Sebi-Arus by Wayne Arnason. December 18, 2011

The reason for our Immersion and our pilgrimage to Konya with the group from Starr King School was Sebi-Arus (pronounced Shebi-a-Roos), the anniversary of Mevlana Rumi's passing, which the Sufis describe as his "wedding day with God".

We celebrated the day in three stages. in the morning, we practiced our turning. Thjs week we have had several hours of lessons and practice time in the Sema ritual of the whirling dervishes. A few of us are now able to turn for a few minutes in a relaxed and graceful way without dizziness.

After lunch, we went two hours early to the tomb of Mevlana Rumi for the 4 pm service of recitation in his honor. We were prepared for a crush of people seeking to be in Mevlana's presence on this holy day, either to pass by the tomb and museum or to remain inside for the service. It was not a place for those uncomfortable in crowds! Those of us who have attended very crowded general-seating rock concerts had to use all the survival skills we learned at those events to crowd our way into the tomb.

People were generally polite and as graceful as possible in an uncomfortable situation. Ibrahim Baba led the way in. His stature ( and height) means that he remains visible as people defer to him and he moves ahead more quickly than we do. Soon our group is spread out. Some of us find places to sit or stand near Baba, and others are elsewhere jn the tomb and museum.

During our two hour wait, we sat in meditation, read Rumi's poetry aloud, and interacted with those around us. Kathleen had a particularly vivid experience that she wanted to recount:

"Once inside the tomb, the sounds of the ney (a flute like instrument) were piped in; a lovely haunting melody that blended with the low murmur of the crowd. I started rocking back and forth to the music. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, had no feelings that I could identify, when suddenly, I found myself weeping. Not just sniffling, but tears rolling out of my eyes, and dripping on the ground. Rather than try to hold them back, I just let them come. I wept for what seemed like a long time, when the man standing beside me, who was the translator for a sheykh who spoke at a previous zikkr, said: "tears mean that that you are accepted here..." in other words, he was saying that whoever sheds tears at the Mevlani wedding night is a gift to Mevlana (Rumi) and that the gift has been accepted. I had not anticipated such an emotional response; nor had I remember feeling so moved before a service had actually begun!!

In the Sufi tradition, tears are a way for the heart to be cracked open, like a cardamon seed, in order to release it's fragrance and essence. The power of the presence of all those pilgrims, standing patiently side by side to pay homage to Rumi was intensely moving.

Wayne continues: After the recitation service, we made our way out slowly, partly because of the crowd and partly because people recognize Ibrahim Baba as a sheykh, and want to receive a blessing or ask for a photograph with him. He moves graciously through this spiritual rock star attention unfamiliar to religious leaders in America.

The third stage of our Shebi-Arus celebration was our final evening of Zikr in Konya. This one started at 8 pm and continued until 4 AM, with peak attendance and a very very crowded room at about 10. We left around midnight, after two rounds of singing, chanting, reciting, praying and dancing in various degrees of intensity.

Walking home to our hotel, we both agreed, it was a wedding we would never forget!

Location:Konya, Turkey

Forty Days by Kathleen Rolenz December 17, 2011

Forty Days by Kathleen Rolenz December 17, 2011




We visited the Atesbaz Veli mosque near Lake Beyseyhir. This 700 year old mosque is noted for it's construction, primarily made of beautiful cedar wood beams and intricate wood carvings at the top, a rare thing to see in Turkey. We were given a tour and explanation of the mosque's beautiful and intricate mitzrah and calligraphy by the mosque's imam.





Then, a surprise! The imam took us to the corner of the mosque, lifted up the carpet and a door, which led down to a prayer area underneath the floor of the mosque. "This is where those who are ready for chilehaney, a spiritual retreat. They do not leave the mosque for the forty days of Ramadan. They have forty olives placed before them, and each day they break the fast with one olive a day. They do not sleep lying down; they have a cane under their chins so they must sleep in a seated position. When the cane falls, they must wake up and begin again."

This rite of passage for a devoted dervish monastic impressed us deeply and scared us at the same time. Solitary retreat is something both Wayne and I have dabbled in, but not explored very deeply in either the Christian or Buddhist traditions. The depth of spiritual practice in the near and middle east among both monastics and lay people is something that we will carry with us.

Forty days ago we were in Hebron, in the West Bank, a city of holy sites and intense conflict about who controls them and who can live near them. It seems like so long ago. Every day of this sabbatical journey has brought so much rich experience. Could forty days alone, just me and my mind and my prayers, possibly be even more valuable to my spirit?

