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Home | Gallery | Services | Diane Berke, A Taste of Heaven

A Taste of Heaven is copyright © 1999 by Interfaith Fellowship, New York, NY, and is reprinted at SpiritSite.com by permission. All rights reserved. Preached by Rev. Diane Berke, May, 1999.
 


"Generosity is such a powerful spiritual practice because it is characterized by the inner quality of relinquishment, or letting go."

 

 

 

 

Rev. Diane Berke is a Senior Minister and Co-Founder of Interfaith Fellowship, an interfaith church in New York.  

Interfaith Fellowship is located in CAMI Hall, across from Carnegie Hall at 165 West 57th St., New York, NY. You can visit their web site at www.interfaith fellowship.org.

Rev. Diane Berke, A Taste of Heaven

There once was a little boy who wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of root beer and he started on his journey.

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an old woman. She was sitting in the park just staring at some pigeons. The boy sat down next to her and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the old lady looked hungry, so he offered her a Twinkie. She gratefully accepted it and smiled at him. Her smile was so pretty that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered her a root beer. Once again she smiled at him. The boy was delighted!

They sat there all afternoon, eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

As it began to grow dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave. He turned around, ran back to the old woman, and gave her a hug. She gave him her biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you so happy?"

He replied, "I had lunch with God. You know what? She's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home. Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and he asked, "Mother, what did you do today that made you so happy?"

She replied, "I ate Twinkies in the park with God. You know, he's much younger than I expected."

·

We began last time to explore the nature and practice of generosity and giving, a practice which is fundamental to a true spiritual life. Generosity is such a powerful spiritual practice because it is characterized by the inner quality of relinquishment, or letting go.

The whole of spiritual growth and healing is the gradual relinquishment of our ego-based attachments, identifications, and thinking, and the practice of generosity activates and supports this process. As we let go of ego, we let go into the limitless love of our spiritual nature, where we experience freedom, joy, the unity of life, true abundance and profound peace.

We saw that the ego thought system is based on what the Course calls "the scarcity principle" - the belief that, having separated from God, we are incomplete. We see ourselves as lacking something essential to our safety, happiness, and well-being that we must try to get from outside ourselves. The orientation of our minds toward "getting" - toward grasping, acquiring, accumulating, clinging and hoarding - both expresses and reinforces the scarcity principle within our consciousness.

The practice of generosity, on the other hand, reorients the mind - from getting to giving, from lack to fullness, from scarcity to abundance. The nature of thought is to increase. When we operate in our lives from the thought, or fear, of scarcity, our inner experience of lack and scarcity grows. This occurs even if we have plenty by the world's standards. By the same principle, when we give expression to the thought and awareness of inner abundance, our experience of abundance and richness increases - even if we have little in the eyes of the world.

Buddhist meditation teacher Jack Kornfield writes that compassionate generosity is the foundation of true spiritual life, that it opens us to the experience of freedom. Yet for most of us, caught up as we are in our ego attachments and identities, a full-hearted and wholesome generosity is a quality and practice we need to develop and cultivate. Let's look at some ways we can gently do that in our lives.

Seven Suggestions for Cultivating Generosity

1. Notice the opportunities to give in your daily life, and bring greater awareness and intention to the ways you already give.

Most of us already give many, many times a day. We water the plants. We feed and play with the dog and cat. We say good morning to our boss. We answer a coworker's question about how to do something on the computer.

We hold a door open for someone. We drive the kids to their music lessons, pick them up from football practice, or help them with their homework. We make dinner for our family. We pass the salt at the dinner table. We do the laundry and ironing. We talk on the phone to a friend who's been having a tough time.

We give to others and ourselves in a hundred other small or large ways nearly every day. We can do these things on automatic pilot. We can do them with irritation, resentment, and a sense of burden. Or we can do them with the spirit and awareness of giving. Each of these simple, mundane activities can be a vehicle for expressing love, for genuine generosity and giving, if we bring that purpose and consciousness to them.

You will notice a change in your experience of these activities when you start to think of them as ways to practice generosity, when you consciously use them as opportunities to share and express love. Your everyday life will start to feel more meaningful and measurably richer.

2. Become sensitive to the urge or impulse to give whenever it arises within you.

A desire or impulse to give may arise in us in many different ways. We might feel the urge to give change to a homeless person on the street. We might feel an inner prompting to volunteer our time and talent to a particular project or organization, or to send a financial contribution to a worthy cause. We might decide to clean out our closets and donate the clothing we no longer wear to a shelter or a charity thrift shop.

