The Extraordinary Ordinary
The Extraordinary Ordinary
the tao of transfiguration
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.
As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” (Matthew 17:1-9)
Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
An old pond.
A frog jumps in.
The sound of the water.
On Canal Street, in downtown New Orleans, the streetcar leaves the French Quarter and runs upriver along St. Charles Avenue. The clanking streetcar travels under the oak trees, passes houses that inspired the writings of Anne Rice, and beyond Valence Street, where the music of The Neville Brothers comes from the front porches, beyond The Columns Hotel, pausing at Audubon Park, which is across the street from Loyola University New Orleans.
At the entrance to Loyola’s campus, you see our mini-mount, right under touchdown Jesus, where you find 30 of us, who are studying Zen Buddhism, meditating with our teacher in silence, listening to the sound of the streetcar passing by.
We sit in silence to listen. We sit in silence to remember. We sit in silence, becoming aware of the present. We sit in silence, desiring enlightenment. Perhaps enlightenment is appreciating the ordinary. According to the Buddha, desire is the cause of all dissatisfaction. We all desire the extraordinary. And desire causes us to lose appreciation for the ordinary. As we sit on that small hill under touchdown Jesus, counting the breath, often for hours at a time, we are reminded that all life is are moments between breathing in and breathing out. So ordinary. So extraordinary. Should we breathe each breath as if it is our last? Our desires cause delusions, and we pursue things that, in the end, don’t amount to much.
An old pond.
A frog jumps in.
The sound of the water.
Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
In life, it is easy to take much for granted. While looking for something else, we often miss what is right in front of us. God gives us moments of the extraordinary, so we can appreciate the ordinary more. But, we often miss and dismiss the ordinary because we seek the extraordinary.
Can you recall a moment in your life when you felt the extraordinary in an ordinary moment?
Our experiences of the extraordinary, cause us to measure the ordinary circumstances of our life against it. The Tao Te Ching, written by Lao Tzu, a contemporary of Confucius who lived in the 6th Century B.C., shares this, “Under heaven all can see beauty as beauty only because there is ugliness. All can know good as good only because there is evil. Therefore having and not having arise together. Difficult and easy complement each other.”
(Chapter 2)We know the extraordinary, because of the ordinary. We remember the Grand Canyon but often overlook the corner of Harlem and Madison as we make a left turn to just get somewhere else. We dream of parachuting out of an airplane or bungy jumping off the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in New Mexico but often overlook the miracle of simply driving a car down Lakeshore Drive. I want the extraordinary job, the extraordinary spouse, extraordinary children, and extraordinary faith. In pursuit of all this, I take the ordinary for granted.
And God is in the ordinary just as much as the extraordinary, even if we can’t perceive this. God is in my ordinary prayer life. God is in my ordinary job. God created the ordinary so we could live life in balance. Peter says in his letter, “You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.” But who doesn’t love the rollercoaster ride, the ups and downs of emotions out-of-control? We often pursue the adrenaline rush over the moments of breath sitting under Touchdown Jesus on the side of a mount.
How do I capture the extraordinary, so I don’t have to pursue it?
Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
Jesus had just finished a day of teaching. His gathering on the mount had yielded some practical advice. When you are poor in spirit, heaven can still be yours. When people make fun of you, God’s love remains. You are to be a light to others. Don’t hide your light. Ordinary things can yield extraordinary results. But, we make the beatitudes extraordinary, so they seem unattainable, just beyond our reach.
Lao Tzu, in the Tao Te Ching, says this, “Not exalting the gifted prevents quarreling. Not collecting treasures prevents stealing. Not seeing desirable things prevents confusion of the heart.”
(Chapter 3)
The sun was going down. Jesus and his disciples were so tired they couldn’t sleep. Their minds and hearts had been working on overdrive all day, and they couldn’t turn off the voices in their heads.
Jesus took Peter and John and James up the mountain to pray. Maybe praying would put them to sleep. While Jesus was praying, the appearance of his face changed. His clothes became dazzling white. Then, suddenly, standing next to him and speaking with him, were Moses and Elijah. Peter thought he was dreaming. Their friend Jesus was speaking with Moses, the deliverer of the people. Their friend Jesus was talking to Elijah, the prophet of politics and justice.
Peter was enamored with the vision. This was something truly extraordinary. This sure beats the list of the beatitudes. We need to capture this moment. Peter wanted to build three dwellings; one for Jesus, one for Moses and one for Elijah; a mountaintop university per se. A place where people could come to the mountaintop, sit around, and imagine how life should be; talking and dreaming instead of living it out, instead of doing something.
We can vision the extraordinary and then never do the ordinary work of carrying out the vision; never-ending committee meeting. A cloud suddenly covered the vision, and a voice said, “listen.” This extraordinary event is not where God is. God does not create extravaganzas to call us to faith. God calls us to follow Jesus. God makes the ordinary sacred. Waters to cleanse. Bread and wine to nourish. Love to share. Prayers to focus. Communities of faith where we can do the work God has given us to do. Nothing extraordinary about that.
But it is so easy to get caught up in the extraordinary. We seek the extraordinary, believing the extraordinary validates who we are. Then, the clouds cleared, and Jesus was standing with Peter and James and John. “Let’s go,” he said. “We have work to do. Tell no one about this.”
Visions can get in the way.
Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
Right now, today, on the streets of New Orleans, it’s Carnival time. People are partying on the city’s neutral grounds and sidewalks boiling crawfish, sharing kegs of beer, mixing up Bloody Marys, and eating Popeye’s Fried Chicken. Arthur Hardy, New Orleans’ Mardi Gras authority, shares this, “Carnival refers to the season of merriment which always begins on January 6. Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) is the single culminating day of Carnival and it is always the day before Ash Wednesday. The Catholic Church licensed Carnival, which means “farewell to flesh,” as a period of feasting before the fasting of Lent.”
People gather on the streets to eat, to dance, and to celebrate life. On the weekend before Mardi Gras, the big krewes parade - Endymion, Bachus, and Harry Connick’s Orpheus. Carnival gives way to Mardi Gras Day when the krewes of Zulu and Rex make their way from Uptown to the French Quarter.
However, let us never forget, Mardi Gras is made extraordinary by the ordinary. Food. Folks. Music. Storytelling. Celebration. Then at midnight, it ends. And we may believe we are plunged back into the ordinary. But, the food, the folks, the music, the storytelling, and the celebration of life, remains. And that is extraordinary.
Often, we miss God every day in our lives, because we believe God only works in the extraordinary. If we make God into something extraordinary, something extravagant, something perfect, we will put off getting to know God. Then, we can put off the work God is calling us to do.
Chapter 63 of the Tao Te Ching, says this, “See simplicity in the complicated. Achieve greatness in little things. In the universe, great acts are made up of small deeds”.
The cautionary warning embedded in Matthew’s telling of this extraordinary event on a mountaintop is, if we are not intentional, if we are not awake, if we are not in tune with the reality of our lives, it doesn’t matter where we are, we are going to miss God in the midst of the ordinary moments that make up our lives.
As we prepare to enter the season of Lent, my prayer for all of us is the hope to appreciate the ordinary. Because wherever we go and whatever we do, God is. And that is extraordinarily Good News.
An old pond.
A frog jumps in.
The sound of the water.
Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
Tao te ching / Lao Tsu; translated by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English; photography by Jane English; calligraphy by Gia-Fu Feng.
Ibid.
Ibid.