Looking out across the way, noticing the strokes with which nature paints the scene before my eyes, I am captivated. The variations of color and light both hold their own and come together. A symphony embracing one another, yet at the same time providing the contrast that makes it fully come alive. Ripples in the sky, and ripples down below. With all that is going on, it’s interesting how all these differences join to form a work of beauty, instead of tearing at each other, or falling all apart.
For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit. – 1 Cor 12:13
Looking into the world of nature, it can be very easy to come across what makes for a beautiful picture. Whether one’s eye is caught by a single object or multiple ones combining to create a scene that captivates and captures attention, it all starts with posture.
The picture below was taken at the base of a road on the way back down, after having traveled it to the top of a mountain. The way that everything came together and seemed to fall into place in the moments we happened upon it, was rather striking. As we were returning from the summit on a sunny, gorgeous day, the sun was quickly overtaken by fast moving clouds, and as we drove, we moved in and out of brief periods of rain. However, once we reached the base, things looked much brighter. Then, not much further along, we entered the scene. It was like stepping into a painted landscape.
Again, everything—road, rock wall, water, building, sand, trees, and sky—seemed to come together, bringing out the best of what that day and time could offer, and it was perfect. Unity and peace within rising above and beyond turbulence. Not only a pretty sight or precious thought, but also at the heart of faith and faithfulness—the way in which one works, lives, and cooperates with the grace of God, who resides within us, and in whose image, we are all created.
What one carries or holds onto as they journey, quite literally, impacts everything—reception, perception, reaction, response, etc.
Brothers and sisters: I, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace: one body and one Spirit, as you were also called to the one hope of your call; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. – Eph 4:1-6
Stepping out and looking up, the night time sky awakens me. Alongside the darkness, the clouds, visible above and behind the tree tops, create a contrast that draws me in. Between them and the sky that is speckled with the light of stars from far away, the scene is even more compelling. There are so many dimensions, and on this night, as opposed to one where the clouds leave no room for the stars, all seem to bring something to the picture in a way that works together and makes it whole.
So much of what’s good and honorable in the world, is not unlike this scene. That is, the parts not only brought together, but also taking care to make room at the table, and in our hearts, for each other. Coming back to the night time sky on this evening, taking in its different parts once more, I imagine each of them embodying, “Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will” (Psalm 40). For although we are different, we are very much the same. And, our well-being and the picture that we make is collective—always tied together.
As Martin Luther King, Jr. Day approaches, thank you Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. for standing up and speaking out, for your words and the actions that flowed with them, and most of all, for the spirit with which you shared them with the world.
“In a real sense all life is inter-related. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be… This is the inter-related structure of reality.” – Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Each year as Christmas approaches, I fondly recall a childhood ritual of time spent with a couple of my siblings, huddled around a department store’s holiday edition catalog. The three of us would look at what seemed like endless pages of different games and toys, dreaming of what it would be like to call them our own. At the same time though, we knew that was not going to happen.
Still, each year, we would come together, at the kitchen table or lying on our stomachs on the rug in the family room, captivated by the pictures and descriptions. We were all on, or around, the same page, and not a page was turned until all three of us were ready to move on. Of course, sometimes, we would negotiate and come back to particular page or skip ahead to a different section, but always, we stayed together.
It’s interesting what sharing, can bring to a situation. Although my older sister, younger brother, and I were frequently drawn to different games or toys, we were consistently drawn together. Over the years, the experience of sharing our time with each other as well as our excitement and interest… hopes and dreams, made it seem like anything was possible in the sacred space we shared.
This year, in a pandemic ridden world, where space is better not shared, perhaps another kind of invitation lies in waiting—a bridge of sorts. Maybe a chance to find that which has been overlooked, or what might otherwise be lost. An opportunity to remember or to see more than what we think we know.
As a child looking at those pages of games and toys, I thought it was the catalog that brought such great excitement. However, while it was intriguing back then, now I understand it differently. So often, time and distance can bring perspective in a way that reveals truth or deeper understanding of any matter.
On the 3rd Sunday of Advent, a time of waiting and reflecting, we read in the Gospel according to John that John the Baptist said, “…there is one among you whom you do not recognize…” (John 1:26-27), to the priests and Levites sent to question him. He was speaking of Jesus. Yet, we know that even today, there are moments where each of us can say to ourselves, “there is one among you whom you do not recognize.” Whether it is a person, place, or thing, when we think of it, how do we speak of, and to, Jesus?
A man named John was sent from God. He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to testify to the light.
And this is the testimony of John. When the Jews from Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to him to ask him, “Who are you?” He admitted and did not deny it, but admitted, “I am not the Christ.” So they asked him, “What are you then? Are you Elijah?” And he said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” He answered, “No.” So they said to him, “Who are you, so we can give an answer to those who sent us? What do you have to say for yourself?” He said: “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert, ‘make straight the way of the Lord,’” as Isaiah the prophet said.” Some Pharisees were also sent. They asked him, “Why then do you baptize if you are not the Christ or Elijah or the Prophet?” John answered them, “I baptize with water; but there is one among you whom you do not recognize, the one who is coming after me, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie.” This happened in Bethany across the Jordan, where John was baptizing. – John 1:6-8, 19-28
On a beautiful November day, unexpected warmth saturates the air alongside the noise of rustling leaves, as they are gathered and removed from around the yard. While it is far more idyllic to sit in a much quieter way, with an image… a nearby scene that captures fall inching its way to winter, there is work to be done.
Taking a breath and looking at the leaves, they spread across the lawn, front, side, and back. Another breath, then, at last, the process begins a mess. Making something out of what appears to be nothing or perhaps better said, gathering what is separate and bringing it together. What starts as commotion with each swing of the rake, gradually, slowly turns around. Still leaves… still motion… but nestled now in the stillness of devotion.
A great reminder, the dreams for which one hopes do not fade away. Though the pursuit of them may be on pause, it is often in our patient seeking, Wisdom makes her way, work increases, and True desires deepen.
“Respect your ideals. Dare to dream, but be not an idle dreamer. Dare to do what you dream. Search your heart to know what you most desire to do; then do it, for you can become, by your perseverance, what you long to be.” – Samuel Silas Curry
With all the volatility throughout the world right now, it can be difficult to wade through differences of opinion and the debates, sometimes heated, that come from them. Socrates said, “True wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us.”
Oftentimes, in situations that engender competing factions, the best way to proceed is by laying aside one’s own point of view, at least temporarily, and trying to understand the experience of others.
Earlier this week, I received an email that contained statistics that were not the most recent statistics available. However, beyond the numbers, the message contained some examples of social injustice in areas that I am not sure I had previously considered. What shined through loud and clear was that it can be easy to become isolated or insulated from the experience of others. More often than not, there is a greater tendency to try to find the place where one fits in, and then, to comfortably live and stay there. Inevitably, by doing so, diversity and openness become lost more easily, and learning lessens. The voices and the experience of others… those on the edges or completely outside of the place where we have come to reside, become invisible or simply “not my experience,” so they may be dismissed, without much consideration.
This is the crux of the matter… of many matters. When there is little or no room for consideration, or an unwillingness to separate from what is comfortable, preferred, presumed, or seen as “known,” there is also usually little or no room for true dialogue or change—something more than superficial. Without open and honest listening and sharing, without coming together, how can we possibly come to understand?
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you. – 2 Cor 13:13
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