As we trudge through November, moving steadily toward the end of what has been a tumultuous, pandemic ridden year, we enter into the season of Advent, a time of waiting and watching. What will come of this year? At a time when many of the measures of society appear to be unsettled or at all-time lows, what will be birthed? And, what will be unearthed in the weeks and months that lay ahead?
So much of this past year has turned into waiting and watching across a wide variety of areas (health, employment, housing, food security, finances, education, politics, etc.). Overall, at points along the way, waiting and watching have become like a couple of guests whose stay, long past welcome, has become exhausting.
Stretched beyond thin though, is often the best or most appropriate time to stay strong, listen, and hold on. For it is the precise time in which we are called to remain hopeful and to remember, it is not what is on the outside that matters most, but rather that which comes from within.
Jesus said to his disciples: “Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come. It is like a man traveling abroad. He leaves home and places his servants in charge, each with his own work, and orders the gatekeeper to be on the watch. Watch, therefore; you do not know when the Lord of the house is coming, whether in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning. May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to all: ‘Watch!’” – Mark 13:33-37
Today is November 21, 2020. It is the 326th day of the year and by day’s end we will be 88.8% of the way toward 2021. For now though, we’re stuck, so to speak, in a leap year. And boy, what a leap it has been!
Looking at the happenings around the world, it seems as if gravity has lost its grip. Collisions are abound! And often with it, sensibility and all that used to be reliable in at least some way, has all but disappeared. These days, unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic is raging, but also unfortunately, it is not the only thing raging.
At a time when it can be easy to become bogged down by all that seems wrong in the world, where I live, we will be celebrating Thanksgiving this coming Thursday. However, prior to that, tomorrow is the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.
How different the world could be, if He were all the rage!
Imagine, words and actions that go beyond the current “rule” of one. Imagine, words and actions that are all about the One, and only One—God.
Thankfully, we literally have the best example ever. So in these strange days that seem to keep getting stranger, look to the Word that is timeless. Look and see the Good Shepherd, the One who not only makes claims, but also backs them up, and simply shows us, one and all, the Way.
When we focus on doing the good we can do, the world, no matter how chaotic it may seem, becomes a better, brighter place, one person at a time.
Jesus said to his disciples: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’ And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.’ Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’ Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’ He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’ And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.” – Matthew 25:31-46
Feeling hopeful, I am lifted up by the soothing breeze, and welcomed by the warmth of the sun. I am drawn to the light stretching out from it, as if reaching out to everyone and all around the globe. Still, I wait, as many do. So much of life these days seems to be more about waiting, and then waiting even more. I can’t help but think, this much waiting is such a tall order, compared to the short and quick of yesteryear.
Yet, day in and day out, I wait. We all wait. Maybe we’ve been waiting all along. Maybe we wait because we’ve gotten it all wrong.
Then there’s also the companion of waiting. As each moment in waiting silently builds upon the next, some grow closer together and others drift further apart. Yet, despite the weight of waiting, and the rush against the quiet, when willing, the Light above connects us to the Breath that’s deep within.
One with one another. Created in God’s image. One with one and all. The cry of God is deafening, when will we heed the call?
“Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.” – John 15:4
Walking along a path in a local town forest, I stop as I approach a swampy stretch and see a beautiful mix of colors on the land across the way. The trees and brush on either side in front of me seem to provide a frame. Depending on the angle, or perhaps the time of day, or maybe even, the mood drifting through the air, they are a welcome addition gradually drawing me in to the beauty just beyond. Or, are they a distraction… a tangled mess standing in the way?
It’s interesting the way that so much in life seems to do with frames. Thinking literally of frames, I recall the first time I had to pick a frame for a pair of eyeglasses. I was 12 at the time, and desperately not wanting to need eyeglasses. But the fact was that I did need them.
So, after an eye exam and trying on a number of frames, different styles, colors, and types, I came upon “the one.” It was unmistakable within seconds of placing them on my face. From there, the transition was smooth; I could see clearly. Since that time, I have gone through a number of frames, of different styles, colors, and types, throughout the years. And, in all that time, the single most important thing about my glasses has been, not the frame, but the lenses. Without them, everything is blurry.
When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a scholar of the law tested him by asking, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.”
John Muir shared the thought that in every walk with nature, one receives far more than one seeks. Pausing to look at some of the changing leaves and noticing the contrast between them and those already on the ground, I came across another scene. A chipmunk, also pausing, long enough to possibly be considered a companion in an otherwise seemingly empty stretch of woods. A brief, but amusing and uplifting experience, perhaps captured best, for both creatures on this day, in the words of another naturalist, Henry David Thoreau, who wrote, “I took a walk in the woods and came out taller than the trees.”
