Seeking Our Connection Point

    Yearning to be Yoked

The story of mankind has been one of emigrational search and discovery. Columbus sailed to find new lands not certain that a fall over the horizon was imminent. The Oklahoma land rush of 1889 was a chance for one's own little plot of land. John Glenn showed the masses we might even be able to escape our own inhabitable planet. Many of us individually have  longed to find our somewhere, a place where we belong. We long to become whole, complete, One. This quest becomes so self centered that it sometimes boils down to a simple effort to be comfortable in our own skin.

Christmas tree and Syzygy?

No doubt we were meant to be in fellowship, joined together in common purpose, linked to one another, connected to something greater and more meaningful than our unsettled selves. What I experienced a week ago today was the most extreme example of this seeking I have witnessed in my sober lifetime. I would like to share with the special audience that reads this blog what the 2017 Solar Eclipse meant to me through the signs our creator placed before all for personal discovery.

In preparing myself for the mystery of this celestial wonder, I learned a new word: Syzygy. It is an amazingly spiritual yet scientific word. My understanding in relation to the 2017 Solar Eclipse is it represents a celestial phenomena where three bodies: sun, moon and earth reach perfect alignment.  (See:Syzygy) Wow, alignment, is not that something we hope for with the wheels on our car? We strive to keep ourselves on the right road smoothly in a straight line, correct? Sounds a bit synonymous with belonging and becoming whole, no? This past week's heavenly alignment does not occur often. In fact, where the path of totality crosses the entire continental United Sates- one coast to the other- well, it had not happened for ninety nine years, more than a lifetime!

Oh the richness of the symbolism in this gift of the Universe! It was estimated that about 20 million people could or would be in the American path of totality. This is where the moon blots out the whole sun. Totality, wholeness, completeness, peace, all of same import. Isn't this what we are searching for? Well, at least it is for me. So off I went -as I guess I do everyday- seeking the "Path of Totality."

I found myself in Andrews, North Carolina on Monday, August 21, 2017 amidst a festival day atmosphere with many a pilgrim young and old gazing upward in awestruck worship. Andrews is located in the exact center of this path of totality, point zero.  I discovered Syzygy is not complete, not whole. It does not reach it's fullness without us as receiving witnesses becoming one as our Creator's masterpiece. Our Father desires us to be part of His alignment. We will be at peace when we are aligned with His will. Right at the point of total eclipse it became very quiet and still, very peaceful.  On the exterior of the Andrews United Methodist Church there was a large sign. It spoke of the day. It yelled to me. It pointed to the path of wholeness, completeness, oneness, totality, if you will. It was a suggestion for a Way to peace from words of Christ to us:

Jesus's words on the sign from Matthew 11:28 were not the words that rung out to me that day. If you clicked the Syzygy link a few paragraphs before this one, you might have noticed the Greek origins of the word mean to "yoke together." Hear His words from verse 29-30

"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

Based on the experiences in Andrew's NC last Monday- now more than ever- I believe Abba's gift of Syzygy needed US to complete it just as He needs US now to complete the gift of His Son and Holy Spirit to carryout His will in the world.

Father may we make ourselves available to you as willing witnesses. May you guide each of us to our own path of totality that we may know your good and pleasing will for us.

Amen 

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Bradford Bosworth

August, 2017

In or Of the World?

Grace in Small Things

Costa Rica's Blue Morpho Butterfly

This past week I found myself moving through a tropical rain forest in various modes of transportation. The diverse media included: zip line, horseback, two feet and four wheels. The most pulsating was hanging over majestic gorges through rain clouds in the soft falling rain with the Pacific ocean looming in the distance. 

"Look at eleven o'clock" suggested our guide Donald, who also pointed out his last name was not Trump!

My friend Patti and Donald

In his book "The Ragamuffin Gospel" Brennan Manning quotes a Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel from his death bed, "Never once in my life did I ever ask God for success or wisdom or power or fame. I asked for wonder and He gave it to me."

I am grateful that I often experience wonder in my everyday comings and goings. The screech of a red tail hawk flying overhead, a fleeting appearance of a dragonfly with no water near by, a night owl lighting under a street lamp or the sweet sound of "good night" over the phone from my girlfriend Patti.

The freshness that comes with travel to a new locale always heightens one's sense of wonder. Although, being raised in tropical Miami, Florida, some things in Costa Rica were not so new for me. I have lived in and among palm trees, seagulls, hibiscus plants, orange trees, waves breaking on the beach and of course the swim up pool bar. I quit that pool bar activity a few years back.

