Two weeks ago this Friday, on October 26, my girlfriend and I traveled to Southern California to visit relatives. While in the Los Angeles area, we decided to attend "The Night of Hope" with Joel and Victoria Osteen. The event was held at the Staples Center and after declining to be seated in the nose bleed seats of the third level of the center, my girlfriend and I settled comfortably in our seats in Section 107. I am not a big fan of Joel Osteen, but my girlfriend finds his populist, scripture-lite, message to be quite appealing. Indeed, one of her favorite books is Osteen's Everyday a Friday: How to Be Happier 7 Days a Week.
The "Night of Hope" was a rather pleasant affair. Not much was required of the participants and Osteen's revelation that we are all God's Masterpieces was a non-threatening, life affirming message. In this world of uncertainty, it is understandable why his message resonates with so many. But as I thought more about his message of masterpieces, it dawned on me that God's Masterpieces can be found in so many different venues, in so many different faiths, and with so many different people.
Case in point, before attending "The Night of Hope", my girlfriend and I had dinner with her parents in San Gabriel. Her mother, in celebration of our visit, had prepared a seven course meal. There were four or five vegetable dishes along with some very delicious chicken legs and the highlighted specialty of sea cucumbers. I had never had sea cucumbers and many of the vegetable dishes were new for me, but to my "provincial" surprise, everything was delicious. I expressed to my girlfriend my amazement at the variety and care that had been shown in preparing each dish. My girlfriend conveyed these comments to her mother who looked at me and said "Mother Happy." I then understood that this "masterpiece" of a meal was an act of love and appreciation ... and I was humbled by it.
The next day, Saturday, October 27, my girlfriend and I traveled to Victorville for a gathering of my siblings to celebrate my Mom's Birthday. Mom passed away almost two years ago, but in celebration of her life, four of her five children (along with my girlfriend) returned to Victorville to go to Mom and Dad's gravesites in remembrance. As my youngest brother, in a heartfelt manner, placed one by one two dozen roses in the cups on the graveyards, he articulated the reasons why he (and we) were grateful for what our parents had done for us. The fact that we were there and that we were showing our gratitude was itself a masterpiece... and I thank God for it.
The next day, Sunday, October 28, I offered to take my girlfriend on a tour of my hometown to show her my old high school and other haunts. To my surprise, my girlfriend refused to accompany me on my trip down memory lane. She had read that my hometown had become a more dangerous place and she had seen that the community seemed so bleak and run down. Indeed, whereas in my heyday, the town was known for being the home of George Air Force Base with its ambitious and disciplined young air men, today George Air Force Base is mainly a ghost town while across the highway from it has arisen a rather large federal penitentiary filled with young men whose lives stand in stark contrast to those who once inhabited the air force base. Seeing these two sites only reinforced the negative image of my hometown until we came to the outskirts. There, just outside the neighboring town of Adelanto, we saw a gleaming beacon of hope that compelled us to stop. It was a Buddhist temple and there, amongst the bleak landscape of the High Desert, a bright and shining "masterpiece" has begun to arise. The story about this masterpiece can be found at:
The "masterpiece" that is evident there is the love creation of a Buddhist monk and the love generated by him through his followers. Their combined love has led to something truly remarkable arising and now it is not just memories calling me back to Victorville, it is also the prospect of periodic reconnections with the divine while meditating at this temple. Case in point being the sight of my girlfriend (a contemporary doppelganger for Quan Yin) praying in front of the 24 foot tall statue of Quan Yin. Simply remarkable!
After leaving Victorville, we traveled onto Highway 58 through the Tehachapi Mountains. Just after the town of Tehachapi, we stopped in the mountain community of Keene. Most people have no idea where Keene is, but before the election, our dear President came to Keene. President Obama came to Keene to declare the gravesite of Cesar Chavez to be a National Monument. A story about Obama's visit can be found at:
I had been to Keene before but I wanted my girlfriend to visit the museum that documents the work of one of my heroes, Cesar Chavez. I also wanted her to see the beauty of the garden gravesite where Cesar Chavez is buried. As we saw the depiction of Chavez's heroic struggle to organize the farmworkers and as we strolled through the rose gardens that bookend his gravesite, it was evident that the life of Cesar Chavez was also a "masterpiece."
My friends, as the time for Thanksgiving approaches, I pray that you too will see God's Masterpieces as they abound about you and I pray that you too will take the time to say "Thank you" for those who helped to make God's Masterpieces possible.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving!
No comments:
Post a Comment