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Tuesday, July 9, 2024

Learn to Love

 


We are admonished to seek after those things that are of good report and lovely.  There are dozens of sources from which I take my positivity and processing of life that just seems to hit me with challenges constantly.  Circle of Atonement is one of those communities.  Having minored in German with a professor who survived Aüswitz this post today really struck a nerve. While, of course, I can't believe that I can ever attain wholely well body in life just by my words, prayers, thoughts and actions this is very intriguing.  enjoy

SICKNESS HAS BECOME IMPOSSIBLE: THE AMAZING STORY OF “WILD BILL CODY”

There’s a well-known Course passage from Lesson 136 (“Sickness is a defense against the truth”) that says some stunning things about what will happen to our bodies if we really let this lesson all the way in:

Perhaps you do not realize that this removes the limits you had placed upon the body by the purposes you gave to it. As these are laid aside, the strength the body has will always be enough to serve all truly useful purposes. The body’s health is fully guaranteed, because it is not limited by time, by weather or fatigue, by food and drink, or any laws you made it serve before. You need do nothing now to make it well, for sickness has become impossible. (W-pI.136.18:1-4)

What this passage says sounds truly unbelievable (but is echoed elsewhere in the Course): If we lay aside the egoic purposes we’ve given the body and devote it only to the “truly useful purposes” of the Holy Spirit, “the body’s health is fully guaranteed.” It will no longer be subject to any of the sufferings and limitations that normally ravage it; it will be free of aging, heat and cold, hunger and thirst, and anything else that might limit it in any way. “You need do nothing now to make it well, for sickness has become impossible.”

This just sounds too extreme to be true, does it not? After all, even great saints like Francis and Mother Teresa and Ramana Maharshi suffered from physical ills, and surely they were at least using their bodies for the truly useful purposes of God much of the time. True, it may well be that these individuals still got sick because they weren’t fully free of egoic purposes, giving the ego a chance to sneak in and try to thwart their tremendous spiritual progress. But if that Course passage is right, surely there must be some examples of people who have demonstrated it in their lives. I’ve often been asked if I know of any such examples, and here, I’d like the share the story of a person who sure looks like one.

This story is from a wonderful book by George Ritchie called Return from Tomorrow. The book is mainly about an amazing near-death experience that happened to Ritchie, but it also relates other events of his life, both before and after the NDE. He served in the American military during World War II, and while his unit was helping to liberate a German concentration camp in 1945 (this was after the NDE), he met an amazing Polish man whom the American troops called “Wild Bill Cody.” This nickname was a mashing together of the names of two Wild West figures, “Wild Bill” Hickok and “Buffalo Bill” Cody, and they called him this because he had a long handlebar mustache similar to theirs, and his real name was “seven unpronounceable syllables in Polish.”

As you’ll see, “Wild Bill” was a truly unforgettable person, a miracle worker par excellence, and by all appearances a powerful example of what the Course passage above is talking about. Here is Ritchie’s account of him:

He was one of the inmates of the concentration camp, but obviously he had not been there long; his posture was erect, his eyes bright, his energy indefatigable. Since he was fluent in English, French, German and Russian, as well as Polish, he became a kind of unofficial camp translator.

We came to him with all sorts of problems; the paperwork alone was staggering in attempting to relocate people whose families, even whole hometowns, might have disappeared. But though Wild Bill worked fifteen and sixteen hours a day, he showed no signs of weariness. While the rest of us were drooping with fatigue, he seemed to gain strength. “We have time for this old fellow,” he would say. “He’s been waiting to see us all day.” His compassion for his fellow prisoners glowed on his face, and it was to this glow that I came when my own spirits were low.

So I was astonished to learn, when Wild Bill’s own papers came before us one day, that he had been in Wuppertal since 1939! For six years he had lived on the same starvation diet, slept in the same airless and disease-ridden barracks as everyone else, but without the least physical or mental deterioration.

Perhaps even more amazing, every group in the camp looked on him as a friend. He was the one to whom quarrels between inmates were brought for arbitration. Only after I had been at Wuppertal a number of weeks did I realize what a rarity this was in a compound where the different nationalities of prisoners hated each other almost as much as they did the Germans.

As for the Germans, feelings against them ran so high that in some of the camps liberated earlier, former prisoners had seized guns, run into the nearest village and simply shot the first Germans they saw. Part of our instructions were to prevent this kind of thing and again Wild Bill was our greatest asset, reasoning with the different groups, counseling forgiveness.

“It’s not easy for some of them to forgive,” I commented to him one day as we sat over mugs of tea in the proceeding center. “So many of them have lost members of their families.”

Wild Bill leaned back on the upright chair and sipped at his drink. “We lived in the Jewish section of Warsaw,” he began slowly, the first words I had heard him speak about himself. “My wife, our two daughters, and our three little boys. When the Germans reached our street they lined everyone against a wall and opened up with machine guns. I begged to be allowed to die with my family, but because I spoke German they put me in a work group.”

He paused, perhaps seeing again his wife and children. “I had to decide right then,” he continued, “whether to let myself hate the soldiers who had done this. It was an easy decision, really. I was a lawyer. In my practice I had seen too often what hate could do to people’s minds and bodies. Hate had just killed the six people who mattered most to me in the world. I decided then that I would spend the rest of my life, whether it was a few days or many years, loving every person I came in contact with.”

