Out of this Darkness and Into the Light: Through the Path of Humility

“Out of this Darkness and Into the Light: Through the Path of Humility” by Rev. Summer Albayati

(UU Mystics Winter Newsletter, 2017)

One of my favorite books is Out of Darkness Into Light by Rahman, Elias and Redding.  This book blends, beautifully, various spiritual teachings from Islam, Judaism and Christianity.  One such teaching to help us find the light comes from the Sufi teacher, Saadi of Shiraz.  The story goes something like this:

“As a child, Saadi of Shiraz sometimes took part when his father, a revered teacher, spent the night in prayer with his devoted students.  One night all the disciples fell asleep during the vigil, but not the young Saadi.  Feeling quite proud of himself, he said to his father, ‘Look at them!  You might think they were all dead!’  To which his father replied, ‘Beloved son, I wish you also were asleep like them, rather than slandering them.” (p.128)

This beautiful story taught Saadi that the path of humility was best.  As Unitarian Universalists, sometimes we can be self-righteous and think we know the right way to be in the world.  Yet we find ourselves at a difficult time in our nation’s history.  It is a dark and confusing time for liberal faith traditions.  We now find that our values are being challenged and are at risk of being lost forever.  This may scare us as we embark on a new journey -- one that feels as though the light is disappearing -- leaving us completely in the darkness.  

It may help us to remember that to be humble is considered one of the paths out of the darkness and into the light for mystics.  Certainly for Sufi mystics, one must have humility to truly become one with the beloved -- a unity immersed in love.

Now is the time to ask ourselves this:  How do we cultivate a humble way of being when we may believe that we hold the only truth? How does humbling ourselves -- a type of surrendering -- give us strength at such a difficult time in our country’s history?  Can we let go and let God -- allowing ourselves to have a deep faith that love will prevail?  

Let us challenge ourselves in the months to come.  Prayer, surrender, self-reflection are all tools we can use to humble ourselves and perhaps find the light that will draw us out of this darkness.  May it be so.  Ameen.

Sufism and Science: Purification of the Heart as a Path to Better Health by Rev. Summer Albayati (First published in the UU Mystics Fall 2016 Newsletter)

Sufism, the mystical dimension of Islam, is connected to science in many ways.  A perusal of the literature will speak about the following with regard to science and Sufism:  space-time, light, physics, nature, biology, electromagnetic waves, brain, and psychology, to name a few.  The field of neurotheology looks at the brain as it is connected to religion or spiritual beliefs.  It is here that one may focus on Sufism since the Sufi seeks to experience the oneness of the divine via mystical experiences.  And these mystical experiences may benefit us in many wonderful ways.  

Mystical experiences, it is thought, can be experienced during prayer or meditation.  It is a sensory experience.  That is, it is an experience of the divine while using the senses -- hearing, sight, smell, taste and touch.  These senses aid us in experiencing the divine, a mystical experience that sometimes cannot be captured in words.  The whirling dervish uses the body to whirl around while listening to music, and touching the ground, thus using multiple senses.  The dhikr, a form of meditation and prayer, in which one remembers the attributes of God, can be seen as using the senses to perceive or sense the divine spirit as well.  Some Sufis incorporate the repetitive speaking of God’s name with movement, perhaps outside where one can not only feel the earth under the feet, but through the wind on one’s face and through its intoxicating aroma.  It is primarily by using these senses and applying repetitive movements and chants that the Sufi may experience the various scientific modes listed above, as well as the effects of the neurotransmitters that can make one feel good.  Thus, the Sufi may experience feelings of ecstasy associated with an increase of endorphins.  

It is the feeling of the divine that may be what benefits us most.  For the Sufi, the view of the heart is central.  The heart is seen as the main organ to be cultivated in order to invoke compassion and love within us.  And it is when this heart is purified that we can gain wisdom or enlightenment, thus perhaps experiencing the divine wisdom even more.  So how can one cultivate a more loving and compassionate heart?  

