“Love your neighbor as yourself” doesn’t mean that I must learn to love myself before I can love others: it recognizes that, even if I despise or hate myself, I already do love myself.
Although what I am experiencing is only a superficial reflection of my own face, I perceive it as the face of God, the reflection of the divine within.
It took a very long time for me to recognize and begin to accept that the primary law of the spiritual life is simply this: “it’s not about me.”
If love flows through us, then we can’t possess it. And if love flows through us, then we can’t take credit for allowing it to do so.
If the goal of my spiritual life is transformation, spiritual attainment, or personal improvement, then any path I walk leads back to me — that is, nowhere. … Openness to sobering, even painful revelation is at the heart of silent Quaker worship: the turning of bare attention, without denial or rationalization, to whatever appears as I am searched by the light that was in Jesus. … By dispelling the delusion of self as center, the Christ-light eases my need for self-validation and spiritual success.
Vocal ministry about the relative unimportance of special spiritual experiences.
[FEATURED POST] Three posts on a Quaker’s reactions to the Easter story.
There is no salvation. There is nothing I can do, or anyone do for me, that can rescue me from being what I am: a human animal conditioned in every sense. No deliverance from guilt, pain, death. No act, belief, or experience that would make acceptable the unacceptable. No person, institution, concept, or intuition to hope in. Nothing to hold, seek, or look forward to.