It really is beautiful.
The window of our condo in downtown Tempe Arizona looks out over a large hill. In December, the top of the hill is adorned with a giant lit menorah representing Judaism. Beside it is a star being approached by three wise men representing Christianity. Down the street is a picturesque Islamic mosque. As I walked past recently, I heard a man beautifully chanting prayers.
Three faiths side by side. Coexisting. Celebrating the unique and welcome contributions of each. That’s the true spirit of Christmas. A spirit of Love.
I didn’t use to feel this way. For most of my life, I felt the Christian faith I was raised in was the only “right” way to live, the only way to please God, the only way to heaven. I don’t believe that anymore. I believe that God is far too big and wild and mysterious and loving to be boxed into any one perspective, any one faith. We all see different parts of Her / Him / Them.
Every worldview, faith, and perspective has something to offer, something I can learn from. None of us have a stranglehold on Truth. We all grasp parts of it. Many of us grasp the same parts but call them by different names, which ties us together in what theologians call the Wisdom Tradition (or the Perennial Tradition). These are core beliefs at the foundation of most faith traditions—there is a Divine power in the universe. A spark of that Divine lives in all of us. We can choose to connect with that Divine power. Making that choice benefits us and brings coherence to our lives.
I’m reminded of the classic story of three blind men asked to describe an elephant. One felt its side and declared an elephant to be like a rough wall. Another felt its tusk and said an elephant is like a smooth spear. The third felt its tail and insisted an elephant is like a flexible snake. Who was right? Alone, all of them and none of them. Together, they painted a more complete picture.
Whatever holidays you celebrate, do so with an open mind and an open heart. Recognize the similarities in those around you. Appreciate their differences. Focus on the Love that is the essence of true faith. Coexist. If you do, you’ll see your own worldview mature and expand, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.
It was a really dumb thing to do. In my defense, I was standing on a small wooden platform 30 feet up a tree. Given that I’m not a fan of heights, the logical part of my brain was not fully engaged. I was on a high ropes course, the kind that has zip lines, wire walks, and other obstacle course elements suspended far above the forest floor. It’s basically a torture device.
So I stood there with a thin wire running from a harness at my waist to an equally thin wire above my head. And I was supposed to step off the platform. I could’ve backed out, of course. But that would have meant a humiliating climb back down the 30 foot ladder in front of the group of students I was supposedly leading on this excursion. Not a very attractive alternative.
So it was with a sigh of relief that I stepped off the platform. And then the full weight of my 6’ 3” frame cranked the support line tight around my hand. My palm felt like it was pinned under a semi. Gasping in pain and realizing my stupidity, I wrenched my hand free. Dangling unceremoniously from a cable that could have easily held a small elephant, one clear thought penetrated the fog of pain and humiliation – I should have trusted the wire.
Have you ever tried to hedge your bets? Play both sides? Put one foot into a fluid situation while attempting to keep the other firmly on solid ground? How did that work out for you? Obviously there are times and situations where it pays to be cautious. But there are also times when we just have to choose to trust. To step out. To risk. To dive in. With a relationship. With a business venture. With an unexpected opportunity.
So how do you know the difference? How can you tell when to be appropriately cautious and when to take the risk? By asking yourself one simple question – is this worthy of my trust? For me on that ropes course, it was. I paid the price for not going all in.