The Art of Loosening the Grip: A Reflection on the Passage Beyond

Friends, seekers, and those of you who just stumbled in here because you are tired of the noise: peace be with you. And if peace feels too far away right now, let’s just settle for a little quiet.

We are looking today at The Sutra of the Approaching Hour. It is a text about death, yes. But like all honest spiritual texts, it is actually about life. It speaks to that peculiar anxiety we all carry—the low-level hum in the back of our heads that asks, "Am I doing this right? Will I pass the test? What happens when the show is over?"

We spend our lives building distinct, solid identities. We build careers, we build families, we build reputations. We are architects of our own "self." And yet, deep down, we know that the ground we build on is shifting. We know that a "Passage" is coming.

The Myth of the Toll Booth

The Sutra begins with a challenge: "The Great Way is not difficult for those who have no preferences. Why worry about the moment of crossing?"

This is the voice of Jesus the Zennist. He is not the frightening judge of the medieval paintings, scowling at your ledger of sins. He is the Master who stands by the river, laughing gently because you are frantically building a bridge over water that is only ankle-deep.

We are terrified of the "Passage Beyond." We imagine it as a high-stakes border crossing. We think there will be a toll booth. We think an officer will come out, shine a flashlight in our eyes, and demand to see our papers. Did you pray enough? Did you donate to the right charity? Did you forgive your brother—even that one time he really didn't deserve it?

We cling to our "good works" like currency. The Sutra says, "If you cling to your 'good works' like coins to pay a toll, you are but a merchant in the temple." You see, if you are being good just to buy your way into heaven, you aren't being good; you're doing business. And as I once said, the Father’s house is not a marketplace.

The Gateless Gate: A Buddhist Reflection

This brings us to our first great neighbor in wisdom: the tradition of Mahayana Buddhism, specifically the teaching of the Heart Sutra.

In the Buddhist tradition, there is a mantra that is chanted to cut through the illusion of separation: Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā. It translates roughly to: "Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone altogether beyond, O awakening, hail!"

The Buddhists, much like the voice in our Sutra, teach that the "Passage" is an illusion caused by our dualistic thinking. We think "Here" is life and "There" is death. "Here" is suffering and "There" is nirvana. But the Zen masters tell us that form is emptiness, and emptiness is form.

The Hsin Hsin Ming puts it perfectly: "The Great Way is not difficult for those who have no preferences... Make the smallest distinction, however, and you are as far from it as heaven is from earth.".

When we create a "Passage" in our minds, we create fear. We create a "Before" and an "After." But the spiritual reality is that there is no gate to crash through. The gate is "Gateless." You are already on the other side. You are already held in the Eternal Now. The anxiety you feel about death is simply the friction of your preferences rubbing against reality. You want to stay here, in this form, forever. But the arrow must fly.

The Review of Attachments

Now, the Sutra mentions a "judgment"—an "unsparing review of your days." This terrifies us. We imagine a courtroom. But look closely at what the text says: "The Light you meet is not a courtroom judge, but the reflection of your own True Nature."

The only thing that judges you is the Truth of who you became. And the criterion is not "Did you follow the rules?" but "Did you grip the world, or did you hold it loosely?"

This is a profound shift. We usually think of sin as breaking a law. But in this vision, "sin" is simply the state of being stuck. It is the refusal to flow.

Imagine a child holding a handful of sand. If they clench their fist tight to keep the sand, it squeezes out through their fingers. If they open their hand flat, the sand rests there. The judgment is simply the Light asking, "Why is your fist so tight? What were you afraid of losing?"

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.". Why? Because the poor in spirit have empty hands. They aren't carrying heavy bags of "being right" or "being successful." They are light enough to float.

Die Before You Die: A Sufi Reflection

This leads us to our second neighbor in wisdom: the mystical tradition of Islam, specifically Sufism.

There is a famous Hadith often cited by the Sufis: "Die before you die."

It sounds grim, doesn't it? But it is the secret to joy. To "die before you die" means to let go of your ego, your desperate need for control, and your attachments while you are still alive.

If you wait until your physical death to let go of your possessions, your grudges, and your status, it will be ripped from you painfully. That is the "hell" the Sutra speaks of—"If you hold to guilt, you create your own hell." Hell is just the burning friction of holding onto something that God is trying to pull away.