Reading chapter 22 in the Gospel according to Matthew, the section that contains verses 15-22 starts with, “Then the Pharisees went off and plotted…” The words and the image they conjure, are such a stark contrast to that of my experience in nature, earlier in the day. What a difference a spirit of inclusion, acceptance, respect, and mutual existence might have made back then. What a difference it might make now.
Nature is all around us, and we are part of it. Yet, all this time gone by, still, we fight it. All these years later, still, we resist joining together. Perhaps, one by one, we might learn to be companions to each other, and the plotting will end. Then, maybe… we might see, how foolish we have been.
If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence, we could rise up rooted like trees. – Rainer Maria Rilke
The Pharisees went off and plotted how they might entrap Jesus in speech. They sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. And you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion, for you do not regard a person’s status. Tell us, then, what is your opinion: Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” Knowing their malice, Jesus said, “Why are you testing me, you hypocrites? Show me the coin that pays the census tax.” Then they handed him the Roman coin. He said to them, “Whose image is this and whose inscription?” They replied, “Caesar’s.” At that he said to them, “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” – Matthew 22:15-22
Each time I have had the opportunity to travel west through New York, coming across the Erie Canalway National Heritage Corridor brings me back decades to being a young student, and a favorite social studies lesson that included an explanation of how canals work. I recall listening with great interest about the way that locks and channels along the way, made it possible for canals to bridge the gap where differences of altitude were previously an obstacle.
A few days ago, I attended a virtual meeting featuring two speakers who were former governors of different political affiliations. The topic they discussed was the importance of public service. Both emphasized that in their experience, engaging on a personal level with a wide array of people was critical, and how a lack of openness to each other and ongoing dialogue leads to polarization. In other words, when you get to know people and learn about their lives, you connect in a way that lends itself to trying to work together with respect and courtesy, despite any differences of opinion. It reminded me of locks (or stops) and channels on the canal, working together to level things off, close the space between, and create a solution to overcome the difference that was otherwise impossible.
October 4th is the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, who was born into a very well to do family in the 12th century. He lived a lavish lifestyle in his younger years, but in his early 20s, he became disillusioned with the material life and all that came with it, and walked away from it. From that point he increasingly embraced a life of prayer from which his words and actions, through the grace of God, flowed. He is quoted as saying, “It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching.”
St. Francis’s life started in a very different space, more than comfortable, and far away from the experience of most. In the end though, he had closed the gap and found the greatest of riches, in doing so.
In current day times, there is too much distance between… too much space across so many arenas, and it is wreaking havoc. It can seem that there is not a lot that one can do. However, we can always decide what kind of channel we want to be, and we can always seek inspiration that helps us to shorten, or even close, the space between, and rise above the deficits that may be.
I have chosen you from the world, says the Lord, to go and bear fruit that will remain. – John 15:16
Peace Prayer of St. Francis Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.
As autumn makes her entrance, bursts of color begin to appear where once green was all around. Noticing an especially colorful section for so early in the season, I also see a gap within it… something missing… branches gone or somehow lost along the way.
As I look, I wonder. What could they have been? What would they have been? How the rest of the scenery is affected by their absence, also crosses my mind.
More than 204,000 people in the United States of America have died from COVID-19 thus far. That is approximately 21% of the 989,000 brothers and sisters across the world who have died from the virus. In the 196 recognized countries, almost 1 Million people have died since this pandemic began. While this is a statistic, it is far greater than a number(s).
What do we know about our brothers and sisters who have succumbed to this illness? The truth is, we know that they represented a wide range of age groups; came from various backgrounds, and political and religious affiliations; and studied or worked in all different kinds of occupations, to name just a few things. We also know, for sure, that they were not all advanced in age, nor did they all have pre-existing health conditions. Some, in fact, were closer to what would be considered the first half of life, physically fit, and/or not considered to be at a higher risk.
More important than all of that, they were fellow human beings. They were not just a number. They were living, breathing human beings, whose lives are not to be readily written off as dispensable to serve the interests of any one person or people in particular claiming to be “for” Life. Those who have died, loved, and were loved, and now, they are missed, leaving a gap… an emptiness, most especially for those who knew them best.
More than 204,000, and counting, brothers and sisters in the United States of America. More than 989,000, and counting, brothers and sisters worldwide. What could they have been? What would they have been? How is rest of the world affected by their absence?