Location:Lake Beyseyhir, Turkey

Zikr by Kathleen Rolenz. December 15, 2011

Every evening the pilgrims of Starr King have participated in Zikr, led by Baba Ibrahim Farajaje, his son Issa, and the worship leaders and musicians who have been an integral part of the immersion experience. The Zikr is a liturgical experience that is both structured and free form; framed by certain phrases and prayers in Arabic, but allowing for participation from the gathered. Last night, the Zikr began by singing Ma Tovu, which was a song created by the Starr King Pilgrims, and we quickly moved into chanting, prayers and singing. Within about the first half hour, a young man rose to his feet, bowed to ask permission of the sheik (spiritual leader) and then, began to whirl. Earlier that day we had a lesson in how dervishes turn. We first began with the feet, and then gradually added the arms : one palm up to receive God and one down pointed towards the earth, and in this way, heaven and earth are brought together in the dervish's whirling. As the rhythm began growing in intensity, so did the man's whirling.


Then, we were joined by three drummers, who raised the energy of the Zikr to a new level. This time, Tarif, the teacher who that morning had patiently endured our clumsy attempts to turn, rose. He was dressed in the costume of the dervish; a tall felt hat symbolizing one's headstone; the long white skirt that represents one's shroud. the spiritual practice of Sema points to the death of the self and union with God. He too bowed and asked permission of the sheik to turn. The drumming was ecstatic , resounding both with the pulse in our veins and the ever present beat of our hearts. Tarif began to turn, slowly at first, his long white skirt fanning out around him. Then, his arms unfolded like a flower, and the whirling became so fast that he became a blur. Everything came together in that moment; the music, chanting, singing, prayers and whirling dervishes.

My rational mind wanted to step back and analyze the experience; but another part just wanted to simply relax and enjoy the moment of being swept up in a rhythms of the drumming and chanting. We left the Zikr about midnight, just as it had begun to wind down; feeling tired and exhilarated all at the same time. Each night is a unique and unforgettable experience; one steeped in devotional practice instead of academic study of Sufism.

We are told that each night builds in intensity as we approach December 17, Sebis-Arus, the climactic day of this pilgrimage week, the day that Mevlana Rumi went to union with God in death. We can hardly wait.

Location:Konya, Turkey

Zen and Sufi Practice Traditions by Wayne Arnason December 17, 2011

Ibrahim Baba asked me if I could do some writing about any perceptions I have about common elements in Zen Buddhist and Sufi spiritual practices. My Zen experience is primarily within the Soto Zen lineage, so these reflections aren't informed by much Vajrayana (Tibetan) experience. I believe that the most obvious common elements I observe have less to do with the particular Buddhist or Sufi lineages that I have experienced, and more to do with a symmetry in spiritual practices among lineage-based religious communities, both monastic and lay.

Scholars of religious practice have long noted that monastics and mystics among the world's religions have much more in common than the average believer in these faiths would perceive. Zen and Sufi theologies both point towards the death of the ego as a gateway to enlightenment or union with God. The Sufis use the word "nafs" to describe the "desires" that Zen practitioners engage with non-attachment. There are many more examples of common philosophical and theological insights that Sufism and Buddhism share, and wiser teachers than I have published accessible books about them.

For purposes of this blog, let me name briefly some of the common structural, rather than theological, aspects of Zen and Sufism that are immediately evident:

1) Both are lineage traditions, with teaching authority passed down from individual empowered and authorized teachers (roshi or shaykh) to their students. How often a particular teacher exercises that authority and the criteria used for transmitting authority to teach are up to each teacher. The roshi's or shaykh's authority is unquestioned within the community that has gathered around them as long as this teacher exemplifies and embodies sound spiritual practice.

2) Because authority is diffused, tensions can arise about how various lineages have exercised the authority to empower teachers, and diverse lineages can have different practices and standards.

3) Liturgical practices of the two traditions both involve recitation from the scriptures and sacred poems, in chant forms.

4) Embodied practice is preferred as a gateway over academic study in both traditions. Although the practice of Sema, "turning", is unique to Mevlevi Sufism, it is interesting to remember that Zen meditation practice includes a period of " kinhin" or "walking meditation", five to ten minutes of slow and normal-pace walking in a circle while maintaining the meditative practice.

5) A unique training and teaching role for monastics in both the Sufi and Zen traditions in that of the Cook. The metaphors of food preparation are commonly used in teaching stories.

6) Stories are a common teaching vehicle in both traditions, and both tell teaching stories describing moments of enlightenment, when a student first "woke up".

7) Both traditions invite longer solitary retreat times as a formational discipline within a lifetime of spiritual practice.