We might have the thought to call a friend we've not spoken to in a while, just to say hello and see how they are. We might feel an impulse to offer a word of encouragement to a colleague at work, or to write a note of appreciation and gratitude to someone.

We might feel the urge to buy a particular gift for a friend for no special occasion or reason, or to give them something of ours that they've admired. Or we might walk past a parking meter that's expired and have an impulse to put a quarter or two into it.

As you begin to pay closer attention to the urge to give when it arises in you, you can also begin to become more aware of the intention behind that urge. Is the impulse to give an expression of love? Is it born of a recognition and celebration of connection? Is it coming from a sense of obligation, guilt, or concern about appearances? Are we trying to impress or indebt someone through our giving?

The intention behind our giving will very much color the experience of giving for us, and very often for the one receiving what we give as well. And so it is very helpful for us to notice, gently and without self-judgment, what our intention is when the urge to give arises.

Frequently the impulse to give is followed immediately by a whole barrage of thoughts about why we cannot or should not follow through on that impulse. "I can't afford it." "My contribution won't make any real difference." "They won't appreciate it anyway." "It's too much trouble." "What if they start pressuring me to give more?" "He'll probably just use the money to buy liquor or drugs." "I don't have the time." The thoughts and reasons not to give can go on and on.

If we are to cultivate the quality of generosity in our lives, it is important that we look clearly and honestly at the resistances that come up in us around the urge to give - the judgments, doubts, fears, even feelings of embarrassment or self-consciousness we have around giving. Looking at these resistances, without judging ourselves for them, opens us to the possibility of greater freedom.

There is no need for us to "barrel through" our resistances and discomfort around giving. To do that would not be very generous or kindhearted toward ourselves. But neither do we have to be enslaved and run by our doubts and fears. Bringing them into the light of awareness allows us to evaluate them more clearly, and then choose what we want to do.

3. Follow through on the impulse to give when it arises.

If you can gently move through your resistance, and if doing so would not harm you or someone else, see if you can follow through on the inner promptings to give that arise in you. Notice what happens when you do, especially within you, in your inner experience.

It can be an interesting practice to decide that for a certain period of time - a day, a week, perhaps longer - you will follow through whenever the urge to give something arises within you. Again, what you feel moved to give may be material or non-material. Some of the urges to give may be easy to follow through on. With others you may need to move through some resistance. But try to follow through in some way on all of them, and pay attention to the results, both inwardly and outwardly, in your life.

Several years ago I decided to work with this practice. A few days after making that decision, I was with my dear friend Mark, who had been quite ill for the last six months. He was sharing with me that what means the most to him in life at that point was the time he could spend with the people he loved and who loved him.

Mark's birthday was approaching, and I felt the sudden urge to ask him if he would like a birthday party. His face lit up and he answered, just a little shyly, that that would be wonderful.

Although I had a lot of extra demands on my time coming up in the next month, I thought of my decision to follow through on every impulse to give that arose within me. I took a deep breath and said, "Well, I would like to give you a birthday party."

I shared the idea with my husband Tony, who is one of the most generous people I know. He enthusiastically agreed, and within two weeks we put together a sit-down dinner party for Mark and sixteen of his closest friends and family.

Mark's parents were already in New York, having come to take care of him a few months earlier. His brother flew in from the Midwest the night before the party to surprise him. The entire experience was one of tremendous joy and love for me and, I think, for everyone who was there. We were all so grateful to be together, to celebrate the love and caring that we shared with and for Mark.

I had asked everyone, in lieu of gifts, to write something that expressed to Mark what his friendship and love had meant to our lives. At the end of the evening he told us that he would like to be around for lots more birthdays, but that if he were not, he wanted us to know that he was at peace with his life and with the knowledge that he loved us all deeply and was deeply loved in return.

The evening was not only our gift to Mark, but his to us as well. It was the last birthday we had together. Six weeks later Mark died. I will be forever grateful that I followed through on the impulse to give him that birthday, and in that way gave all of us the chance to express our caring and love.

4. Learn to receive graciously.

Giving and receiving are complementary aspects of a single movement, a single process, like breathing out and breathing in. Receiving is the other half of giving, and thus is also an expression of our basic interconnectedness.

