A Lotus Blooming in the Catholic Church
By Mike McMahon
This article was
written in 1999 for the Community of Mindful Living publication "The Mindfulness Bell".
It was wrtten to encourage western Buddhists who have left their
Christian (or Jewish, Native American, etc) faith to go back and explore the beauty of this heritage
and to find a way participate in it.
Several years ago, following my divorce, my daughter Annie and I moved into a rundown house in one of Omaha's older neighborhoods. I was broken- emotionally, financially and spiritually- and deeply depressed. The condition of the house seemed to match my own. Even so, like a wounded animal that crawls into a cave, I felt grateful for this basic shelter, which a friend was letting me stay in for just the cost of the utilities.
That first autumn in the house, as I tried to get Annie and me involved in the neighborhood, I struggled with my shame over my circumstances without having the resources to do much about it. As Christmas approached, I was moved by the images of Jesus, Mary and Joseph in the manger. The fact of their poverty, the beauty of their lives and of the image of the manger- all of this comforted me a great deal. I hadn't been involved in the Catholic Church since high school. For the previous 12 rears, I had been practicing Buddhism in the Soto Zen tradition. I had read a lot of Thich Nhat Hanh's books and was drawn to his way of practice. His statement, "go back to your spiritual tradition and find the jewels buried there", was compelling to me.
I am a songwriter. That Christmas a song poured out of me. I called it, "Jesus' Room". The first verse went like this:
"The cows were tromping everywhere in the middle of Jesus' room.
The sheep were shedding all their hair in the middle of Jesus' room.
The manger was in disrepair and Joseph full of gloom:
'This is the poorest place in town and this is Jesus' room.
'And Mary said, 'We don't have a silver bowl,a cup, a crib, a spoon
.But all we need is love to furnish Jesus' room.' "
It seemed that the seeds of my Christian faith were rising up from the depths of my being to nourish and support me.
Several years ago, following my divorce, my daughter Annie and I moved into a rundown house in one of Omaha's older neighborhoods. I was broken- emotionally, financially and spiritually- and deeply depressed. The condition of the house seemed to match my own. Even so, like a wounded animal that crawls into a cave, I felt grateful for this basic shelter, which a friend was letting me stay in for just the cost of the utilities.
That first autumn in the house, as I tried to get Annie and me involved in the neighborhood, I struggled with my shame over my circumstances without having the resources to do much about it. As Christmas approached, I was moved by the images of Jesus, Mary and Joseph in the manger. The fact of their poverty, the beauty of their lives and of the image of the manger- all of this comforted me a great deal. I hadn't been involved in the Catholic Church since high school. For the previous 12 rears, I had been practicing Buddhism in the Soto Zen tradition. I had read a lot of Thich Nhat Hanh's books and was drawn to his way of practice. His statement, "go back to your spiritual tradition and find the jewels buried there", was compelling to me.
I am a songwriter. That Christmas a song poured out of me. I called it, "Jesus' Room". The first verse went like this:
"The cows were tromping everywhere in the middle of Jesus' room.
The sheep were shedding all their hair in the middle of Jesus' room.
The manger was in disrepair and Joseph full of gloom:
'This is the poorest place in town and this is Jesus' room.
'And Mary said, 'We don't have a silver bowl,a cup, a crib, a spoon
.But all we need is love to furnish Jesus' room.' "
It seemed that the seeds of my Christian faith were rising up from the depths of my being to nourish and support me.
I played the song at a neighborhood Christmas party. Afterwards a neighbor asked me to sing the song at her church. It was Sacred Heart Catholic Church. I loved the mass at Sacred Heart- a joyful celebration featuring beautiful music by one of the best choirs in town, liturgical dance, and many other creative flourishes in the liturgy. We held hands and swayed as we sang a simple, lyrical version of
the "Our Father" written by the pastor, Fr. Jim Scholtz. The "sign of peace" lasted about 10 minutes as parishioners moved about the church, embraced, and enthusiastically wished one another peace. The experience called up a ferocious longing in me.
Annie and I have gone back every week since. That first year was interesting and challenging. Sometimes I would freeze up upon hearing some of the old articles of faith which no longer made sense to me: "Jesus is the only begotten Son of God", and wonder, "What am I doing here?" Other experiences were affirming and healing. Like the first time I heard Paul's letter to the Corinthians on love: "Love excuses everything, believes all things, endures all things. . . When I was a child I thought and reasoned like a child, but when I grew up I gave up childish things". . . Standing there next to Annie, trying to learn how to take care of myself, how to be a good father- these words moved me deeply. Or listening to an old standard from my grade school days, "Holy God We Praise Thy Name", being sung with a gospel feel by the choir- their faces beaming, I remember a deep joy and the thought, "this is my tribe- I've returned!"
Eventually I relaxed and allowed myself to be nourished by the "jewels" of Christianity without being tossed away by my disagreement with church doctrine. I've come to believe that the heart of the teachings, both Buddhist and Catholic, is learning to respond to life in a
loving way, cultivating a sense of intimacy with all existence- the rest is just architecture. I am guided by Thay's call for us to create a formless practice- one, which seeks to overcome cultural and conceptual barriers between people.
Since then I've become deeply involved in the Sacred Heart community life. I help teach CCD (like bible-study) classes to kids before
mass each week. I'm also involved in the program, which supports people who wish to join the church, and with writing and performing liturgical music. I have continued with my Buddhist practice, meditating, having mindful meals, and getting together with a sangha once a week to practice together. We have a unique tradition at Sacred Heart. Prior to the start of mass each week, a member of the congregation will share an opening prayer that they have created. I am one of the people who take turns providing this prayer. I often draw on a
combination of the Bible, and Thay's writings for my inspiration. The word, "mindful" appears often in my prayer, and I frequently pray for us to grow in our ability to live as a community.
