love dogs

At a church council retreat today we were asked to choose a favorite hymn or song, and then reflect a bit on what it says to us about humanity, about God, and about living in community. It's an interesting exercise and one I recommend for meditation. Music - whether it is deemed "sacred" or not - has a formative impact in many of our lives. It is an interesting exercise to consider the messages we receive from a favorite song or melody.

What immediately came to my own mind were the words and haunting melody (which, unfortunately, I cannot share here) of the following hymn:


I Sought the Lord

I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew
he moved my soul to seek him seeking me.
It was not I that found, O Savior true,
no, I was found of thee.

Thou didst reach forth thy hand and mine enfold,
I walked and sank not on the storm-vexed sea.
'Twas not so much that I on thee took hold
as thou, dear Lord, on me.

I find I walk, I love, but, oh, the whole
of love is but my answer, Lord to thee!
For thou wert long beforehand with my soul,
always thou lovedst me.

words: from Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads, 1880

There is an important message here for organized religion, which sometimes feels defensive or reactive in the face of people's questions, challenges and seeking, especially when these impulses begin to push out what have been considered some of the acceptable edges and boundaries of our religious institutions. What if we understood the yearning and the seeking and questions to be the Presence? What if we sought to affirm the questions, the challenges, the impulses to explore, as expressions of the One who is first and always seeking, moving, holding and loving us?

It makes me think of a wonderful story from the Sufi mystic, Jelaludin Rumi:

One night a man was crying, Allah! Allah!

His lips grew sweet with the praising,
until a cynic said,
"So, I have heard you calling out,
but have you ever gotten any response?"

The man had no answer to that.
He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.

He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls,
in a thick green foliage.

"Why did you stop praising?"

"Because I never heard anything back."

"This longing you express is the return message."

The grief you cry out from
draws you toward union.

Your pure sadness that wants help
is the secret cup.

Listen to the moan of a dog
for its master.
That whining is the connection.

There are love-dogs
no one knows the name of.

Give your life to be one of them.

From The Illuminated Rumi,

translation by Coleman Barks