Many of us seem to find it easier to give than to receive. We may respond to others' efforts to give to us with feelings of embarrassment or unworthiness. We may fear that what is given to us has strings attached, and react with feelings of suspiciousness or obligation.

One of the most challenging aspects of aging or illness for many people is having to learn to be on the receiving end of others' giving and help. Being in such a position shatters our comfortable illusions of independence.

While this can be initially painful and frightening, it can also awaken us to the deeper reality that we are not independent but rather interdependent - and to the joyful recognition that in opening ourselves to receive, we gift others with the blessing of being able to give. The more graciously and wholeheartedly we receive a gift, the more joy we offer to the giver of the gift.

You can learn to receive graciously. When someone pays you a compliment, say thank you, breathe, and let it in. If someone offers to help you with something, say yes, even if you don't "need" the help. Enjoy the feeling of sunlight on your skin. Take the time to savor the taste of your food. Let the beauty of the natural world speak to you of how much you are loved and gifted. Practice receiving.

We can consciously and purposely open ourselves to being replenished and renewed, knowing that as we allow ourselves to receive we simply have more to share and to give.

5. Include yourself in your own generosity and love.

In her beautiful book Loving- Kindness, Sharon Salzberg points out that "Generosity is not just interpersonal; it is also an inward state, a generosity of the spirit that extends to ourselves as well as to others." If we are to cultivate fully our practice of generosity and learn to give as God gives, we need to include ourselves in our own caring and love.

Jack Kornfield shares the following story of how he came to appreciate this important aspect of developing our generosity:

In my first few years of leading retreats, I would find myself periodically overwhelmed. After three or four retreats in a row, with hundreds of individual interviews, I would gradually become drained, irritable with students and colleagues. At its worst there were days I felt burnt out and did not want to hear another student's problems.

During this period, I had the chance to see His Holiness Dujom Rinpoche for advice and instruction on my practice. I told him about this difficulty. Because he was a renowned tantric master, I hoped he would offer me a special visualization and mantra whereby I could surround myself with light, recite sacred phrases, and be untouched by the intensity and path of seeing too many students and dealing with their problems. He asked for many details about how I practiced and taught, and then said, 'Yes, I can help you.' I waited for his higher tantric teaching, but then he said, 'I recommend you teach shorter retreats and take longer vacations.' This, I guess, is the higher teaching.

- Jack Kornfield, A Path with Heart

The Buddha once said that we could search the entire world to find someone more worthy of our affection and love than we ourselves are and we would never find such a person. Yet rather than being generous with acceptance, love, and compassion toward ourselves, we are often stingy and withholding. We tend to treat ourselves with such harshness and impatience, judging ourselves mercilessly for our difficulties, limitations, shortcomings, and failures.

There is a teaching in Zen that the spiritual path is simply "one mistake after another." The heart of spiritual discipline and practice is the willingness always to let ourselves begin again - and again and again and again.

We can extend that kind of compassion and acceptance toward ourselves. We can include ourselves in our own generosity and loving care.

6. Cultivate gratitude. Become more aware of the ways in which you are the recipient of the generosity and giving of others and of life itself.

In cultivating generosity and giving in ourselves, it is very helpful to develop our awareness of all the ways in which we are the recipients of what others give and of the generosity of life itself. Life is truly rich in blessings, offered to us freely and graciously, waiting to delight us if our eyes and hearts are open.

Albert Einstein wrote, "A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life depend on the labours of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the measure as I have received and am still receiving."

About seven years ago I was in the hospital for ten days being treated for an acute kidney infection. During that time, breakfast was often the most peaceful and reflective time of the day for me. The early morning flurry of hospital routines would have ended, and it was still too early for the phone to start to ring. I would spend several minutes in quiet, giving thanks for the day and for the food I was about to eat. Without the distractions and demands of my ordinary life weighing on my mind, I felt very awake to, and centered in, the present moment.

One morning as I was saying grace, I became suddenly aware of the extraordinary number of people who had been in some way or other involved in that food ending up on my tray - the farmers who had grown the grain and fruit, the people in factories who had processed and packaged the food, the truckers and railroad or airline workers who had transported it, the distributors who had sold it, the food service workers in the hospital who had prepared the tray and brought it to my bedside.

This sudden awareness deepened in me a precious sense of how interconnected and interdependent we are, with and upon one another. We are all profoundly connected, gifted and served by other people, in every aspect of our living. And we are, each one of us, very much a part of that intricate web of service, of giving and receiving that is the very rhythm of life.

