A day or two after my new granddaughter was born, I was driving to see the kids when suddenly I was washed through with what I can only describe as "the bigness of good." Like goodness was everywhere, in everything, a force so strong it is all-pervasive and indestructible. I looked at people around me, driving their cars, all of us moving in harmony—even on I465!—goodness evident in all our lives. Safety, progress, peace.
Although I knew I was feeling relieved—relieved that Louise was here and mom and baby were healthy and fine—this feeling of good was so much more than that. It was like I caught some kind of glimpse that all of life is good and that the worries and problems and troubles we fixate on are just tiny things that shrink to nothing in the presence of all all-encompassing, all-present Love.
It occurred to me that until that moment, I'd been making a fundamental mistake about life, thinking that goodness is a rare commodity and we're fortunate when we experience it; that life is fragile, tenuous, and that we need to take great care to do everything right—and in the correct order—to make sure that things will turn out in a good way. I saw how hard I sometimes work to keep worries and fears at bay; to do the right thing, do the work, say the prayers, taking extra care to week out anything that might leave us open to some vulnerability that could cause everything to come crashing down. Suddenly, in a moment, I saw I'd been thinking of goodness as a risk and a gamble, when in fact it was a full-on celebration of joy with unstoppable energy, undaunted growth, and overflowing abundance. We might occasionally celebrate the arrival of something good in our lives but miss the literal ocean of limitless good each day in which we live and move and have our being.
Rumi, the 14th century Persian poet, wrote:
I have a thirsty fish in me
that can never find enough
of what it's thirsty for!
Show me the way to the ocean!
Break these half-measures,
these small containers.
I think Rumi is pointing to the idea is that the life is so unthinkably good—as we live and move and have our being in a continual state of grace-- that we rarely see it for what it is. We overlook this ocean of light we're swimming in and instead notice all the opposites; inhumanity and meanness, threats and stories that make us fear that the world is a scary and threatening place.
But what I understood in that moment was that goodness is infinitely bigger than any small fear or darkness that shows up as a shadow on the wall. The force of good is a big good, an energy of Life far beyond anything our individual minds can grasp. Because of our built-in negativity bias (the tendency to over-focus on what's wrong rather than noticing what's right) and our hard-wired fight-or-flight impulse, we are so busy reacting to perceived threats in the world that we may rarely have the peace of mind to see the good.
When we look for the good on purpose, though, we'll see lots of it. A little investigation reveals an uncountable, limitless amount of good. It's like each small thing we feel thankful for is a thread we can begin to pull, and as we do, we see all the additional good things connected with it. For example, think about what's happened already this morning. The sun came up. We were safe, awake, and looking forward. We had food to eat for breakfast. What did you have? Maybe some cereal or fruit? Think of all the tiny goods involved in that. Someone perhaps millennia ago learned how to plant and cultivate oats or cantaloupe or blueberries. The seeds sprouted and grew; the food flourished. A farmer somewhere was inspired to grow the crop that produced the food for our breakfast. Perhaps that farm was in her family for generations. And somehow—probably with considerable of work and care—that particular melon, or those blueberries, or oats withstood diseases and insects and workers helped harvest the crop and bring it to market. Distributors joined in and those in transportation shipped the food from its growing place to our local store. All without being cracked or split or falling off the truck! So much good. And think of every worker who helped along the way, and every family that was fed and cared for by the pay for the work that employee did. So much tiny and mostly unseen good! So many people blessed! So many caring hands, kind hearts, people with vision and intent, each an important link in the sharing of good from one life to another. All of this—and more—happened simply in bringing your breakfast to our tables. How much limitless good has fanned out from there every minute since?
So how can we begin to recognize the ocean of grace we're swimming in? It is possible to live with a bigger sense of the goodness God is pouring our way. The psalmist gives us some good suggestions. In the first verses of the first psalm, he writes,
Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—
whatever they do prospers.
These verses begin the book of Psalms by reminding us that our choices matter and shape the experience—of blessing or curse—we experience in our world. The first suggestion is that we don't go along with a crowd that acts wickedly, that encourages bad behavior, or that demeans and mocks what's right and good in the world. If we want to keep our minds on what's true and real—the ocean of goodness in which we swim—we need to steer clear of those who ridicule or attempt to tear down what's beautiful and gentle and kind.
The psalmist goes on to say that when we're living in touch with the good, our delight is in God and we see God's law at work around us as people show respect and caring to each other, as traffic flows in harmony, as families have what they need, illnesses heal, problems get solved. The person in touch with God's good, "is like a tree planted by streams of water," yielding fruit, staying lush and beautiful, blossoming in all that they do.
Such a lovely promise! This for me is consistent with the idea that goodness, when it comes from God, is always abundant, overflowing, growing, and spreading. It moves from one life to the next, blessing all in its wake. That goodness is meant to be shared and will overflow any boundaries you try to give it. That's what God's goodness has to do. It has to extend. Look at any plant in your garden, how it grows through the season, widening and spreading itself as it grows. The principle of its life is in tune with the very principle of the goodness of life. The flourishing must happen.