For the Sufi, focusing on opening the heart is what will help us to express love and compassion and it is through meditation and prayer that we are able to experience the love of the divine. The effect may be an opening of our heart to all that love offers us.  But without utilizing the tools of prayer and meditation, we may not experience such love.  And the heart is so central in Sufism that without it we cannot experience God.  That is, God is found through our heart and this heart is so important to finding God.  

In science, it is known that the brain sends messages to the body so that the body functions.  We know that feelings of stress via thoughts and emotions affect our health.  And so we have been told that we need to be able to manage our stress through diet and exercise, and perhaps some way that helps our brain to empty -- emptying the mind, so to speak, in order to manage our thoughts and emotions.  Stressful thoughts lead to sadness and anger and all of the negative emotions that can hurt our physical body over time.  

But it is emotions that can be linked to our heart in a physical way that we may witness.  How many of us have experienced our heart racing if we are nervous or scared?  What about the real feeling of our heart aching after we have experienced significant loss?  It was thought before that these feelings in the heart were connected to the brain’s messages only.  That is, our thoughts and emotions emanate from the brain and send messages to our heart which results in our heart racing or aching.  But research now tells us that the heart sends messages to the brain as well.  It is no longer a one way street.  The heart may have some say in how we feel.  With this knowledge, we may see how perhaps the Sufis got it right when they focused on opening the heart.  By opening our hearts, through meditation and prayer, in order to experience more love, we may just be helping the rest of our body as well.  The brain sends messages to the whole body, so the heart could help the body be healthy by sending messages of love to the brain.  Now that’s a real reason to experience more love in our lives.  Better health?  Sign me up!

Most of us know the ancient Sufi mystic, Rumi, whose central message was love.  Let us end this article with Rumi’s message about the heart.  May its words guide us as we seek to open our hearts more to love.  May the words that we speak, hear, read, help us so that we may experience better health in the months to come.    

Surely there is a window from heart to heart:

they are not separate and far from each other.

Two earthenware lamps are not joined,

but their light is mingled as it moves.

No lover seeks union without the beloved seeking;

but the love of lovers makes the body thin as a bowstring,

while the love of loved ones makes them comely and plump.

When the lightning of love for the beloved

has shot into this heart, know that there is love in that heart.

When love for God has been doubled in your heart,

there is no doubt that God has love for you.

[III, 4391-6]   

Ameen.  May it be so.

"Mysticism, Faith, Life -- 3 Words To Live By" by Rev. Summer Albayati

(Article from UU Mystics Spring Newsletter)

Embracing mysticism to me means embracing the idea that we can never know -- truly know -- what will happen in our lives. For me, this concept has challenged me in amazing ways.  I have had to take that leap of faith and realize that I do not necessarily have complete control over my life.  And yet I must have faith, no matter what, that life will be okay.

The first time this happened to me was when I was diagnosed with cancer.  I had just given birth to my son and a few weeks later was told that I had a tumor that had grown rather quickly.  This invasive tumor wasn't present at the birth and then, poof -- like magic, this cancer was fast acting, and growing. It required a complete hysterectomy, chemotherapy and radiation in order to have a chance to survive.  

When faced with that unknown -- life or death -- one's faith can be challenged, to say the least.  For me, my faith was challenged in a big way and it was those holy moments, embracing the unknown in the everyday experiences, that kept me going:  eating miso soup every day after radiation (the only food that day), watching my beautiful baby boy entertain the ladies in the chemotherapy room for many hours, sitting on a bench while feeling the sun's rays on my face, and listening to the cars pass by as I lay in bed, exhausted and sick, but thankful to hear the sounds of life. 

Embracing mysticism means I strengthen my faith by believing that, whatever the suffering, whatever unknown path my life will take, I will be okay -- as long as I realize that it is the signs of life that are holy.  That way, no matter what my pain may be, there is a life preserve called life -- and it is continually happening, no matter what.  Mysticism, faith, life.  Those are three words this mystic cannot live without. 