I was filled with both a deep sense of gratitude and a deep yearning to bring as much intention and love to my part in that interconnectedness as I possibly can.

A few years ago a friend of mine had the epiphany that whatever love and kindness he gave to anyone was, in a way, simply a passing along to others, or a giving back to life, of the love and kindness he has received from countless people throughout his life. He shared with me that this perspective had brought an expansiveness and freedom into his experience of giving, and given him a great sense of fulfillment and joy.

The more we cultivate gratitude, the more we come to understand that all giving is, in a very real sense, thanksgiving for all that has been given, and is continually being given, us.

7. Notice where you are most caught up in the scarcity principle in your life, and practice gently increasing your generosity and giving in those areas.

Any aspect of our lives in which we perceive ourselves as lacking is a place where the scarcity principle has us in its grip. For some of us, our experience or fear of scarcity may center primarily around money. For others, it may be focused around time. For still others, it may be in the area of love, affection, or appreciation.

The areas in our lives where the scarcity principle has its strongest hold on our consciousness can be especially useful and powerful places to cultivate and practice generosity and giving.

Wherever we perceive scarcity we are tempted to hoard. But in actuality, following through on that temptation serves only to reinforce and deepen our experience of insecurity and fear. The willingness to practice giving in these areas can literally set us free from the tyranny of our own thoughts of limitation and lack. But we need to work with ourselves in these areas gently and lovingly, because they are places where we are deeply afraid.

·

When we decide to practice generosity and conscious giving, we're faced with the question of how much to give. Although the Course teaches that we need to learn to "give without limit," it also emphasizes that our spirituality needs to be practical, and that our spiritual practice should not increase our level of fear.

In practicing and cultivating generosity, it is not wise for us to embark on a frenzy of giving - to give away all of our possessions, empty our bank accounts, or spend all of our spare time volunteering. At the same time, if we truly want to cultivate generosity and reap its benefits to our spiritual growth, it is not wise to simply be content with our current ways and levels of giving.

So what guidelines should we follow? The Course indirectly offers some very interesting and helpful guidance.

In the section of the Manual for Teachers entitled "How Should the Teacher of God Spend His Day?" (M. pp. 38-39; M-16), we are told that, as soon as we can in the morning, we should give some quiet time to God. What is important is not the amount of time we spend, but rather the attitude, the openness and wholeheartedness, we bring to that time.

There is, however, one specific suggestion made as to how much time we spend in quiet. We are asked to give a little more than feels comfortable.

We're asked to notice when our quiet time begins to feel uncomfortable or difficult, and then to spend a minute or two more. One of two things will happen, we are told. Either the difficulty and discomfort will disappear, and we may choose to continue. Or the difficulty and discomfort will continue, and then that is the time to stop.

It seems to me that this is the most useful guideline for us in developing our practice of generosity and giving: Give a little more than you think you can, a little more than you feel comfortable with.

Remember that our ideas about ourselves and about what we can or cannot give are often based on an inner sense of limitation, scarcity, and fear. It would not be loving to ourselves to blatantly disregard and overrun these inner boundaries. To do so, in fact, would be likely to throw us into a panic and a backlash of constriction. On the other hand, we do want to gently stretch the edges of our self-concept, the bounds of our fears and limiting beliefs.

For example, we might try to be just a little more patient with our kids than we ordinarily would. Or just a little kinder to ourselves when we make a mistake. Or a little more understanding of the harried waitress who's having a bad day.

We might make the effort to be a little more present when someone is speaking to us. We might add a smile to the change we give to the homeless person on the street. We might give a slightly larger monetary contribution than we normally would to a worthy organization or cause.

When we go just a bit further in our giving than we're used to, one of two things will happen. Either our discomfort in making that little extra stretch will disappear, and we'll move to a new level of freedom and a greater flow of love in our giving. Or our discomfort will remain, and we'll know that we need to stop there for now.

But if we are willing to follow this simple guideline - to gently stretch the edges of our comfort zone, to give just a little more than we're completely comfortable with - we can trust that our capacity for generosity will expand and grow in a way that is healthy, self-respecting, and sound.

Let's remember that, in each act of giving, in each letting go of even a tiny bit of the constriction, holding, and fear in our minds and hearts, we can glimpse into the vastness of our potential to love. And that, indeed, is a taste of heaven.

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