A Samhain Invocation by Laura Dobson (me)
Spirits of Samhain, be with us as we celebrate Samhain in peace and honour the sanctity of our holy home, the Earth.
Spirits of the East, Purity of Air, Great Wind, who blew our ancestors here from over the sea, bring us your inspiration, that we may know our breath is the same air breathed by our ancestors. May there be peace in the East.
Spirits of the South, Heat of Fire, Great Sun, who has sustained all life on Earth since it began, bring us your cleansing warmth, that we may heal the wounds of the past. May there be peace in the South.
Spirits of the West, Flow of Water, Great Ocean, who nurtured the first life on Earth and nourishes us all still, bring us your love, that we may show compassion to each other and to all beings. May there be peace in the West.
Spirits of the North, Shelter of Earth, Great Cradle and Tomb, who births us all, nourishes us and receives us again, keep us grounded and help us to respect and care for you, as we become ancestors for those who will follow us. May there be peace in the North.
Spirit of Life, Centre of All, we ask for your blessings, your guidance and your inspiration. Grant us the gift of self-knowledge. May there be peace in all the Worlds. Blessed Be.
Image: Celebration of Earth, Air, Fire and Water by William Johnstone (1897-1981)

The story of Israel Goy by Rabbi Menachem Brod,

“In the city of Krakow, Poland, there lived a rich Jew by the name of Israel who was famous for his stinginess. The local beggars had long since given up trying to knock at his door. All attempts by the trustees of the community’s various charity funds to elicit at least a token contribution from him were met with polite but adamant refusals.
Israel’s utter heartlessness outraged and mystified the Jews of Krakow. From the days of Abraham, charity had been the hallmark of the Jew; in 17th-century Europe, where Jews were subject to frequent confiscations of their property and expulsions from their homes, it was essential to the community’s very survival that those of means should aid their impoverished fellows. How could a Jew be so indifferent to the needs of his brothers and sisters? People started referring to the rich miser in their midst as “Israel Goy,”(non Jew) and the epithet stuck.
Years passed, and the rich man grew old and frail. One day, the Krakow burial society received a summons to Israel’s home. “I feel that my days are numbered,” he told them when they came, “and I would like to discuss with you my burial arrangements. I have already had shrouds sewn for me, and I’ve hired a man to recite the kaddish for my soul. There is just one thing remaining: I need to purchase a plot for my grave.”
The members of the burial society decided that this was their opportunity to collect the debt owed by Israel to the community. “As you know,” they said to him, “there is no set price for a cemetery plot. Each Jew pays according to his ability, and the money is used for charitable purposes. Since you are a wealthy man, and since—if you will excuse our bluntness—you have not been very forthcoming over the years in sharing the burdens of the community, we think it appropriate to charge you 1000 gulden.”
The rich man calmly replied: “For my deeds I shall be judged in the heavenly court. It is not for you to judge what I did or did not do in the course of my life. I had planned to pay 100 guldens for my plot—quite a respectable sum—and that is what I shall pay, not a penny more. I’m not asking for any special location or a fancy gravestone. Bury me where you see fit. I have just one request: on my gravestone, I want it to be inscribed ‘Here lies Israel Goy.’”
The members of the society exchanged glances: was the old man out of his mind? They spent a few more minutes at his bedside, hoping to secure at least a modest sum for the community poor, but finally left his house in exasperation.
The entire town was abuzz with this latest show of miserliness by “Israel Goy.” How low can a man sink! Even at death’s door, he’s hoarding his wealth, refusing to share his blessings with the needy.
Israel’s funeral was a sorry affair. It was difficult to even scrape together the needed quorum of ten to conduct a proper Jewish burial. He was buried off to a side, on the outskirts of the cemetery. No eulogies were held, for what could be said of such a man?
