Martin
Luther King, Jr., in being asked to publish some of his sermons,
wrote in the preface to his book, “. . . a sermon is directed
toward the listening ear rather than the reading eye. . . I
offer these discourses in the hope that a message may come
to life for readers of the printed words.” This
is my hope for you, dear reader. - Rev Linda
April
23, 2006
THE
BLOOMIN’ YOU:
GOD IS OUR BUD’
First off I want to thank Barry Goldsmith for
the title of today’s
talk, God Is Our Bud.’ It sounds like something Barry would
say, doesn’t it? We are God in the bud, aren’t we?
That’s one thing about Religious Science, we don’t
mince words about the truth of who we are.
I’ve noticed my neighbors digging up the ground in their
yards, preparing to plant gardens here and there. Any gardeners
here?
Well, I like gardening, but my gardening seems to be focusing
on something of a different sort, spiritual gardening. And
I tell you, it’s a real “growing” experience.
When you
think about it, gardening is really awakening. The seeds awaken
within the soil, and that awakens the faith within
us.
We plant a seed and we KNOW that it will grow and produce
a flower or a vegetable or whatever it is we planted. We do
what
we can
to do our part, but we believe that it will grow just because
of what it is. And our faith grows stronger as we produce,
as we see those little plants coming up out of the ground,
as we
taste that first radish, or cut that first flower. Before
long we’re making whole salads, filling large vases, freezing
vegetables.
It’s the same with our spiritual garden. It’s awakening
the faith within us to open to the fullness of who we are. We
plant a seed, speak our word, and it manifests into form. We
do what we can to do our part, but we must believe that it will
come to fruition, because “it is done unto us as we believe.” And
our faith grows stronger as we practice, as we taste the fruits
of our labor, see the results, get the parking spots, we see
the changes in relationships, or we have the healings. Before
long we’re having more and more demonstrations.
And we start
remembering the divine sparks that we are—God
in the bud.
All we’re about here is learning who we are, and the way
we learn is through practice. We’re practicing
opening the buds we are. Every aspect of life is an opportunity
to see
God in us and practice that Presence.
Life is
a big grand piano. And I get to practice on it all I want to.
Like the Robin Williams movie, When Dreams
May
Come. I loved watching him practice his new-found abilities.
Well,
that’s how we are. We’ve made a really great discovery.
We’re free! We can choose whatever we want.
We’ve got a new bike. All we have to do is hop on and learn
to keep our balance. Remember learning to ride a bicycle? Anybody
here get a few skun knees? “Skun.” Now that’s
one of those Down East words, skun.
We’re in a spiritual garden, practicing opening
to our greatness.
We’re
buds in the garden of God.
We’re a variety of wild God-flowers, each one of us different.
And that’s why we when we talk about practicing
in our spiritual garden, we quickly come to realize
that how I practice
and how you practice may not be exactly the same.
What works for me may not work for you and vice-versa.
And so each of us
is left to discover for ourselves what it is
about us that is unique and, therefore, what
works for us.
We are all
so different in our Oneness. This can be a challenge. I would
say that I have spent
some
time
during
most of
my life trying to come up with THE perfect
spiritual practice for me.
And guess what. I haven’t got it yet. Because what I’ve
come to see is that it’s constantly evolving.
I love what
I read in a study guide in Science of Mind Magazine a few years
ago. Rev. Duchess
Dale
said, “I wake up. .
. and I know I am being called to do spiritual work. Even though
it usually feels like the last thing in the world I would want
to do, I get out of my warm and cozy bed and go into my study
for prayers, meditation or writing.”
Any of you
ever feel that way? We don’t always feel like
doing our spiritual gardening, do we? We don’t
always feel like God in the bud.
But what
we have to learn is to go beyond our feelings that don’t
serve us, to step through them with faith, and do what we need
to do. And it can leave us wondering if it was worth it. Sometimes
it feels like growing asparagus. It might take a long time before
you get much out of it. But once you have that patch going good,
it’s a wonderful thing.
Our founder Dr. Ernest Holmes said, “. . . we must remember
that very frequently it takes what we call time for events to
transpire, and therefore we should realize that the growth of
thought into experience may take time to mature. [We] who trust
in God will not make haste; [we] will not be confused; [we] will
contemplate the object of [our] desire and believe that [we have]
it whether [we see] it or not. [We] will know that always, by
the silent processes of the Law, the harvest is gradually taking
form.” (The Power of An Idea, p.