8) Despite the value placed on solitary retreat, the support and shared practice of the community of students is essential.

9) Both Zen and Sufism remain minority mystical traditions within the world community of Buddhism and Islam, viewed with some suspicion and sometimes even hostility by many believers.

Location:Konya, Turkey

Mother's Day! By Wayne Arnason December 14, 2011

It's still December in Konya but the Rumi Immersion created a different kind of Mother's Day by traveling yesterday to two sites outside the city that honor the feminine principle in religion, and jn Sufism in particular. The first was Catal-Huyuk, the archaeological dig first uncovered in the early sixties where some of the earliest evidence of human community and religious practice was discovered. This included statues of the Goddess that led to speculation that these Neolithic communities which pre- date Western Civilization's written history may have worshipped the feminine principle and been matriarchal in structure.


The visit to this site completed a circle in our travels. On November 27, Kathleen wrote a blog reflection on seeing the statues from this site in the Ankara Museum so it was exciting to see the place where they were found.

Our second visit completed another circle. We went to Karama to pay our respects at the tomb where Mevlana's mother and many other family members and descendants are buried. This city is where Mevlana's family first lived when they arrived in Anatolia. The mosque was beautiful and the prayers offered there were deep.

We travel with two young children in our group, and outside the mosque after the visit, two local women who were meeting their husbands and children at this location started talking with the mothers in our group. Lively conversation ensued and photographs were taken. Mothers can always find a bond across whatever cultural or language divisions may separate them.

Location:Konya, Turkey

Turning by Wayne Arnason December 13, 2011

Last night we attended the Sema at the Cultural Center in Konya. Sema is the ceremony and spiritual practice known in the West as the "whirling dervishes". Mevlana Rumi taught the practice in the 13th century and it has remained important in his school of Sufism. It has also been "adopted" by the current Turkish government as a cultural treasure and tourist attraction!

If you are a tourist in Turkey, you can find "performances" of Sema to attend in larger cities, much like the flamenco performances in Spain. In Konya, the government built a 4000 seat auditorium designed primarily for Sema, and pays an honorarium to the ceremony participants. During this week of the pilgrimage, there are two ceremonies each day all week! Our teachers here have mixed feelings about this attention given to Sema. On the one hand, it preserves and makes accessible this practice to a wider audience and draws spiritual seekers to investigate more about Mevlana and Sufism. On the other hand, the ceremonies are offered with little interpretation of the symbolism and spiritual meaning.

While we were moved and impressed by the beauty of the Sema performance, we were acutely aware that spiritual practice is not a spectator sport! While the meditative practice of ritual turning in a small area of space as a way of expressing love for and experiencing the divine is not an easily accessible practice, its most important meaning arises from doing it, not from reading about it or watching it.

Everything in this world is turning, and how we turn, towards truth, towards God, towards daily attention to what us highest and holiest in our lives, makes all the difference in how our life in the world turns out.

Location:Konya, Turkey

The Heart of Sufism

One of the expectations of a dervish is to be of service. As I entered the kitchen at the Dervish Brothers guest house, I asked the hostess if there was anything I could do. Aiesha said "You are the fourth person who asked me if she could help, and I said no before, but something makes me say yes." So, she sat me down in front of a pile of what looked like weeds. She picked up the end of a bunch of spinach, cut off the white stalk, and then cut it in half, putting the gritty remains in one pile and the other parts in the "keep" pile. She handed me a knife and I set to work.

About ten minutes later she returned to the kitchen, looked at my "discard pile" and told me I had cut off and kept the wrong parts!! "Here, taste this," she said, handing me the end of the spinach greens. "This is the heart and it's very sweet."

I have cut up spinach greens much of my life, but I never even knew that it had a heart. I had continued to cut out the heart and put it in the discard pile, when in truth it was the best part.

Aeisha continued to show me how to access the heart, and said: "In Turkish cooking, we use everything. We respect all parts of the plant. In Sufi practice, we try to find the heart in everything; but you must know what it is you are looking for, and you must know how to access it." I had to go back into the bag of dirt and grit covered greens to find the hearts of the spinach that I had thrown out.

Ibrahim Baba said that sometimes a Sufi may be talking about something seemingly unrelated to "spiritual conversations." He said that sometimes students will be disappointed to hear a Sufi talk about a mundane task, yet, the novice dervish will soon realize that the simplest tasks can contain the lesson for the day.

I surely received my lesson for the day, looking--and finding -- the heart of Sufism practice in a pile of spinach greens.

Location:Konya, Turkey