Loving every person…this was the power that had kept a man well in the face of every privation. (George Ritchie, Return from Tomorrow, 129-132)

What a story! Here was a man who endured things most of us can scarcely imagine. He lost his entire family, and then was subjected to the unspeakable hell of a concentration camp for six years. But as another concentration camp survivor, Viktor Frankl, famously said, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” This is what Wild Bill did: In the face of his circumstances, in which he could have so easily succumbed to anger and hatred, he chose instead an attitude of love. He made a firm commitment: “I would spend the rest of my life, whether it was a few days or many years, loving every person I came in contact with.” And we see that commitment lived out in a spectacular way in everything Ritchie saw him do at the camp.

And you may have noticed another element to this story, the element I’m highlighting in this piece: Throughout all of this, in a situation of extreme deprivation where we would normally expect someone to experience horrendous physical effects, Wild Bill’s body remained miraculously healthy. We see references to this sprinkled all through Ritchie’s account:

[It appeared that] he had not been there long; his posture was erect, his eyes bright, his energy indefatigable.

Though Wild Bill worked fifteen and sixteen hours a day, he showed no signs of weariness. While the rest of us were drooping with fatigue, he seemed to gain strength.

For six years he had lived on the same starvation diet, slept in the same airless and disease-ridden barracks as everyone else, but without the least physical or mental deterioration.

Loving every person…this was the power that had kept a man well in the face of every privation.

What can explain this? Ritchie offers his own explanation in the last sentence I’ve quoted above: “Loving every person…this was the power that had kept a man well in the face of every privation.” And this reminds me so much of that passage from Lesson 136. Here was a man who, in his decision to love everyone without exception, had apparently given up all the egoic purposes he had formerly ascribed to his body. He was devoting his body entirely to the “truly useful purposes” of loving and helping his brothers and sisters in need, even the Germans whose compatriots had killed his family. And as a result, it seems that what happened is exactly what that Course passage says: His body was no longer subject to the sufferings and limitations that normally beset us. His body’s health was fully guaranteed. Apparently, for him, sickness and suffering had become impossible.

Now, I think Wild Bill’s story would be astounding and inspiring even if he had experienced physical ills in the camp. The biggest takeaway for me is his shining example of forgiving love, not his miraculously healthy body. That being said, I am heartened when I see one of the Course’s most extreme teachings actually demonstrated in a human life. It increases my confidence in the Course, which I think even long-time students can really use. We may have read passages like this many times, but let’s face it, we still don’t truly believe them deep down, and we need all the concrete evidence we can get.

On top of that, I find myself uplifted by Wild Bill’s manifestation of a healed body as an instrument to extend miracles from his healed mind. Yes, the body isn’t the focus of the Course, but we are promised that our bodies will be healed as we devote them solely to healing our brothers, and to me this is a beautiful thing. How wonderful to think that one day, we all will reach a stage in our development where our minds are so completely devoted to love that our bodies will be a perfect reflection of that: healed instruments that extend healing of mind and body to everyone we encounter. Who wouldn’t want to be a living witnesses that sickness has now become impossible?

Thursday, July 4, 2024

Go Or Wait?

 John 10: 30-37

30 In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii[c] and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

36 “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

37 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”  Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

Sometimes in life we don't realize that we are in a moment of 'need'.  Perhaps not as dramatic as this story about the good Samaritan, or perhaps much more dramatic than this.  To me it's not about 'taking pity' on the man but rather a study on what one does, how one responds and how one proceeds.

The robbers undoubtedly were stronger than the man and certainly one man couldn't have defended himself  against a mob intent on harming him and taking his resources. It's worth noting that two previous people had passed the man in need.  We are told that the first one was a Priest and the second a Levite.  

Obviously a Priest is someone who holds authority, or as we would say in my church - the keys. Presumably a Priest would be very aware of the needs of others acting to ease suffering.  Charity should be at the forefront of a life centered in ministry.  In order to be a Priest one must have 'proven' himself worthy and to be authorized by others holding the keys to priesthood.  Today, in our modern world, we may be too focused on decorum rather than God's intents.

The second person who walked by was a Levite.  An expert in the law.  There is no doubt that the law of God requires us to treat one another with respect which may include providing for a need absent of a request because all of us should be more than willing to help others within our abilities.  

The man was likely on his way going about his normal affairs when robbers struck with no warning and changed the course of his life.  This event would have never been forgotten by the man as too would the ability of a stranger to see the need and do all within his power to meet the needs that were multifaceted.  The man needed attention to his wounds, he needed help getting to a safe place from which he could re-access and lay a foundation for the navigation toward a life that beforehand was unimaginable in it's unfolding before the intervening event, and he needed resources with which to 'pay' for all of this.

Yet how could he pay for it?  He had been robbed of his money and his clothing.  He was injured very badly and couldn't work to fund moving on with his life.  I imagine that the man also was in a state of mind and being that was in an abyss of shadows that disallowed the light to illuminate what needed to happen next, then after that, then after that and so on.

Would not the entire world be better off with Samaritans who help without being asked, who scan for opportunities to help others, and resolve difficulties as much as is within their power?  The paradox here is that if indeed we lived, loved and gave like the Samaritan there wouldn't be a need for the Samaritan.  A modern Christian song typifies this better than I ever could - "Can you Only Imagine?"

Perhaps the Priest and the Levite later learned of the Samaritan and somehow allowed it to shape their response being "the man in the ditch should have asked for help and the Samaritan overstepped and what gave him the right anyway?"