Mindfulness During The Holiday Season

In The Miracle of Mindfulness, Thich Nhat Hanh said: “Consider the example of a table.  The table’s existence is possible due to the existence of things which we might call the “non-table world”: the forest where the wood grew and was cut, the carpenter, the iron ore which became the nails and screws, and countless other things which have relation to the table, the parents and ancestors of the carpenter, the sun and rain which made it possible for the trees to grow.

If you grasp the table’s reality then you see that in the table itself are present all those things which we normally think of as the non-table world.  If you took away any of those non-table elements and returned them to their sources -- the nails back to the iron ore, the wood to the forest, the carpenter to his parents -- the table would no longer exist.  

A person who looks at the table and can see the universe is a person who can see the way.”

In today's society filled with disconnect and suffering, how can we see the universe in everything? How do we cultivate that understanding within to see that we are interdependent beings living in an interdependent world?

The Zen Buddhist tradition of Mindfulness is one way. As I practice focusing on driving mindfully every day, being fully aware that I am driving instead of arriving at my destination with no idea as to how I got there because I was distracted by my own thoughts, I may actually see that the person who cuts me off is somehow connected to me. And that the engineers and mechanics who painstakingly designed and built my beloved car are all driving with me somehow. It's wild to think that way, but perhaps if we did we may all slow down a little and be more cautious when we drive.

Lately, the freeway signs in my neck of the woods remind drivers to "slow down to save a life." It's sad that our world has come to this. We must remind one another to slow down. But, you know, that's good advice. How can we all slow down to save our own lives and the lives of our loved ones? How can we slow down from the hustle and bustle of commerce during this holiday season? How can we be more mindful of what we are purchasing, and how each person who created that item of clothing that we wear, the electronic that we use, the toy that we play with, is with us -- somehow?

To be mindful is to be one with the whole universe. Perhaps, this may be the time to reflect on this concept more. You could meditate, pray or practice being mindful more -- being present in every moment. Or you could go back to scurrying from store to store to find that perfect gift, honking at cars that cut you off, and scowling at those who upset you -- not enjoying the gifts of the season. We all struggle with anger and anxiety at this time more than perhaps other months in the year. But what if we vowed to slow down this December?  

For me, I want to practice being more mindful this December. It is something I feel called to do -- need to do. Perhaps, in so doing, I will truly realize that we are all connected in this interdependent universe. I will see "the way" that Thich Nhat Hanh speaks about. Then when I mindfully slow down, I might save my own life. And that may just be the best gift I can give myself this holiday season.

May you find your perfect gift this December,

Rev. Summer

Death -- The Great Mystery of Life...

"On the day I die, don’t say he’s gone. Death has nothing to do with going away.

The sun sets, and the moon sets but they’re not gone.

Death is a coming together.

The human seed goes down into the ground like a bucket,

and comes up with some unimagined beauty.

Your mouth closes here, and immediately opens

with a shout of joy there."

--Rumi

Ah, death.  This is the October theme at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Kern County, where I serve as Consulting Minister.  

Looking at a monthly theme is a time of wonder and awe for me, and this month I must reflect on death and what it means.  Having recently experienced the death of my father, this theme could not come at a more relevant time in my life.

Like the Rumi poem, I tend to think of death and rebirth together.  Or maybe I want to believe that something will come out of the death.  Not just pain for those left behind.  Not just the hope of a heaven in which we will all be reunited.  Not just a life in which we die and…”that’s all folks!”  Somehow, I long to know that my loved ones will come back to me reincarnated -- whether in another form -- but back to me because I miss them profoundly.  

As I write this, I cannot help but remember the many conversations I have had with my mother regarding the death of my father.  A few weeks ago, we remembered his image, lying there in the hospital bed.  An image that will forever be imprinted in my memory.  

He was pronounced dead before we arrived at the hospital in the middle of the night.  I held his hand and cried and said my last goodbyes.  But to whom or what?  He was not there.  That was the shell.  His temple, so to speak.  The husks, within mystical Judaism, that contain lights --  and that we are to gather together to create G-d.  So, does this mean G-d is present in life only?   

Ah, death.  The great mystery of life.  We fear it.  We find blessings and relief within it.  We feel guilt and sadness and experience tears and laughter as we remember the dead.  As the fellowship looks more closely at this theme this month, I pray that we never forget to live every minute to its fullest.  Easy to say, yet more difficult to actually do.