Will we be driven further apart by lies, deception, and reckless disregard for life, or will we see what is truly going on, honor the lives of those who have died, and finally, come together?
Brothers and sisters: If there is any encouragement in Christ, any solace in love, any participation in the Spirit, any compassion and mercy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, with the same love, united in heart, thinking one thing. Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but also for those of others. Have in you the same attitude that is also in Christ Jesus. – Phil 2:1-5
Among memories of summers past, some of the hotter days rise to the surface. I remember moments, as a child, of hopping from one foot to the other, ooh-ing and ah-ing, while traversing the cement deck or driveway barefoot in route to the cooler green grass on the other side. Along the same lines, there was the trek from the parking lot at the beach, to the water. Whether we entered near a ramp or the stairs leading down to the beach, there was always a tricky section, of varying width and riddled with stones of various sizes or dry shifting sand, to cross before reaching the sand that was flat and smooth and then the water that was cool, and sometimes exhilarating, while at others more serene.
As I think back on these times, equally vivid are the pain and the payoff. There was no way to get from one side to the other without experiencing some level of being uncomfortable and some portion of less or much less than ideal. Yet, the promise of arriving on the other side, the hope of what it held, the lessons learned, and the experience waiting over there, made the effort worthwhile and far outweighed the negatives. It always does.
I do not pray for success, I ask for faithfulness. – St. Teresa of Calcutta
If today you hear God’s voice, harden not your hearts. – Psalm 95
As each wave comes ashore, along the way it covers all that is lower lying. Sometimes stacking up, it covers higher ground too. Then as it recedes, it pulls back toward the ocean all that is loose or unanchored, leaving a murky mixture of unsettled sand and water behind.
The movement is constant, the intensity waxing and waning, turning motion into commotion at times. Yet, standing in the water, witnessing and experiencing the ebb and flow, toes, then feet and more, under water, swaying… sometimes shifting for better footing, sometimes falling over, but ultimately finding the way, and keeping balance amid conditions of low visibility. So much like the days we are in, so much tossed about, up in the air, or sinking.
Still though, in between the waves, and even within, there is Hope. There are always moments of clarity where despite murky water all around, the anchor, tried and true, still holds, and the floor of sand with its assorted pebbles, rocks, and shells can be seen. For water that moves always comes clean. Always, always, refreshing the soul… renewing the heart.
May God enlighten the eyes of our hearts, that we may know what is the hope that belongs to our call. – Ephesians 1:18
The rays of light poured forth from the sun, extending toward the sea before carrying on and making their way across the water. Then from there, onto the shore, absorbing all in its path, catching passersby, and filling with gratitude, awe and inspiration, each willing soul along the way.
Sometimes getting from one side to the other is easier said than done. Today I found myself thinking about a day, a number of years ago, that I had to fly out of state to do a training session. It had been a productive day, moving right along with no hitches, but still it was a long day and at the end, I could not wait to be home again. However, the return trip was unexpectedly delayed. I remember checking in and boarding the flight, and feeling relieved as the plane began to depart from the gate. I was thinking that soon we would be in the air and less than a couple of hours later reaching the destination. All was good.
Continuing on, we began to move forward, and we kept moving, but without picking up speed. Then, the plane came to a halt, and remained halted on the tarmac for a number of hours. All passengers confined to their seats, I remember feeling more than a little upset as the time standing there, still, grew longer and longer.
Feeling so stuck, it was hard not to wonder, why? Why did the plane pull away from the gate, leaving one and all stranded, with nowhere to go? What is going on? Why are we waiting here? How long will it be?
Eventually, a far time from departing from the gate, the plane was able to take off. I found myself feeling so thankful along the way, upon landing and deplaning, and even more grateful, upon arriving home and climbing into my bed that late night/early morning. Thinking back on that trip, I remember at first feeling defeated in those long moments of waiting. The situation at hand invasive, threatening to wash away the prior, more pleasant happenings of the day. Then, as the time passed, sifting through various thoughts and feelings, somewhere in between, I remember letting go and arriving at a different destination—peace. All was good.
Back then, I did not understand. Since then, I have come to see. The tarmac, what seemed an empty wasteland, the place of being stuck or just waiting and waiting, held the same peace I was longing for at home. Yet, it was only able to reach me, and me it, in my letting go.
Most often what is waiting in between, the in between—Peace—is what gets one through.
Peace, always reaching out, longing to be held.
Peace, a treasure, seeking to be sought, but more than often not.
Peace, always near, always here, wandering care.
Peace, destined for each other, like the calling of a mother.
HopeThatFloats 
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