59.2)
It’s
especially wonderful to be in practice when disaster strikes.
Like hail storms. When Bill and I were living in Hudson,
Colorado, one summer, we had a beautiful
garden in our back yard. Bill was growing his vegetables, and
I was growing flowers. I
even overheard the farmer who lived
behind us tell his grandson one day as they drove by on his
tractor, what a beautiful garden
we had.
But late
in August, just when everything was big and lush, getting ready
to
pick, a hail
storm came
up at
around 9
o’clock
one night, and for about an hour pea-size hail shredded the farmer’s
corn field behind us, all the leaves
on every tree in the little town,
and everything in our beautiful garden.
Everything.
Except one
sunflower. One sunflower remained, beat up, but still standing,
its big
face refusing to
give up.
I’ll never
forget that sunflower. It reminds
me of Job in all his afflictions.
He lost everything he had, his
property, his home, his family,
even his friends forsook him. But
he remained faithful and prospered
again.
I don’t know about you, but I want to be like Job and that
sunflower. Because I know that things are going to come around
that I might not like. Things change. Nothing stays the same.
It can’t. It’s an impossibility. The paradox is that
God, the Changeless, must ever be changing. Life cannot stand
still. It is ever evolving.
And sometimes I don’t like what I see in that evolution.
Sometimes it’s hard for me to see God in it, and especially
in me. Sometimes my garden gets real overgrown with weeds that
don’t look much like
anything I meant to plant.
But there they are. Big as
day.
And if I’m out of practice, I can get pretty sore pulling
all those weeds, all that bending over, using muscles I haven’t
used for a while. Dr. Wayne Dyer in his book Real Magic says
we either get our enlightenment through suffering or some other
way. One way or the other, we’re
going to get it. So we may
as well enjoy the contrast.
So it’s important to grow our spiritual garden, to keep
practicing, to open up fully to the beautiful blooms we are.
We know we have to tend our physical bodies to keep them in good
condition. We know we have to exercise our minds to stay alert.
We know we have to give our emotions healthy outlets. And we
know, too, that to be a whole person, we must evolve spiritually.
If you could look at your
day as a spiritual garden
plot,
what would
it
look like?
For me it starts
out as a beautiful,
healthy
patch where I am consciously
aware of who I am. But
as the day wears
on, my
garden
starts
filling
with
weeds
and looking
a little
parched in places. Is that
how it is for you? Well,
it’s
a challenge. So one of
the things I am learning
to do is come back to the
garden to do a little work
and some weed pulling
later in the day.
Learn to
change negative thoughts to praise. Learn
to say to
yourself, “Okay, so I screwed up, but you know what, I
learned from that. And I praise myself for learning that lesson.
It brings me one step closer to knowing who I am, maybe by knowing
who I’m not. And
I praise and love myself
for that.
You are
the most beautiful
flower awakening in
your spiritual garden.
In closing
I’d like to share with you and excerpt from
CONVERSATIONS WITH
GOD: BOOK 3 by Neale Donald Walsch. In this portion, God speaks
first.
I want you
to know that I love you.
I have no
judgments about
you. I
look at
you and
see only
beauty and
wonder.
Like that primitive art.
Precisely. I hear your melody and I feel only excitement.
As with primitive music.
You are understanding now. I feel the energy
of your race as you would the energy of a man or woman of “primitive sensuality.” And,
like you, I am aroused. Now that is what is true about you and
Me. You do not disgust Me, you do not disturb Me, you do not
even disappoint Me.
You arouse
Me!
I am aroused
to new possibilities, to new experiences yet to come. In you
I am awakened to new adventures, and to the
excitement
of movement to new levels of magnificence.
Far from disappointing Me, you thrill Me! I am thrilled at
the wonder of you. You think you are at the pinnacle of human
development,
and I tell you, you are just beginning. You have only just
begun to experience your splendor!
You grandest ideas are as yet unexpressed, and your grandest
vision unlived.
But wait!
Look! Notice! The days of your blossoming are at hand. The
stalk has grown strong, and the petals are soon
to open.
And I tell you this: The beauty and the fragrance of your
flowering shall fill the land, and you shall yet have your
place in the
Garden of the Gods. (p. 273)