The Park

What was most wonderful to this man was watching the little creatures. On our first day Patti and I decided to count butterflies and dragonflies. Within hours we abandoned this effort. There were too many to count even on the grounds of our resort. When we traveled to the Rincon del a Vieja park and in the rain forest our sense of wonder bordered on infinite.

The rain forest is a busy place! There is much coming and going, God's grand central station if you will. The most notable traveler had to be the ever present and largest of the prolific butterflies. It's name is the Blue Morpho. One of our guides pointed out that it's likeness is on their currency. Either I or this beautiful creature were never still long enough for me to get a picture. The ones in my memory will suffice.

While on this vacation, a friend and I were engaged in a deep spiritual conversation over a game of chess. We were talking of being in the world  as opposed to being of the world.  The name morpho brings with it meaning changed or modified. When we are in the world, we have the opportunity to change the world. We can ask for and receive the wonder of God's creation; His Grace in the littlest things. When we are of the world, we are subject to the world changing us. We often miss His little details and the wonders of Creation.

"He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much; and he who is unjust in what is least is unjust also in much."

Luke 16:10 (NKJV)

This Gospel scripture has always spoken to me: Unless you can see and appreciate His Grace in the smallest things you will never truly appreciate the wonder of it on the grander scale.

Father may I be more in the world than of the world so I might receive the wonder of your Grace. Amen.

Bradford Bosworth

August 8, 2017

Falling into Enmity

Forego Foraging Forbidden Fruit

I know a guy who found himself in a financial morass a few years back; a foreclosure and a subsequent divorce and his living conditions changed dramatically. He lost most all of his material possessions. It happen so quick that he did not have the option of obsessing over what turned out to be only dispensable stuff that we can't take with us when we leave this life anyway. In a matter of a couple years he went from being the association president in an upscale neighborhood to a resident in a high turnover community he refers to as "the hood." The transition landed him into a small low rent house in a neighborhood where he could not distinguish between fireworks and gunshots, especially on the 4th of July! He speaks of hearing regularly all kinds of new sounds from disturbingly loud expletive laden domestic arguments and the whine of police sirens, to the more pleasing sound of children's music broadcasting through the loudspeakers on an ice cream truck.

My friend often speaks of the humbling effect of his relocation experience. He has come to believe our Creator prunes us back from time to time so we might bear richer fruit in His Kingdom. Were my friend to have viewed his current abode and neighborhood from the lofty illusion of his former home, he would have judged them homely. Now he can sit on his back porch and see a bit of heaven on earth.

The Garden

It is amazing what we observe when we open our eyes and see from a humbled point of perspective. One day a year ago what typically he would characterize as the mundane or maybe even drab view of the neighborhood from the back deck changed dramatically See: The Split in the Garden.  His view  has never been the same.

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Recently while he was washing dishes, the man now retired, was peering out the window above the kitchen sink into the back yard. He noticed that where the big oak had split from the powerful lighting strike, a strange but familiar branch was protruding from another tree behind and it looked like a giant snake.

Sink Window

One of the effects of this man's humbling is a faith that instructs "Take nothing for granted!"  Our Creator speaks to us in so many ways and expressions, at all times.  If we are seeking His presence, we will be amazed at our enlightenment. From every angle my friend watches out for the serpent in his garden daily.

Our faith requires a diligent practice of obedience to our Creator so we might grow continually in our relationship with Him. For this friend of mine, it is a daily back yard reminder to forego the foraging of forbidden fruit. Be in the world not of the world.

The Fall, Genesis 3:1(NIV)

"Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals

the Lord God had made..........."

Amen Brother

Bradford Bosworth

July, 2017

The View from Prodigal Point

Which Brother am I?

(Writer's Note: The final -6th- in a Series)

"But he was angry and he  would not go in. Therefore his father came out and pleaded with him."

Luke 15:28 (NKJV)

This writer is compelled to complete this series of personal family reflections in a bow to Father's Day. It all begins with our Father. It all ends with our Father.  Our recent journey of two brothers which included visiting the graves of fathers, mothers and aunts who would be sisters, also involved stories of  "Dads" who stood in for and in place of fallen and passed fathers. And a brother who filled in as father from time to time.

I believe we all have afflictions in one form or another. We are all in recovery from a tendency to turn in on ourselves. The reader might recognize the response, "No thanks, I got this."  We are either the prodigal son or his brother; either Mary or sister Martha (Luke 10:38-42). We all need release. I pray daily, "Release me Father".

