In each moment of challenge, there is the Light, bright and shining.
A couple of days ago, I learned of the passing of a friend. Eileen… the meaning of her name, “bright, shining one,” so true to life. Yet, not in a way that one might think upon reading the words “bright” and “shining,” as if showy or seeking the center of attention. No, far different, in a quiet, and much more powerful way, “bright, and shining one” as in a welcoming, steady glow. A ray of light—exuding warmth and love… a faith-filled, calming presence.
Sometimes, maybe more often than we know, there is the blessing of those around us who reflect life in all its essence—persevering… trusting that in each moment, whether it is challenging or not, there is the Light, bright and shining. Unassuming… not intruding… patiently… peacefully… simply, beautifully present.
Great is our Lord and mighty in power; to his wisdom there is no limit. The Lord sustains the lowly; the wicked he casts to the ground. – Psalm 147:6
During a time when much around the world seems off kilter and unbalanced, Advent waiting proceeds. And, as it does, a place where hearts come together shines bright. Spirit builds in the air, as angels sing, “Come! Come meet me at the giving tree!”
Tomorrow, December 6th, is the Feast of St. Nicholas. Often associated with gifts, and most especially charity, Nicholas and his designated day is one of the places where East meets West. Both Eastern and Western churches honor Nicholas.
So, in this year of many surprises, shocks, and great unknowns, as we continue to journey and navigate through the times in which we live, it seems so fitting that the patron saint of travelers, born one thousand seven hundred fifty years ago (in the year 270), is also one whose spirit of charity is known throughout the world, and whose name means, “victory of the people.”
For it truly is, in giving, hearts unite, and we receive. May God grant peace on Earth as we pray, St. Nicholas—victory of the people—pray for us.
Do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day. The Lord does not delay his promise, as some regard “delay,” but he is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a mighty roar and the elements will be dissolved by fire, and the earth and everything done on it will be found out. Since everything is to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be, conducting yourselves in holiness and devotion, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be dissolved in flames and the elements melted by fire. But according to his promise we await new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells. Therefore, beloved, since you await these things, be eager to be found without spot or blemish before him, at peace. – 2 Pt 3:8-14
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.”
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
A couple of years ago, I came across this large rock while at a retreat house.
While the word “Peace” is noticeably engraved toward the top of the stone, not so easily seen are the words engraved toward the bottom left side of it. “In verdant pastures He gives one rest.” These words are reminiscent of Psalm 23, which begins, “The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I lack.”
At first glance the rock appears to suggest that peace is an uphill battle. However, despite the fact that it may seem that way, both on this rock and at times in life, perhaps more than anything, it is an invitation. One must remember that Peace is not a destination, but rather a companion on the journey.
As we climb the mountain, the Lord is by our side, solid like a rock, firmly in place, and the peace we find depends upon all that we hold in our hearts and to Whom we lean into, as well as in Whom we rest.
The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I lack. In green pastures he makes me lie down; to still waters he leads me; he restores my soul. He guides me along right paths for the sake of his name. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff comfort me. You set a table before me in front of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Indeed, goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life; I will dwell in the house of the Lord for endless days. – Psalm 23
Under the best of circumstances there are moments that can stretch one to what feels like the end of the line or heading into an abyss. Over the past several months enduring all that has come with the COVID-19 pandemic, on top of the more typical challenges of life, has added entirely new layers to our existence. In many ways, one might say that we are often being pushed to our limits.
When the prophet, Elijah, stepped out from the safety of the cave, he did so trusting the voice of God that called upon him to do so. Prior to reaching Horeb and the cave within it, Elijah, his life in danger for being a vessel of Truth, had fled Samaria and was “on the run” for 40 days and nights. In the First Book of Kings, chapter 19, verse 4, when he says, “Enough, Lord! Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” it certainly seems he has reached his breaking point or been pushed to the brink of what he can tolerate.
However, it is exactly at this point, that Elijah finds respite, laying down, or taking a break. What looks like the end, as is often the case, becomes a new or different beginning, a new leg of the journey. After some sleep, a messenger of the Lord wakes Elijah up and prompts him to eat and drink, and then keep moving on. Under the direction of God, eventually, he arrives at the place, another place, where he meets God once again.
This many thousands of years later, trying as well as unimaginable days still exist, and they are experienced by one and all, in various ways, across the world…across the universe. Yet, at the very same time, there is God, in the urgent fleeing of Elijah, the messenger along the way, in each and every step toward the mountain and into the cave. There is God, constant… continuing presence, through great winds, the quaking of the earth, and in the burning of the fire.
And, also, there is God in the whisperings of the day, beckoning to all who might listen… endless opportunities to recognize, and face, the limits of our patience or understanding. There are so many ways to discover the essence of who we are called to be, and to seek the courage to stand up, come forward to the entrance of the cave, and be true to the Vision.
At the mountain of God, Horeb, Elijah came to a cave where he took shelter. Then the LORD said to him, “Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will be passing by.” A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD— but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake— but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was fire— but the LORD was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave. – 1 Kings 19:9A, 11-13A
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