The following Thursday evening, the was a knock on the door of the chief rabbi of Krakow, the famed Rabbi Yomtov Lipman Heller (1579–1654, known as the author of Tosefot Yom Tov). In the doorway stood a man who explained that he had nothing with which to purchase wine, candles, challah and food for Shabbat. The rabbi gave him a few coins from his private charity fund and wished him a “Good Shabbat.”
A few minutes later there was another knock on the door, heralding a similar request. A third petitioner followed, and then a forth and a fifth. Within the hour, no less than twenty families came to ask for the rabbi’s aid to meet their Shabbat expenses. The rabbi was mystified: nothing like this had happened before in all his years in Krakow. Why this sudden plague of poverty?
Rabbi Heller called an emergency meeting of the trustees of the community’s charity funds, but they could not explain the phenomenon. They, too, had been deluged with hundreds of requests for aid in the last few hours. The communal coffers had been virtually emptied!
As if on cue, there was another knock on the door. “Tell me,” asked the rabbi after handing a few coins to the latest petitioner, “how did you manage until now? What did you do last week?”
“We bought on credit at the grocer’s,” replied the pauper. “Whenever we needed food and did not have with what to pay, the merchant said it was not a problem—he just wrote it down in his ledger. He didn’t even bother us about payment. But now he says that that arrangement is over.”
Investigation revealed that hundreds of families in Krakow had subsisted this way—up to now. For some reason, none of the grocers, fishmongers and butchers were willing to extend credit any longer to the town’s poor.
The rabbi called the town’s food merchants to his study and demanded to know what was going on. At first they refused to tell him. But Rabbi Heller was adamant. “You’re not leaving this room,” he insisted, “until you tell me what this is all about.”
Finally, the truth came out. For years, Israel had supported hundreds of the poorest families in Krakow. Every week the town’s merchants would present the bill to him, and he paid in full. His only condition was that not a soul, not even their closest family members, should know. “If any one of you breathes a word of this to anyone,” he threatened, “you won’t see another copper from me ever again.”
Rabbi Yomtov Lipman was shattered. Such a special person had lived in their midst, and they, in their haste to judge him, had insulted him and reviled him.
The rabbi announced that the shloshim (30th-day anniversary of the passing) of Israel shall be a public fast day. All adults will neither eat nor drink from morning to evening, and all will gather at the cemetery to beg forgiveness from the deceased.
The rabbi himself eulogized Israel. “You,” he cried, “fulfilled the mitzvah of tzedakah (charity) in its most perfect form—without taking any credit for the deed, and ensuring that no recipient of your generosity should ever stand ashamed before his benefactor or feel indebted to him. And we repaid you with derision and scorn . . .” The rabbi expressed the wish that when his own time came, he should be laid to rest next to Israel. “We buried you near the fence, like an outcast, but I shall consider it a great honor and privilege to be buried near you!”
The rabbi also instructed that the rich man’s last wish be fulfilled. On the marker raised above the grave were etched the words “Here lies Israel Goy.” However, one word was added to the inscription—the word kadosh, “holy one.” And so the inscription reads to this day on the gravestone adjoining that of the famed Rabbi Yomtov Lipman Heller in the old Jewish cemetery of Krakow: “Here lies Israel Goy Kadosh.””

The Meaning of Love by Sufi poet Rumi,

“Both light and shadow
are the dance of Love.

Love has no cause;
it is the astrolabe of God’s secrets.

Lover and Loving are inseparable
and timeless.

Although I may try to describe Love
when I experience it I am speechless.

Although I may try to write about Love
I am rendered helpless;
my pen breaks and the paper slips away
at the ineffable place
where Lover, Loving and Loved are one.

Every moment is made glorious
by the light of Love.”

