).

Freund quotes Hall of Fame quarterback Fran Tarkenton: “As a player… I never understood why God would care who won a game between my team and another. It seemed like there were many far more important things going on in the world.”

If God numbers the hairs on each of our heads, it would be surprising that an event involving 111.4 million human beings would escape his notice, or not be worthy of his time.

We mortals have a compulsion to prioritize things by their importance to us. Doing this is worthy of my time, doing that is not. This event is worthy of my attention, that event is not. This group of people or person is worthy, that group or person is not.

In a sense we profile things and people based on what we think deserves our attention; perhaps looking for those things which will improve our own profile. Essentially, we spend our time on our priorities; those things which will give us the most pleasure, enhance our image or further our careers.

God doesn’t operate this way. He is the great equalizer. We are all number 1. He loves and values everything and everyone the same. He loves Madonna, the rock star, just as much as the original Madonna, Mary, his mother. He loves the people praying at Mass the same as he loves those cheering at the Super Bowl.

God is not some far-away being, too supreme and too busy to be bothered with us because he has more important things to do. Rather God, and his love for us, is so all encompassing He embraces all of us and all of his creation; yes even football.

This should remind us that as stewards of God’s creation, we too are called to pay attention to what is going on around us; to not be so self absorbed, but to be very aware. The great figures of the parables (the Good Samaritan, the Father of the Prodigal Son) are people who stepped outside themselves. Being very aware, they had a sense of global goodness rather than a self centered importance.

In the final accounting, it’s not about us. We are called to see everything as being of value. We are called to love everything, just the same.

Dear God: Remind me today that all your creation is important.

“And just as a father takes pleasure in watching his children play, I’d like to believe that our Father in Heaven will also take delight in this Sunday’s drama on the field.” ~Michael Fruend, Native New Yorker (and Giants fan), correspondent and syndicated columnist for the Jerusalem Post

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship”  All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.

Ancient Doors

“A small key opens big doors.”  ~Turkish proverb

Abdul-Fattah quietly closed the door to his little house in the Muslim Quarter. He didn’t want to wake his family who were all sleeping. It was early and still dark at this hour.

He checked one last time, patting his jacket to make sure he had the old key. His own door safely latched and the “other” key secured in his pocket, he paused to look up and down the narrow street. He saw no one, though if he had he would have known them on sight. Abdul-Fattah knew everyone. His family and their ancestors had lived here for many years.

He turned and headed toward Lion’s Gate Street. Praying to himself as he went; carefully fingering his Misbaha (prayer beads). Abdul prayed the Tasbih of Fatima. Thirty four times he would recite “Allahu Akbar” (God is the greatest), then “Al-hamdu lilah” 33 times (Praise be to God), and finally “Subhan Allah” 33 times (Glory be to God). This was the best time of the day – just him, his prayers and his God.

“Al-hamdu lilah.” Abdul turned left on Al Wad. When he had first been entrusted with the duties of caretaker of the key he had thought it a great inconvenience. As a male member of the Nuseibeh family (the oldest Arab family in Jerusalem), responsibility for the key had fallen to him – a responsibility which went back generations. “Why couldn’t these so-called “Men of God,” handle this on their own,” he had wondered.

Now, many years later, he finally understood the wisdom of the Sultan Saladin. It had been the right thing to do. It had become, for Abdul-Fattah, a daily mission; a holy thing. His parents must have known this when they named him. After all, his name, Abdul-Fattah, meant “Servant of the Opener of the Gates of Sustenance”. The thought made him smile.

He said his last “Al-hamdu lilah” and began the first “Sudhan Allah” as he turned right continuing along the Via Dolorosa. Bits of sunlight began to appear at the edges of the ancient walls.

Passing the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer on his left he smelled Turkish coffee brewing somewhere. He would have a cup with his old friend Abad later that morning. Stepping through the archway in front of him, the ancient church appeared on his right. It had been a holy site since 300 CE.  Abdul made his way down the stone steps to the courtyard. Even at this early hour there were already pilgrims and tourists lingering by the door.

Reaching the doorway, he reverently removed the key from his pocket. The key slid home into the lock. Leaning his weight slightly against the door Abdul turned the key, throwing the bolt, and opened the door. The waiting pilgrims rushed inside before the key was out of the lock.

Returning the key to the safety of his pocket, he gazed upward at the ancient walls. He, a Muslim, had just opened the door to one of the holiest sites in all of Christendom, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, where Jesus had been entombed.

A warm, reassuring feeling came over him. After a last look at the open door, Abdul headed off for his coffee with Abad. As he went he wondered if both Muhammad and Jesus would greet him when he got to heaven.  “Allahu Akbar” (God is the greatest).

God gifts us all with a unique array of time, talents and treasure. So unique, in fact, that God made each of us “one of a kind.” Stewards (of all faiths) do their best to fulfill God’s intent by using their gifts to better the world and its inhabitants.

Using our gifts for the benefit of others is important, but how do we go about the reception of the gifts of others? In other words, how do we respond when someone else’s “stewardship” is directed at us?

In the individualistic world we live in, many of us have difficulty accepting help from anyone, even family and friends. How do we respond when that help comes from a totally unexpected source – one foreign to us?

Sometimes, the people God sends our way are not the ones we would like to encounter and yet each one is exactly the right person for the situation. Putting a Muslim family in charge of the entrance to Christianity’s holiest location seems counter-intuitive. And yet, amongst a group of feuding and stubborn Christians, it was exactly the right choice. It is a decision which has worked for 820 years.

When God’s help comes, we should not turn it away, regardless of who our benefactor might be.

Dear God: Who will you send to help me today?

“You can’t always get what you want, but you always get what you need.” ~Mick Jagger 1969 (“Let it Bleed” album)

*Note: The primary custodians of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher are the Eastern Orthodox, Armenian Apostolic, and Roman Catholic Churches. The Greek Orthodox control the largest portion. The Coptic Orthodox, the Ethiopian Orthodox and the Syriac Orthodox have lesser responsibilities, including shrines and other structures within and around the building. Times and places of worship for each community are strictly regulated in common areas. 

We often hear about discord amongst Jews, Muslims and Christians, but at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, it is the Christians who can’t seem to get along.  As a result, none of them control the main entrance. In 1192, Sultan Saladin (Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn Yūsuf ibn Ayyūb) the Sultan of Egypt and Syria assigned responsibility for the front door to the Nuseibeh family (the oldest Arab family in Jerusalem). The Joudeh Al-Goudia family was entrusted with the keys of the Holy Sepulchre by the Ottomans a few hundred years later. These two Muslim families now share the responsibility. (See Wikipedia, Church of the Holy Sepulcher, Status Quo)

©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

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