The Holy Approximately: Living in the Mist of Mercy

Peace be with you—or, should I say, circa with you.

We are gathered here on the second day of a new year. The calendars are fresh, the resolutions are written in ink that hasn’t yet dried, and the gym memberships are, for the moment, active. You are looking for direction. You want a map. You want coordinates. You want to know exactly where you stand with God, with your neighbor, and with your bank account.

But I have not come to give you a map. I have come to hand you a fog.

We just heard the reading of The Circa Scroll of the Softened Gaze. It says that the sayings of the Truth are "not walls to build, but mists to breathe". This terrifies you, doesn't it? The ego hates mist. The ego wants a wall. It wants to say, "I am here, you are there. I am right, you are wrong. This is holy, that is profane."

But the Hsin Hsin Ming, that great poem of the Perfect Mind, tells us the secret: "The Great Way is not difficult for those who have no preferences". It reminds us that if you "make the smallest distinction, however, and you are as far from it as heaven is from earth".

Today, I want to talk about the spiritual power of "Circa"—the holy approximately.

I. The Idol of the Sharp Edge

We live in a world of high-definition suffering. We believe that if we can just define our problems sharply enough, we can solve them. We think that "death dwells in the rigid definition", and yet we spend our whole lives building coffins made of words.

You say, "I am a success" or "I am a failure." "I am a liberal" or "I am a conservative." "I am spiritual" or "I am lost."

Stop it. "Do not search for the truth; only cease to cherish opinions".

When the Circa Scroll says, "When you stop distinguishing, you are not dead; you are everywhere", it is echoing the lilies of the field. Remember them? "They neither toil nor spin". They do not agonize over whether they are roses or tulips. They do not hold "opinions for or against" the sun. They simply are. And I tell you, even Solomon in all his high-definition glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Religious Reflection I: The Tao of the Uncarved Block

This brings us to our first neighbor in wisdom: Taoism. In the Tao Te Ching, there is a concept called Pu, the "Uncarved Block." It is the state of wood before it is cut into a tool or a statue. It is potential. It is wholeness. The Taoists teach that when you name a thing, you divide it. When you carve the block, you lose the forest.

The Taoist sage Lao Tzu taught that "The Way that can be told is not the eternal Way." This sounds like our scroll, does it not? "Words never could, can not now, and never will describe the Way". However, where the Taoist seeks to flow with the natural order—like water seeking the lowest place—I call you to flow with the inner order, the Kingdom of Heaven within. The Taoist floats in the river of nature; the Zennist floats in the river of the Father's love. But both agree: if you fight the current, you drown. You must "let go of longing and aversion" to stay afloat.

II. The Troubled Seeker and the Plank

The scroll tells us: "Let him who seeks continue seeking... When he finds, he will become troubled".

Why troubled? Because "to find the One, you must lose your preferences". We love our preferences. We cuddle them at night. We love to hate our enemies. It feels good, doesn't it? To have a clear enemy? It makes you feel solid.

But I told you in the Sermon: "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, love your enemies". Why? Not just to be "nice." But because "the arising of other gives rise to self". If you have an enemy, you are trapped in a duel. You are stuck in the illusion of two. When you love them, the wall collapses. You "rule over the All" because there is no one left to fight.

This is the "plank in your own eye". The plank is not just a sin; the plank is your certainty. The plank is your belief that you know how the world ought to be. "The more you think about it, the further you are from the truth". Remove the plank of certainty, and you will see the speck in your brother's eye is just a reflection of your own fear.

Religious Reflection II: The Sufi Drunkenness

Let us look to our second neighbor: Sufism, the mystical heart of Islam. The great Sufi poets, like Rumi and Hafiz, speak often of being "drunk" or "bewildered" by the Beloved (God). They do not seek a sober, systematic theology; they seek an annihilation of the self in the presence of the Divine. The Sufi might say, "Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment." This is the state of being "astonished" mentioned in our scroll. However, while the Sufi often uses the language of passionate, fiery longing to bridge the gap between lover and Beloved, the Zennist path I offer you is cooler, clearer. "Let go of longing and aversion". We do not need to burn for God, for we are not separate from God. You do not burn to be yourself; you just are. The Sufi dances to find the Beloved; the Zennist sits still and realizes the Beloved is the floor beneath his feet. "Not here, not there—but everywhere always right before your eyes".

III. The Astonishment of the Now

The scroll concludes with a promise: "When they are troubled, and the walls of the self fall down, they will be astonished".

What is this astonishment? It is the realization that "one instant is eternity". It is the realization that you don't have to "become" anything. You are already there. "The Great Way is all-embracing, not easy, not difficult".

We worry so much about "tomorrow." "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things". When you live in the "Circa," you live in the eternal Now. You are not "at" the destination; you are the path itself.

The News Event: The Anxiety of the Turning Page

Now, look at where we stand. It is the first week of a new year. The Big News Event right now isn't a single headline; it is the collective, global inhalation of anxiety that happens every January. Look at the news feeds. Every analyst is predicting the economy of 2026. Every political pundit is forecasting the conflicts of the coming months. The world is obsessed with knowing what comes next. The "news" this week is the desperate human attempt to control the future.

We see reports of instability—perhaps in the markets, perhaps in the climate—and we tighten our grip. We make lists. We buy insurance. We build bunkers of "rightness."

Here is your practical application: This week, I want you to practice The Fast of Opinion. When you see a headline that makes you angry, or fearful, or righteous—pause. Do not click. Do not comment. Do not "share" to validate your tribe. Instead, step back into the mist. Say to yourself, "I see this happening. It is part of the movement of the world. But I will not build a wall of 'like' or 'dislike' around it." "Gain and loss, right and wrong, abandon all such thoughts at once".

For just one week, stop trying to fix the world with your judgment. "Judge not, that you be not judged". Instead, look at the chaos of the New Year and float. Be the cork in the ocean. The ocean is wild, yes. The waves of 2026 will be high. But the cork does not fight the wave; it rides it. "Be in harmony with the Way and you will be free of disturbances".

Conclusion: You Are Already Home

My friends, "Circa" is not about being lazy. It is about being humble. It is the humility to say, "I do not know the full picture, but I know the Father." It is the grace to say, "I am a work in progress, and that is the only way to be alive."

So, stop standing at the door knocking frantically. "You are already inside the house". The door was never locked. The door was a thought. Drop the thought. Enter the mist. And find that the mist is the breath of God.

Amen. Approximately.