spirituality | A Pilgrim's Odyssey

What are life’s defining moments, and are they chosen for us or by us? This is a question I have often asked in recent times, and those of you who may have had similar inquiries will most likely be unsurprised at hearing that the answers seem elusive.

Are life’s defining moments inherently spiritual or does it depend on the moment itself and our own belief system? For me, the preeminent question within the question itself would be, what do the moments define? If they remind us of our own mortality and compel us to see life less as the random series of events it may often seem to be and more of a series of circumstances along a path of purpose, then they define not only moments but life itself.

I have often said that it’s the moments in life that, in the end, we will remember most vividly, but I overlooked an important caveat when I made such a declaration. Mere moments, random moments, moments like any other will rarely be remembered. Rather, it will be the moments that changed everything in our lives in a split second, for better or for worse, that will leave behind their indelible stamp.

All too often, particularly in a culture where the handwritten word has been replaced by email and the heartfelt conversation with a text message, we fail to grasp the seriousness of life in all its brevity. We seem oblivious to the fact that at some point, tomorrow will be the last tomorrow and that all that we love that is living will either die before us or live after us.

Poet Mary Oliver, whose work seems to be infused with an uncanny comprehension of both life’s sacredness and its impermanence once said, “To live in this world, you must be able to do three things; to love what is mortal, to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it, and when the time comes to let it go, let it go.”

For me, Mary’s poetic wisdom reaches far beyond the words themselves. Her poem can be adopted as a guidebook for how one should live day by day, recognizing that everything that breathes is mortal and that all that is alive, including those plants, trees, and flowers that we don’t usually think of as sentient “beings,” will at some point die.

We are so busy trying to impress other people, building lives of success rather than significance, making money to purchase things that, much of the time, we don’t even need that the sacred portion of life remains behind a glass cabinet, like an antique vase we never touch. If only we were to slow down, open the cabinet and take out the vase, rather than allowing it to remain unused, accumulating dust.

It’s ironic how quick we often are to impose definitions on things, people, and experiences- yet, miraculously, we let life’s defining moments sweep past us without taking time to interpret them. It is only later, in retrospect, that we often become cognizant of the fact that something monumental happened to us, and because of the lapse between the past and present, deciphering the full import of those moments can be like translating a language we have never learned.

It has been said that in a world where anything seems to go, nothing remains sacred. Of course, for those who, like me, hold fast to an ongoing relationship with God, there will always be the sacredness of spirituality. But for those who have no faith and believe in nothing outside themselve, finding the sacred in today’s world might well be like trying to find a single diamond in a heap of cubic zirconia stones while blindfolded.

Yet, I wish to present the idea that the sacred still exists for everyone, and while I think God makes finding the sacred easier, it can also be found in the absorption, acknowledgement, and appreciation, of life’s defining moments.

We will never master the art of defining life itself, for it was never intended to be defined. And defining people isn’t our job but rather the assignment of a Higher Power. As for defining circumstances and situations, there are generally too many variables and perspectives involved to achieve an accurate conjecture.

But what we can define are moments- or, perhaps, they define us.

Peace & Blessings,

Sascha 🦉

Image: Actress Emma Watson as “Rebel Belle,” a cover story for Vanity Fair, lensed by photographer Tim Walker; Stylist: Jessica Diehl; March 2017

If you were brought up in a home where church was attended or even had friends or family who went to church regularly, I’m sure you’ve heard that “Jesus is the reason for the season.”

When I was a little girl, my grandmother wore a sweatshirt with the saying stitched boldly and in festive colors across the front. I still remember seeing her in the sweatshirt, and even though my mind knew the truth behind those words, my heart didn’t embrace it.

Like most people, the true meaning of Christmas became submerged beneath the transitory allure of the secular holiday, which, if we are honest, has little, if anything, to do with Bethlehem or a Savior named Jesus being born.

How ironic it is that a movie called “The Grinch Stole Christmas” has become almost a cultural phenomenon when the truth of the matter is that we, as humans, stole the meaning of Christmas long before any film about a Grinch was ever made.

In a way, those of us who celebrate Christmas as mostly a time of gift-wrapping and present-swapping, parties involving vast quantities of eggnog, hot cocoa, and cookies, along with Christmas songs and visits from an imaginary Santa have stolen Christmas.

Now before you think I must have lost my mind in saying such a thing, let me explain what I mean.

In much the same way that the iconic Grinch tries to steal Christmas from the townspeople where he lives, we have tried to steal Christmas from Jesus. We’ve wrapped up the simple story of a baby born in a manger and left it under a tree, while giving our attention and adulation to secular stories where the key figures aren’t three wise men but instead elves, reindeer, and Mr.and Mrs. Claus. As for Bethlehem, it’s become the North Pole.

Once again, I feel I should explain something before I go further. I understand that there are those who believe Jesus was only a good man and not the Son of God. I’m not judging any of my readers who don’t believe as I do. However, even if we differ in terms of who we believe Jesus is, we surely agree that Christmas is a day that is named in his honor.

It’s perplexing to me that a baby of such humble beginnings is the person behind a time of year in which excess is seen in everything and where opulent attire and extravagant presents are often not only given but expected.

Yet, for every person or family for whom it’s the “most wonderful time of the year,” there is another person or family for whom the season is far from wonderful. As a society, it’s become politically correct to pay lip service to helping the homeless or donating to the “less fortunate,” but if the desire to do these things dwelled in our hearts, we wouldn’t need a special time of the year to remember them.

If we even pretend to attach any religious or spiritual significance to Christmas whatsoever, no one should have to inspire us to want to show love, compassion, and kindness to others. And when we fully comprehend that without the most important gift the world has ever known, Jesus, there would be no genuine hope for any of us, we realize that regardless of what we want, we have an obligation to honor that Gift by sharing it with those around us.

Heaven knows, I realize it can be awkward and downright embarrassing to talk about Jesus to a perfect stranger, but we are not called to live a life of comfort but rather a life of meaning in which God’s purpose for us prevails over our own desires and wishes. Santa and elves are cute and fun and they certainly can inspire whimsical decorations, but the greatest story of all the ages began with a nativity, not a sleigh. And there were no reindeer nor were there sumptuously decorated trees or fancy lights in that rustic stable oh so long ago in Bethlehem.

Jesus’s birth was an occasion of humility, and in coming to earth in order to be crucified for all the sins of mankind, the Son of God performed the ultimate act of selflessnes. His story and identity are things one can either accept or not, but no one can dispute He came from humble beginnings.

In our misguided efforts as mortals to equate an important event with fanfare and frivolity, we’ve replaced the manger with materialism and Christ with commercialism. An Ebenezer Scrooge isn’t needed for our narrative to take a tragic turn. Indeed, the only way that our story can become anything but tragic is for us to decide to do something drastic. And that drastic step is to put Christ back in Christmas.

Surely, since there would be no Christmas without a Christ, we should honor and remember Him before we pay homage to fanciful figures of pixies and white bearded men in fuzzy red suits.

But in our remembrance, we need to keep in mind that the gift God gave us through Jesus was not one that was forced upon us. It wasn’t like the present exchanges that are now such an integral part of Christmas. It was a gift that was given with no expectation of a return. God only asks that we accept the gift and, in return, the Light that came to brighten the entire world will illuminate our hearts, so that we can show and share the Love that is synonymous with Jesus not just once a year but the whole year through.

As Charles Spurgeon, the celebrated English”Prince of Pastors” once said, “The grandest Light in history is Jesus.”

Peace and Blessings,

Sascha 🕊

A Pilgrim's Odyssey

Tag Archives: spirituality

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