Acceptance (renewal of heart)

Rick and I love to shop in the "oops aisle" at Home Depot. We have painted out entire house using paint that was an accident. Maybe it had too much red to satisfy some Highland Park household. We have gotten really high end -- Ralph Lauren -- paints at about $5 a gallon.

Rick got some turquoise paint one time that was a lot brighter than he had thought. Not a problem, he just went back over it with a sponge and some black paint. We now have a faux finish that is intensely cool.

I cannot stand living inside a white box. Give me a white wall, and I am going to want to do something with it. Anything: chartreuse, cyan, puce. Rick and I make a good team: I paint the middles, and he paints the edges. You do not want me to paint trim.

A few months ago, I found some orange (a color that I don't like)... and we mixed it with some cream. Voila: we got ourselves some peach-colored walls in the living room.

Part of the reason I like this approach is the serendipity. You never really know what you are going to get when you encounter the "oops aisle."

However this is NOT like the famous line from "Forrest Gump." The oops aisle is not quite like a box of chocolates. Not every color is a piece of chocolate. Some of the colors are wild and animated. Some are so drab that there's nothing I want to do with them.

In the "oops aisle" it is all first-come/first-served... and don't even think about returning anything. What you see is what you get, and icks'nay on returns.

Today's gospel shows that God takes us all. Jesus shops the "oops aisle" and found the likes of us. "Arise and walk," He says. He did not check on the man's background. Jesus takes all of us on an "as is" basis.

Isn't it a comfort that God is okay with us, even when we do something stupid. I have never heard of a case where God said "you're not good enough for me." Politicians say that all the time. War-mongers say that all the time. Churches curse and excommunicate and burn people at the stake and go on crusades... all the time.

I've been told that I would be burning in Hell for being born gay. I've been told that no Catholic can go to heaven. I have not been told any of these things by God, and I am as grateful as I know how to be that these hateful people are not the ones who will be at the pearly gates on Judgment Day.

And as a wrech like me received an amazing amount of grace, I have a responsibility to return the favor. What I already know about you is that you are damaged goods... we all are. It's common. It isn't a big deal. What would be a big deal is if you came to God's table unblemished and with no scars. That would be weird.

As you have made room for me, I need to make room for you. That means I need to accept you... to accept you with all your warts and scars.

The magic is this: when I actively accept you, the universe openly accepts me. Listen to a famous passage from the "Big Book" of Alcoholics Anonymous... page 449...

That passage applies to everyone, not just addicts. Acceptance is one of the fundamental tenets of Buddhism. It is the message of today's gospel. Acceptance is about as universal a spiritual tool as we have.

Our level of serenity is directly proportional to our level of acceptance. If you don't accept things, you are not serene. Period. You may be confident, even smug. That is your brain playing tricks, and it certainly won't last. If you are in an accepting mood, everyone around you acts better... or seems to.

When I accept life on life's terms, I find serenity. When I concern myself with changing my own attitude, somehow you end up being mystically transformed. And like Jesus shopping the "oops aisle"... I need to follow suit and remember this astonishing and powerful recipe for serenity: acceptance is the answer to all my problems.