Whom I Call Lord

http://hanumandassblog.com/ramcharitmanas-69-how-can-a-human-be-god/

Whom I call Lord, is gracious, merciful, compassionate –
demanding of me but this, imbuing me with the same:
toward myself, toward others, toward all.

Whom I call Lord calls none by the name infidel, nor unbeliever, nor apostate –
only: My child. Demands no shunning nor enmity toward anyone, nor murder.
Rewards simplicity and love with more love, and inspiration to serve and to remember.

Whom I call Lord moves me to take a position or to leave it, but consciously;
and if it is an unpopular position which calls for confrontation, to take it and trust;
to follow my heart's prompting in movement or repose, even should it merit conflict.

Whom I call Lord will preserve my sincerity, restore my dignity, increase my faith,
and make me fearless, provided I hold and cherish these in my heart, on every breath.
Assures me of sovereignty over myself, and over none other.

Whom I call Lord is enormous beyond measure, fabulous beyond words,
wondrous in beauty and in wisdom, Source of my existence, my ever-present destiny;
subtle as my kitty's whisker or a baby's cooing whisper.

Woman Rising

A male ultra-orthodox Jew would tell me:  that if a woman so much as touches him he has to do ablutions again or he can't perform his prayers, or lay hand on a Torah or a Talmud.

A male orthodox Muslim would likewise tell me:  that if he so much as touched a woman he also has to repeat the ablutions before he can orient himself toward Mecca and perform his prayers, or even lay hand on a Qur'an.

I would reply to both:  that if I've touched a woman I no longer need ablutions, and if a woman has touched me I can skip the prayers altogether.

The common root for the Arabic "compassionate" and "merciful" is the word WOMB, and it is no accident or coincidence that the cleft in the big cubic Ka'aba holding the sacred black stone for so many centuries, still kissed by throngs of worshippers, strongly resembles a YONI.

The orthodox male is terrified not merely of the power of a woman or of her sexuality - he is terrified of her divinity.  Terrified enough to regard her as "weaker," as second order, and as the sexual trap reflecting his own underdeveloped, unevolved ego - so that she remains for him "sexual" in order that he can "master" that in her.  (She becomes for him:  master-bait.)  So he cloisters her or throws a burka over her, beats or brutalizes or humiliates her, owns her or pimps her, or keeps her barefoot and pregnant, or shoots her or pours acid on her, or marries her off to the nearest cousin.  Anything but see a partner in her - and why?  Because he is "God" - and naturally "God hath no partners"...

The relegating of woman to second or third class citizen in the Name of God will wind up in the dustbin of history, and we will even see women standing in the Catholic pulpits as they once had done among the very earliest Christians - this or the Vatican will crumble once and for all.

The Aquarian Age has arrived.

Was für eine Religion...? / What Kind of Religion...?

(spontan gedichtet, abends während ambulanten spätdienst, nauenerplatz, auf dem 247er bus wartend:)

Was für eine Religion...?

Was für eine Religion ist das denn,

was dir keine Freude verleiht,

damit die Welt deine lächelnde Stirn immer sehen dürfte,

dein vor Menschenliebe strahlendes Herz?

Was für ein Glaube bringt dir keinen Singen bei,

anstatt Brüllen oder verengte Mistrauen in deinem Blick,

                                                   und Nächstenverachtung?

Klar, hat jeder Kummer, wer nicht -

aber mal ehrlich:  hat keiner dir erzählt,

daß Gott Barmherzig heißt, und Gnädig?

...daß er wohl näher zu dir sei als deine Halsschlagader,

                                           näher doch als deine Atmung?

...oder, daß in ihm wir leben, uns bewegen, und unser Dasein haben?

...vielleicht mal, daß er in dir wohnt, zwar als du?

Und ist das denn keine Ursache für Freude?

What Sort of Religion...?

(composed on the spot in German one evening while making my rounds
on foot as a visiting nurse, in a heavily Turkish, working class district
where I also live - and where one finds, the more "traditional" ... 
the longer the face)

What sort of religion is that then,

that lends you no joy

wherewith the world may see your smiling forehead,

your heart radiating love for Humankind?

