Esther's Sea

Esther loved the sea. In her apartment were her father’s photographs of the sea. Rocks and clefts along the Atlantic coast, with names like Purgatory and Camel Rock, shaped her childhood consciousness. She once wrote:

“How I pity those who have never had the opportunity to fall in love with the sea. Even at its most peaceful moments there is movement and rhythm and a tremendous tranquility that can put at ease even the most disturbed frame of mind. But when it is at its wildest, whipped by winds of hurricane force, with waves and spray flying high above the cliffs and rocks, then the sea is its most thrilling self.”

Esther’s sea and Esther's life mirrored one another: tumultuous and powerful one moment, serene and gentle the next. As she was an enthusiast of the sea, so was she an enthusiast for life - from family and gardening to the reconciliation of peoples distanced by conflict. To be alive for her meant to engage life passionately, and to embrace it immodestly, whatever her circumstance. Even when she battled the ravages of cancer she did not give in to negativism. She had an untethered optimism and an abiding faith in life's possibilities.

The sea is a wise teacher. Esther was its discerning student. She came to know intuitively what the sea was eager to teach: that the web of life is seamless and complete and that divine reality encompasses all in a loving embrace.

(Photo from Widescreen Wallpapers)

Choose Life

“I call heaven and earth to witness this day: I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life -- if you and your offspring would live -- by loving the Lord your God, by heeding God’s commands, and by holding fast to God..."

from an ancient ony ceremof covenant renewal,

recorded in Deuteronomy 30: 19-20a

“Why do you seek the living among the dead?”

Jesus, as recorded in Luke 24:5b

“When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.”

Mary Oliver, from “When Death Comes”

Collected Poems

In the heart of every religion lies its distinguishing affirmation: the Shema in Judaism, the incarnation/resurrection in Christian teaching. Buddhism’s fourfold noble truth, the circle in Native American spirituality. Beneath these affirmations lies a deeper and more fundamental insight: to be human is to live constantly in the presence of choice. Choices are intellectual, ethical, relational. Our choices open us to deeper life, or rob us of vitality. They expand our minds and hearts, or constrict our spirits. Every wisdom tradition offers its own hard-won experience to guide our choices, but the choices remain uniquely ours to make.

Religion is obsessed with Life – life that is full, fecund and abundant, life that is alive and forever escapes definition. Judaism’s railing against idols is its way of distinguishing Life from all that imitates or diminishes it. Buddhists perceive the vitality within or beyond the illusions that clamor for our attention. “Let the dead bury the dead,” Jesus instructs, forcing upon us a reconsideration of our most elementary notions.

Our experience confirms that this world bears an ambivalent character. On the one hand it carries within it the “original blessing” of God’s creation; it is the chosen medium of divine life and self-expression. Only in this world do we know grace, loveliness and awe. Only in this world can we experience a love that casts out fear, and a hope greater than death itself. On the other hand, this world continually disappoints us. It produces tawdry substitutes for authentic life. It offers cheap grace when sacrifice is required. It presents idols of attractiveness that promise more than they deliver.

Spiritual discernment seeks to recognize Life in the midst of all that is false. Spiritual liberation begins when we serve Life with all our heart, soul, mind and strength.