On this trip we visited the home of a close relative.  We were not sure that she would receive us. For she had spent her life trying to put distance between herself and her birth father. It had been around fifty years since I had seen her last as an infant. Perhaps the depth and  pervasiveness of a pain born of abandonment would dissipate.  Thankfully this accomplished business woman opened up and we got to visit with her! She showed us two distinct keepsakes which spoke of her life. giving me a special insight: my view from the Prodigal Point:

My new friend then proceeded to describe the first item, "This is my baby chair. I sat in this chair waiting for my father to come home! For years I sat in this chair and looked out the window for my father. He never came home."

Hal and I had been in conversation with her mother the evening before our visit. We learned that a step father, the man who would marry her mother, was a prince of a man. This step father would become "Dad" and a rich, deep and everlasting love would blossom between "Dad" and daughter.  And then the wounded lady told us about her "Dad" in a glowing dissertation of adoration. This man who would be "Dad" passed in 2015. He also left behind for family a vast and panoramic legacy. And then the lady took us to see the second item, explaining that "Dad" was an artist. We stood in awe gazing at the mural hanging above the stairway landing.

A gift from our Father

My brothers' and my father Harold died in 1964. As baby of the family, I was twelve and did not really get to know him well. Through others' eyes I know he was revered and respected.  Our mom Jeanne, over a decade later, would marry a man named Alfred. (See: Requiem Letters: 11/18/16)  We knew him as  "Papa Al" and he was, as well, a prince of a man!

Jeanne and Harold meet Leonard Bernstein

Jeanne and Papa Al

Here is what I believe:  We are all in recovery from our afflictions and need release from them. Our Creator- Father God- places people in our path of life. They are our angels along the Way. Some fallen or falling serve to bring us pain. Some risen or rising serve to lift us up.  Some are the prodigal son, some the brother; some Martha, some Mary.  All serve to bring us to the Father's purpose.  As well, so are we here to serve our Father's purpose!

"for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father who speaks in you."

Matthew 10:20

Amen Dad and Papa Al

Bradford Bosworth

June, 2017

Reflections on the Portage Path

A Vast and Panoramic Legacy

(Writer's note: fifth in a series)

"Nothing is hidden that won't be exposed. Nor is anything concealed that won't be made known and brought to the light." 

 Luke 8:17 (CEB)

Etna was a small turn of the century Steel Mill Town across the river from Pittsburgh. It contained a sizable and proud German population in which Grand Pa Martin Metzger was a town elder, an alderman type leader in the community.  When he and his wife Catherine learned that unwed daughter Henrietta had become pregnant, the pressures of their standing in the community led them to conceal the fact.  You see, they found themselves in a off-kilter culture that would despicably label a child of an unwed mother "illegitimate".  So Martin and Catherine did what they had to and created a story line that it was Catherine who was in a bedridden pregnancy and Henrietta who would stay at home to attend to her. The child who would be born behind this veil of secrecy was our Mom Jeanne.

Small Street of Secrets

The first time  I remember my mother breaking down in sobs was the day she told me of how she learned the truth.  She had spent her first ten or so years viewing Martin and Catherine as her parents and her mom Henrietta, aunts Betty and Tirzah as her sisters. The one lesson my mother preached and taught to me was: "Tell the truth!"  She first heard the truth from some mean spirited kids on the play ground.

Precious Jeanne

Here is the truth I have discerned as a result of this past week's travels with my brother. The cruel depression era vestiges of the small blue collar town that is Etna, Pa. remain today like in a time warp,  The miracle is that Jeanne strove to escape the confines of that little town and put herself into position to meet a man: Harold B Bosworth. A man who would love her away from the past that society would shame her and the family for.  Oh how far her odyssey took her away from her beginnings.  The distance between that small town Pennsylvania playground and the places where her grand children and great grandchildren play is a vast an panoramic legacy!

The Metzger/Bosworth Clan

Post Script: My first introduction to the Broadway musical genre was as a pre-teen. West Side Story blew me away, still does. The following pictures: the first (album soundtrack autographed to me by Mr. Bernstein) of which hangs in my home and second (hangs in Hal's home) with Leonard Bernstein himself, show glimpses of the distance Mom put in her life from where it all began.

"Every Good Wish to Brad Bosworth"

Leonard Bernstein

Jeanne, Harold, Leonard Bernstein

Amen Mom and Dad

Bradford Bosworth

June, 2017