What sort of faith teaches you no singing

instead of shouting or that tight-assed mistrust in your glance,

and contempt toward the "other"?

Sure, everybody has woes, who doesn't -

but honestly now:  has no one ever told you

that God's name is compassionate and merciful?

. . . that He is indeed nearer to you than your jugular vein,

nearer indeed than your breath?

. . . or that in Him we live and move and have our Being?

. . . perhaps even once, that He dwells within you, actually as you ?

And is that then no cause for joy?

S. Inayat-Chisti, Berlin, 14 Dec. 2005

Cornerstone of Your Faith

Gratitude gives latitude when attitude allows you

                                                                 to nurture Space -

Taking this deeply to Heart, you let it impart
                                                           life-bestowing Grace.

There is a well, easy to stand in, I have been there;

its waters are deep, they carry an atmosphere
                                                          like no other.

It is the Heart-Source of the Prophet, he told me so,

that late-summer night in a field west of al-Quds:

SING! Bismillah ir-rahman ir-rahim!

SING! In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Beloved!

This is the very Cornerstone of Qur'an!

This, he said, "the Balm for the Arab masses," the antidote

to every vain pride, to all bigotry, to male aggression -

ir-rahman ir-rahim, compassionate, merciful -

whose shared root means Womb:
                                     that should tell us something.

If you don't yet know "In the Name of God,
                                     the Compassionate, the Merciful" -

to which you pay cynical lip-service
                                                       and reject its Guidance -

then you are not yet ready for "Allahu-akbar,"
                                                                God is Most Great -

which you use as a bludgeon out of primitive motives

rather than a sword to cut through your ignorance.

You reject the Balm vouchsafed from the
                                                            Prophet's own breast,

embracing instead that Bomb strapped to your own chest,

as you enter the crowd in the marketplace.

BREATHE "In the Name of God,
   Most Gracious, Most Merciful," with every step you take!

WALK "Bismillah ir-rahman ir-rahim,"
                                                  with every breath you draw!

Let it fill your atmosphere - give,
                                              abandon yourself to it utterly -

after all, God knows, it is your own true nature.

Let it carry you beyond hope and fear into certainty

                                             as no ideology can ever impart;

let it deliver you of your devisive judgemental loathing,
arrogant piety, with a Lovingkindness which opens
all doors and quietly overwhelms the world before you!

I see you on the street, self-isolated in your narrow-minded
     macho pride, your cherished anger worn on your sleeve -

                           "in the Name of God," you say,
               "the Compassionate, the Merciful" - as you butcher
     your own sister for wanting to determine her own life!
or you shoot her in the face, abetted by the family,
to uphold an "honor" which the Prophet
                                                       would find truly puzzling!

A twisted blasphemy this,
                       using the Cornerstone of the Faith to justify
                     political and every other self-serving agenda!

Behold:  when a wicked tribe rejected
   the Prophet's Message, scorned him and drove him out,
                                              scattering thorns in his path,

he recited only "Bism'illah ir-rahman ir-rahim"
                                                   with each prick and insult -

now it is you who scatter the thorns before the Prophet

by rejecting the Compassionate, the Merciful in favor
of cloying self-pity, of internecine blood-letting,
               and of ideological tyranny.

Whenever Religion becomes the property of bigotry,

whenever Faith is measured in fanatical scorn -

there is the Muslim Islam's own worst enemy,

there are the prophets stoned in the square.

SAY:  In the Name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful,
           and mean it, learn to be grateful for your existence!

SING:  Bism'illah ir-rahman ir-rahim, and behold the simple
          everyday glory of God's own deft Hand
       working through you, blessing and cherishing you,
               and the ground you walk on!

You want honor?  Then always honor the One Self in all.

You want influence?  Good, then don't ever
                                    take your next breath for granted.

Remembering God for His own sake
           relieves you of poverty-mind:  always let
   the majesty and dignity of your Noble Lord and Cherisher
 overwhelm you, and join it - acknowledging, after all,

                                         that He dwells within you as you.

Go now, and make yourself a fragrant gift to the world,

a reflection of Paradise Here and Now, and in Reality.

- S. Inayat-Chisti, Berlin, Nov. 2005