Author: Nick Hilton

It is self-deception to think, “I am feeling or acting like this just now, but it’s not the real me.” If I hurt someone, or hate someone, or deceive someone even unintentionally I am responsible for the pain or loss that I cause; it is the consequence of my action. If I am afraid or sad, angry or worried it is a true, unawakened, more primitive version of myself than what I aspire to, but it is the real me nevertheless. I must take a close look in the spiritual mirror and furnish my self-image with the positive model of what I want to be, what God wants me to be, and move toward that ideal in my everyday thoughts and behavior.

The heart awakens when we participate in the pageant and ritual of religion. God’s perfect Truth, which is not a thing of the intellect or of our rational understanding, pierces the heart of the participant in music, in ancient, well-known verses, in the combined voices of souls, in prayer and in song. We become more aware, more sensitized to the grandeur of God’s creation because the effective church service transports us beyond our earthly human cares into the world of a shared spiritual experience. Our hearts awaken! The Word becomes flesh and dwells among us.

“She brought forth a son, her firstborn, whom she wrapped in his swaddling-clothes and laid in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”  (2 Luke 7.)

Our Grace arrives as a humble and helpless thing, primal and unadorned. It is born as if from nowhere, and its appearance is to people who may least expect it, to whom it is least likely: the lost, helpless, anonymous wanderers. Our Grace is not only unexpected, it is usually unwanted. There is no time; no room in our hearts for the image of the life to which we are to be devoted. We would prefer to be left to our own devices. Nevertheless it comes to us and in its swaddled, bawling reality, from the outbuildings of our crowded lives it calls to us until we realize that it is for this Grace that we too were born, and its majestic reality awakens our soul.

It is difficult to have a deeply personal relationship with an idea, and God can never be anything but. So we have Buddha, and the Hindu deities, Krishna, Shiva. We have Yahweh and Allah, all symbols for the great, creative organizing force of the universe. And we have Jesus: gentle child, born in a stable; mendicant, itinerant preacher and persecuted victim; Salvator Mundi. We can have a personal relationship with Jesus and it can serve to guide, to comfort, to instruct us throughout our lives.

In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna exhorts Arjuna to “Be aware of me always.” But how are we to do this? How can we be constantly aware of anything? Surely this is the rarely attainable quality of sainthood. Perhaps this is why we learn in meditation practice to concentrate on our breathing, since it is a constant activity we engage in without conscious recognition. Like our breathing, we who are not yet saints may practice the presence of God in an unconscious way. On the way to sainthood we may reach a place where our every action is prompted and guided by Grace; our awareness of Him, though it may be intermittent, will infuse our lives nevertheless.

Everything that exists in my mind, every idea that I have about life and how to live, is complicated. Every condition has an opposite. Just take pride, for example. Healthy self-love is an absolute necessity for health and growth, both physical and spiritual; but self-loving pride is egotistical, and can lead to negative thinking. Even helping others: should I help this guy out, or let him learn life’s lessons the hard way, and so be able to overcome? The one thing that is not complicated is love. Love has no opposite except not loving, and that isn’t the least bit complex. If my behavior is prompted by the spirit of Divine Love, my life is bound to be a success.

Community has power. Prayer in unison with others has an efficacy greater than the sum of the individual prayers. This is true no matter how large the group, from a pair to an entire church, hall or stadium. The spiritual energy combines to enliven each member of the community and to create a bond among the members as well as to blend the voices of the congregants into the universal, eternal sound, the music that is the I AM, becoming one voice of blessing.

Claiming to understand the Truth is like getting off the bus before you’ve reached your destination. I’ve done everything there is to do; paid the fare, adopted the correct posture, watched the view change. But when I’ve “arrived” I’m not where I’d intended to go. No, understanding the Truth is to remain in transit and to watch as the view changes throughout a lifetime. Or a series of lifetimes.

All things must pass. Acceptance of the transience and impermanence of “things” is a profound understanding of life, leading to positive, productive attitudes and behavior. All things must pass, except the goodness and truth I am able to add to this world by living and having lived. Things pass. Spirit abides.

Our daily spiritual routine will have such a dramatic and lasting positive effect on our attitude, on our outlook, and on our behavior that its beneficial impact is completely undeniable. And yet it may always seem a chore, a task we have to undertake, rather than some pleasant leisure activity. We may always refer to our daily visit with God as our spiritual “work.” This says something about human nature. It is not part of our instinctive drive to align ourselves with God, because of the energy and strength of our inborn ego, which continually stresses our rebellious independence. So it may help to conceive of ourselves as God’s children, and our visit with Him as time spent on God’s beautiful playground, having fun.