Day 3 Transmutation of Faith

Day three at the ashram and I begin a new habit of being a scribe. I write down a verse or line that has meaning to me. The act of writing it again makes it a part of the body’s memory.

Today it was a particularly succulent translation of Psalm 19. These words rose up from the page and then seeped into my heart:

“God’s universe is perfect

awing the mind.

God’s truth is subtle,

baffling the intellect.

God’s law is complete,

quickening he breath.

God’s compassion is fathomless,

refreshing the soul.

God’s justice is absolute,

lighting up the eyes.

God’s love is radiance,

rejoicing the heart,

more precious than fine gold,

sweeter than honey from the comb.

Help me be aware of my selfishness

without undue shame or self judgment.

Let me always feel you present

in every atom of my life.

Let me keep surrendering myself

until I am utterly transparent.

Let my words be rooted in honesty

and my thoughts be lost in your light,

Unnamable God,

my essence,

my origin,

my life blood.”

From Ladinsky’s book Love Poems From God

I am in the temple meditating and the words and tune from an old Christian hymn drift inside of me

“Holy Holy Holy Lord God Almighty.

early in the morning I shall raise my song to thee.”

This verse and this song rose from the memory of a church I'd been part of decades ago. It was a place where many would have thought this ashram experience blasphemous, or at least dangerous. I let those thoughts pass. For the song was beautiful inside my chest. I recited the next verse softly:

“Only thou art holy.

There are none beside the.

Which wert and art

and evermore shall be.”

In the temple, beside me, a disciple of Yogananda begins the low slung tones of

OM… OM. 

I am filled with joy.

I join in with his rhythmical chant.

It is not only melding of beliefs here but also a transmutation of faiths I've experienced in earlier parts of my life. The duality thinking that this is bad that is good melted away for long moments in the meditation hall.

Am I crazy, singing evangelical songs and reciting old testament poems in an ashram? Yes, to the world perhaps, crazy. Probably crazy just for being here. Perhaps not.

The separation between sects and faiths falls apart like a brittle wall in an earthquake of devotion. None of that matters now. God is everywhere, even in church, even in the memory of an old song I thought I’d forgotten.

Between the Old and the New

Rick

Copyright Richard Sievers, December 201, All Rights Reserved