Translating the principles of mindfulness into a language that my Christian sisters and brothers will want to hear is challenging and instructive for me. It helps me to see both Buddhism and Christianity in a new way. I read once that significant developments in human culture often occur as the result of the coming together of two seemingly incompatible streams of thought/experience. My efforts to marry my Buddhist and Christian heritages produces beautiful fruit for me, and I hope contributes to the well being of both my Christian and Buddhist communities.
Epilogue (this was not part of the original article)
After I had been practicing and worshipping for 5 years at Sacred Heart, the very liberal-minded pastor retired and was replaced by a more conservative one. Some of the innovative practices were, at the behest of the local archbishop, removed and replaced with more traditional versions : our beloved sung version of the "Our Father"; a version of the Catholic creed which originated with the Masai tribe in Africa and which was lovely, meaningful and moving when recited by black and white people in our little North Omaha Church.
the "Our Father" written by the pastor, Fr. Jim Scholtz. The "sign of peace" lasted about 10 minutes as parishioners moved about the church, embraced, and enthusiastically wished one another peace. The experience called up a ferocious longing in me.
Annie and I have gone back every week since. That first year was interesting and challenging. Sometimes I would freeze up upon hearing some of the old articles of faith which no longer made sense to me: "Jesus is the only begotten Son of God", and wonder, "What am I doing here?" Other experiences were affirming and healing. Like the first time I heard Paul's letter to the Corinthians on love: "Love excuses everything, believes all things, endures all things. . . When I was a child I thought and reasoned like a child, but when I grew up I gave up childish things". . . Standing there next to Annie, trying to learn how to take care of myself, how to be a good father- these words moved me deeply. Or listening to an old standard from my grade school days, "Holy God We Praise Thy Name", being sung with a gospel feel by the choir- their faces beaming, I remember a deep joy and the thought, "this is my tribe- I've returned!"
Eventually I relaxed and allowed myself to be nourished by the "jewels" of Christianity without being tossed away by my disagreement with church doctrine. I've come to believe that the heart of the teachings, both Buddhist and Catholic, is learning to respond to life in a
loving way, cultivating a sense of intimacy with all existence- the rest is just architecture. I am guided by Thay's call for us to create a formless practice- one, which seeks to overcome cultural and conceptual barriers between people.
Since then I've become deeply involved in the Sacred Heart community life. I help teach CCD (like bible-study) classes to kids before
mass each week. I'm also involved in the program, which supports people who wish to join the church, and with writing and performing liturgical music. I have continued with my Buddhist practice, meditating, having mindful meals, and getting together with a sangha once a week to practice together. We have a unique tradition at Sacred Heart. Prior to the start of mass each week, a member of the congregation will share an opening prayer that they have created. I am one of the people who take turns providing this prayer. I often draw on a
combination of the Bible, and Thay's writings for my inspiration. The word, "mindful" appears often in my prayer, and I frequently pray for us to grow in our ability to live as a community.
Translating the principles of mindfulness into a language that my Christian sisters and brothers will want to hear is challenging and instructive for me. It helps me to see both Buddhism and Christianity in a new way. I read once that significant developments in human culture often occur as the result of the coming together of two seemingly incompatible streams of thought/experience. My efforts to marry my Buddhist and Christian heritages produces beautiful fruit for me, and I hope contributes to the well being of both my Christian and Buddhist communities.
Epilogue (this was not part of the original article)
After I had been practicing and worshipping for 5 years at Sacred Heart, the very liberal-minded pastor retired and was replaced by a more conservative one. Some of the innovative practices were, at the behest of the local archbishop, removed and replaced with more traditional versions : our beloved sung version of the "Our Father"; a version of the Catholic creed which originated with the Masai tribe in Africa and which was lovely, meaningful and moving when recited by black and white people in our little North Omaha Church.
The new pastor was loving and kind, but spiritually more conservative than the previous pastor- the shape of the worship changed gradually. Some of the strong spiritual lay leaders in our community moved on. I found myself gradually feeling irritated at Mass by homilies, music, worship which did not coincide with my experience of life. After 10 years of worship at Sacred Heart, 5 with the new pastor, I took a break. It wound up being a permanent seperation. I went to Mass at a few other Catholic Churches hoping to find a new community. I remember crying at one of these services, feeling that I would not be able to open my heart and invest myself in a Catholic Church community again. I felt that these communities were too subject to control by forces which felt they had THE TRUTH to allow the kind of liturgy and spiritual exploration- a dynamic, living spirituality- that I could contribute to, that could sustain me.
In addition to my ongoing Buddhist practice, I continue to be deeply involved in Catholic spirituality. I work as a chaplain in a Catholic hospital, and am part of 2 small prayer groups which nourish and support me. In these small groups we can express the deepest concerns of our hearts, and share what we've learned in our communion with life, whether the view coincides with official Catholic teachings or not.
In addition to my ongoing Buddhist practice, I continue to be deeply involved in Catholic spirituality. I work as a chaplain in a Catholic hospital, and am part of 2 small prayer groups which nourish and support me. In these small groups we can express the deepest concerns of our hearts, and share what we've learned in our communion with life, whether the view coincides with official Catholic teachings or not.