But wait a minute, you might say, what if there's a drought? Everything gets brown and dries up—where is that extending principle of big good then? That's an important question and one we struggle with daily. How can we believe and trust in that Big Good when so many things in our lives don't go as we'd hoped? When calamity comes, or storms intrude, or heartache, illness, setbacks, upset is our companion for a time, how do we keep hoping that good is on in the way in, in fact, is already here? In our New Testament reading, we have a passage from 1 Peter.
He is writing to the community of new Christians in Asia Minor, where the Roman people viewed them with much suspicion and distrust. In the passage we heard this morning, Peter hopes to encourage them to live faithful, wise lives as examples for those who are watching:
…in the same way, you who are younger, submit yourselves to your elders. All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because,
'God opposes the proud
but shows favor to the humble.'
Humble yourself, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you."
It sounds as though Peter starts out with a similar admonition the psalmist offered; be careful who you hang out with, who you listen to, whose ideas you follow. If we're spending time with people who bring out the worst in us, it's time to pull back and look God's way. What words of wisdom would goodness speak into our lives? Do we have a healthy sense of humility, a heart that is willingness to be lead and taught? Do we remember that we aren't the center of the universe? How comfortable are we with that idea?
When we have the humility to watch for God's goodness to appear in our lives, our hearts soften and our trust grows. When we are having trouble finding the good in our lives, we remember God and God's love for us. We're more willing to lift up the things we don't have answers for--like worries about drought and concerns about friends and family—and trust that God's larger force of good will bring the answers we need. Peter tells us this plainly: Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
George Fox was going through a time of struggle when God showed him this in a great vision. He wrote in his Journal in 1647:
I was under great temptations sometimes, and my inward sufferings were heavy; but I could find none to open my condition to but the Lord alone, unto whom I cried night and day. And I went back into Nottinghamshire, and there the Lord shewed me that the natures of those things which were hurtful without, were within in the hearts and minds of wicked men… And I cried to the Lord, saying, 'Why should I be thus, seeing I was never addicted to commit those evils?' And the Lord answered that it was needful I should have a sense of all conditions, how else should I speak to all conditions; and in this I saw the infinite love of God. I saw also that there was an ocean of darkness and death, but an infinite ocean of light and love, which flowed over the ocean of darkness. And in that also I saw the infinite love of God; and I had great openings.
And I think this passage gives us a big part of the secret to the way God's good gets extended, from life to life to life. The tiny goods grow large when they fit together. And how do they fit together? We are each inspired to do our part. In this passage George Fox says that he asked God why he had to see all those terrible things people were doing when he never wanted to do any of them himself. God's answer was that he needed to understand it all so that he could carry God's light into those dark places and help people understand a better way. In that, he said, he saw the infinite love of God.
In looking plainly at the world of the wicked, sinful, and mockers (that's how the psalmist characterized them) and not getting swept up in it, Fox was able to carry God's good into precisely the places that needed it. And then, heart by heart, people got inspired. The good ideas Fox shared sparked hope and possibility and a sense of rightness and clarity in people, and more and more came to hear what he had to say.
In the same way, when we give our anxieties to God, trusting that God cares for us, and we can hold on to our belief in and trust in the Big Good of life—even in the fact of calamity and uncertainty—we are truly acting as part of the ocean of light and love Fox saw flowing over the ocean of darkness. The question isn't if if will happen; the question is when. As we all do our best to focus on the big good around us—refusing to be swayed by the naysayers of the world—we literally and tangibly are helping to create a world of goodness for everyone. That's kingdom of God stuff right there.
If we're doubtful that our choice to claim and hold on to the good in our lives makes that much of a difference in a world seemingly full of darkness, consider what Scottish Quaker Robert Barclay wrote in the mid-1600s:
"When I came into the silent assemblies of God's people I found the evil in me weakening and the good raised up."
This is how the light of goodness works in each of our hearts, to inspire us toward more loving and caring actions. The hold of what we might consider evil—anything that blocks God's love in us—lessens. We care about the group. We work together to do good things. We talk about service, kindness, respect, cooperation. We let go of grievances. We look always toward the next big good thing God is doing—for us, as a Quaker meeting, for us, as beloved children of God, and for us, as a worldwide family of light-filled souls.
God placed us in an ocean of endless good, and if we'll open our hearts and minds to it, we'll see the darkness lessening, and the Light lifted up.
In closing, a new poem (written just three days ago!) from Danna Faulds:
If I am plugged into the love field,
and the love field is connected
to the divine, and the divine is
one with everything in the
visible and invisible realms,
it follows that I am never
separate from anything at
any time. That is a remarkable
truth worth shouting from the
rooftops or at least holding
inside my heart like a sacred
flame that I choose to shelter
from the downpours of doubt
and cynicism the world
would rain upon it.
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