But if you "die" now—if you surrender your need to be the center of the universe, if you forgive your enemy, if you give away your wealth—then when physical death comes, it is a non-event. You have already packed your bags. You have already crossed the river.

The Sutra says: "To die is to exhale the preference for living; to live is to inhale the acceptance of dying." This is the rhythm of the Sufi dervish, spinning with one hand up to receive grace and one hand down to ground it, holding onto nothing, letting the world spin around the empty center of the heart.

Living "Circa" the Truth

So, how do we live this? We live "Circa."

I love this word. Circa. Around. Approximately.

We live in a culture of devastating precision. We want the exact GPS coordinates of our destiny. We want to know exactly how many calories to eat, exactly how much money we need to retire, exactly what the theology of the afterlife is.

But the Spirit is not a laser beam; it is a fragrance. It wafts.

The Sutra says: "Perfection is not a stiff corpse, but a living reed that bends."

Think about how much energy you waste trying to get it "right." You try to pray the perfect prayer. You try to be the perfect parent. You try to have the perfect political opinion. It is exhausting! And it makes you rigid.

To live "Circa" means to relax into the "approximate." It means saying, "I don't know exactly where God is, but I'm in the neighborhood." It means saying, "I'm not perfect, but I'm showing up."

"The Great Way is... not easy, not difficult... Clinging, they go too far, even an attachment to enlightenment is to go astray.".

Even trying too hard to be spiritual is a trap. Just be. Be the salt. Salt doesn't try to be salty; it just is. Even if the flavor is faint, it’s enough.

The News of the World: A Crisis of Borders

Now, I want to bring this down to the ground. We cannot speak of "Passages" and "Crossings" without looking at the world around us this very week.

We are living through a massive, global crisis of displacement. Whether we look at the headlines involving refugees seeking safety, or the economic shifts that are displacing workers through technology, or the deep political divides that are displacing us from our neighbors—the defining "News Event" of our time is that no one feels at home.

We are seeing a world obsessed with hardening borders. Walls are going up—literal walls of concrete and steel, and digital walls of algorithms that separate "us" from "them." We are terrified of the "Other" crossing over into our space.

Why? Because we are clinging. We are clutching our national identities, our economic comfort, and our cultural "rightness" with white-knuckled fists. We are terrified that if we open the hand, we will lose everything.

But the spiritual law is relentless: What you hoard, you lose. What you give, you keep.

If we apply the "Sutra of the Approaching Hour" to this crisis, the message is sharp. The more we fortify our borders—both national and personal—the more fearful we become. The "Hell" we are creating on earth is a direct result of our inability to see the "Other" as our own True Nature.

"The arising of other gives rise to self; giving rise to self generates other. Know these seeming two facets as one Emptiness.".

The refugee at the border is not a threat to your life; they are a mirror of your life. They are you, stripped of the illusion of stability. To reject them is to reject the part of yourself that is vulnerable, the part of you that is "Circa"—wandering, seeking, and in need of grace.

The Leap Inward

So, what do we do? Do we just give up and do nothing?

No. We leap.

But as the Sutra says, "the leap is not upward, but inward."

We stop waiting for the world to stabilize. It won't. The world of form is samsara—it is a wheel that never stops turning. If you wait for the news to get better before you find peace, you will wait forever.

You must find the "narrow gate" right now. And where is it? It is in the space between your thoughts. It is in the silence between your heartbeats.

"Enter by the narrow gate... for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction.". The "broad way" is the way of distraction. It is the scrolling feed. It is the outrage cycle. It is the easy path of blaming others for your pain.

The "narrow gate" is the hard, quiet work of sitting still, looking at your own fear of death, looking at your own clenched fist, and slowly, gently, opening it.

Conclusion: The Final Rest

My friends, the hour is always approaching. We are all terminal. This is not bad news; it is the truth that makes the colors of life vivid.

So, when your time comes—whether it is the end of a job, the end of a marriage, or the end of this breath—do not disfigure your face with worry. Do not panic that you haven't finished your "To Do" list.

Be like the lilies. "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin.".

They don't worry about whether they are blooming correctly. They just bloom. And when winter comes, they bow down and return to the root.

You are not passing away into nothingness. You are returning to the Origin. You are going home to the place you never actually left.

So, loosen your grip. Unclench your jaw. Drop the scorecard. You are safe. You are loved. And you are already here.

Amen.