Of course, no October can go by, especially with a theme of death, without looking at Halloween or All Hallows Eve/Samhain and various festivals of the dead throughout the world. Perhaps, one of my favorite holidays will bring comfort as I don my favorite annual costume and trick or treat with my son.  We love to watch scary movies, attend Halloween parties, and even visit Disneyland to see the creative costumes of “Cast Members.”  

Let me look toward the festivities of October with wonder and awe as I learn more about death and life, so that I can live out my call.  Perhaps, this month of studying death will lead me to a rebirth of my commitment to this beautiful faith of Unitarian Universalism.    

Namaste and may you find life within death this October,

Summer  

Forgive Me

THE POET ASKS FORGIVENESS
by
Fay Zwicky

Dead to the world I have failed you
Forgive me, traveller.
Thirsty, I was no fountain
Hungry, I was not bread
Tired, I was no pillow
Forgive my unwritten poems:
the many I have frozen with irony
the many I have trampled with anger
the many I have rejected in self-defence
the many I have ignored in fear
unaware, blind or fearful
I ignored them.
They clamoured everywhere
those unwritten poems.
They sought me out day and night
and I turned them away.
Forgive me the colours
they might have worn
Forgive me their eclipsed faces
They dared not venture from
the unwritten lines.
Under each inert hour of my silence
died a poem, unheeded

September is a time for change. The summer is over and school begins again -- reminding us of time and order. Some will begin a new career. Some -- a new ministry.  Others will just begin, again.
There are new possibilities with September.  Yet, I am reminded that it is the month for Yom Kippur in which the Jewish peoples ask for forgiveness from God and others.  This requires humbling oneself before God and others.  It is, also, the first of monthly themes that will be explored in worship at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Kern County, Bakersfield, where I serve as minister.

Forgiveness. It’s a difficult concept to fully
grasp. Not so easy to do.

In the aforementioned poem by Fay
Zwicky, a Jewish writer, she asks for
forgiveness for the poet within. She
apologizes for not writing and ignoring the
poems that were clamoring to be written. I
wonder, at this time of change, what might
we forgive of ourselves so we can begin,
again. What have you left undone? What
part of you is clamoring to be expressed?

For me, it is writing more. For me, it is
sending my manuscript to a publisher, and
facing possible rejection. Can I forgive
myself for ignoring the muse within? Can
I forgive myself for not sending the
manuscript yet? Can I begin, again, and
face this time of change with wonder and
open arms -- open to the possibilities of
transformation when I forgive myself?

May your September be filled with
forgiveness and new beginnings,
Summer

Spring is Rebirth and Re-Commitment!

The sun is shining upon our faces, the days are getting longer, the smell of jasmine is in the air -- all reminding us that spring is here.  What does this time of year symbolize? 

For some of us, it is a reminder of life.  We have come out of the dormant and cold days of winter.  Like a flower we emerge from underground and greet the day.  I

t is that time of year for rebirth.  It is the time of year when we look back through the winter of our lives and affirm that we will emerge whole, transformed, ready to take on life.  

For me, this spring is a reminder of my commitment to parish ministry.  I remember the sermon in which I explored the possibilities of "congregations and beyond."  I emerge re-committing myself to this vision of Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) President Peter Morales.  

It was only a little over a week ago when Morales reminded me of this concept again.  I was at a conference for ministers, religious educators and musicians that identify as multicultural, in which Morales spoke to an expansion of vision of the UUA and our congregations.  

There was a sense of hope in transforming our world and I, lovingly, remembered how the congregation where I serve in La Crescenta affirmed their commitment to justice and transformation of society, as we danced out into the streets.  This was our collective rebirth as a community of love who dared to carry on the previous visions of our Unitarian Universalist forbears.  

How will you experience rebirth in your life?  What re-commitments will you make this spring?

My prayer for you is this:  May you feel transformation within your life and the lives of your loved ones...

Namaste and blessed be,

Summer