“The chief element of happiness is this: to want to be what you are.”
Philosopher and theologian Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus (commonly known as Erasmus), born on this day in 1466

From The Celtic Spirit: Daily Meditations for the Turning Year by Caitlin Matthews,
“Unleashing Joy
‘He who binds to himself a joy
Does a winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity’s sunrise.’
William Blake, Eternity
Joy is not a creature of the cupboard; it is wild, free, and profligate, spending itself in one great burst of energy. The ability to enjoy and be part of something is a skill many of us lose; as we disengage from the immediacy of life, we are less able to sink ourselves deeply into things. This distancing of the self often arises from the need to protect ourselves from perceived dangers (physical and emotional). Whatever its cause, this form of separation from life clips the wings of joy very effectively.
Certain people want to restrain the freedom of others; having hushed the ecstatic song of joy in their own lives as a thing too flighty or too dangerous to be allowed, they find it suspect in others as well. At the other extreme are people who, having tasted joy, want it all the time.
Whatever our condition, how do we make access to joy? It can come only when there are three conditions present: a state of lively engagement with life, a receptive and spacious heart, and a respect for other beings than ourselves. If we live in a closed-off bubble, forcing life to happen beyond us, joy cannot enter; but if we play ball with life, catching and throwing back the many experiences that come our way, we begin our true engagement. If we have a daily receptive space where we allow the universe to speak to us, joy will find its way. If we truly believe that the freedom of other beings is as important as our own, if we truly respect that freedom, joy will wing toward us.”

“How can you sing of Amazing Grace? How can you sing prayerfully of heaven and earth and all God’s wonders without using your hands? My hands, my feet, I throw my whole body to say all that is within me.”
Mahalia Jackson, ‘Queen of Gospel’ singer (1911 – 1972), born on this day.
It was Mahalia Jackson who sparked Martin Luther King Jr’s ‘I have a dream speech’ by calling out to him as he paused, “Tell them about the dream, Martin!” At this, Martin Luther King abandoned his notes and began to speak from the heart, delivering one of the most powerful speeches in human history. In a letter after the event he described her as “a blessing to me and a blessing to Negroes who have learned through her not to be ashamed of their heritage.”

“Men and boys are learning all kinds of trades – except how to make men of themselves. They learn to make houses; but they are not so well housed, they are not so contented in their houses, as the woodchucks in their holes. What is the use of a house if you haven’t got a tolerable planet to put it on?”
Henry David Thoreau (1817 – 1862), Transcendentalist poet, philosopher, and naturalist, raised Unitarian

“Do you not know? Have you not heard?
The Lord is God from old, Creator of the earth from end to end,
He never grows faint or weary,
His wisdom cannot be fathomed.
He gives strength to the weary, fresh vigour to the spent.
Youths may grow faint and weary, and young men stumble and fall;
But they who trust in the Lord shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not grow weary,
They shall walk and not grow faint.”
Isaiah 40:28-31

“A lot of people try to counteract the ‘I am not good enough’ with ‘I am good enough.’ In other words, they take the opposite and they try to invest it. That still keeps the world at the level of polarities. The art is to go behind the polarities. So the act is to go not to the world of ‘I am good’ to counteract ‘I am bad,’ or ‘I am lovable’ as opposed to ‘I am unlovable.’ But go behind it to the fact that I do crappy things and I do beautiful things and I am. That includes everything and I am.”
Ram Dass

From Earth Bound: Daily Meditations for All Seasons by Brian Nelson,
“On this day in 1734, Daniel Boone was born. John Mack Faragher’s biography of the woodsman describes how, in the early years of his marriage, Boone would disappear into the forest for long hunts, sometimes lasting a year or so. After one of these hunts, Boone returned to find a child born to his wife, a child fathered out of her loneliness and his absence. To his credit, Boone accepted the child as his own and she grew to be the most loyal of children.
Hunting and trapping on the frontier, risky as it was, was probably easier for Boone than living in society. The call of the wild is powerful and ignored at one’s peril – yet those who turn to the wild to escape life’s complexities may find that their lives remain just as complicated upon their return. The wilderness is not an escape, but an inspiration that can make each day richer no matter where you are.”