I”ve spent some time yesterday and the day before picking up branches under one of our large maple trees. I hope that today I will complete the task and be able to rake and then cut the grass under that tree. We’ve had an inordinate amount of shedding going on this spring, mostly because of the heavy winds of the past few months. Some of the branches could be mistaken for trees themselves because they are so very large. As I drag them to a pile on the edge of our property, I sometimes wonder what made them separate from the tree as many of them seem strong and not at all diseased. People would say that it’s just the way of things in nature: they live, are nourished by their root system and then they die – either from a weather event or just old age.
Clearing the branches makes me more aware of the gifts of the trees to our ecosystem and to me. Beauty, shade and release of necessary gasses as they breathe are notable reasons to be grateful, as is the shelter they provide for the birds. Interestingly, today the gospel is the familiar “vine and branches” reading from John that speaks to us of our connection to one another and to God. And that is perhaps the greatest lesson of all.
Yesterday I had two meetings back-to-back. The first was a small gathering, only four of seven who try to gather monthly for a “shot in the arm” of wisdom practices that keep us conscious in a way that nothing else seems able to do. We always miss but are very aware of our connection with our “absent brethren.” I went from there to a virtual committee meeting; just our voices were together through the miracle of a phone conference. Again we were four, together in the ethers in an effort to create a process that we hope will enable deeper sharing among members of a much larger group. I could see the faces in my mind as each of us spoke and allowed ideas to germinate in the sharing.
In the wake of another mass shooting in a high school yesterday where all reports were of a system that was prepared for such an incident, it seems futile to talk about all the security measures that were in place. How was a single gunman able to kill 17 people? Will we ever be able to stop such things from happening by shoring up our defenses? Are we not called for something more transformative? Isaiah thinks so.
Sometimes we just have to “let go and let God.” At the beginning of this week we had heard from people who said, “Oh yes, I’d like to come to your soup supper” (see yesterday’s post) but at that point we only had one confirmed reservation. I think it was on Tuesday that we counted up nine additional people. Since I have been engaged in programming events for years where reservations (not necessarily for food but sometimes just for space and set-up), I expected some “after deadline traffic” but I was beginning to wonder about the folly of such an undertaking. My last call for an additional two attendees was yesterday morning about seven hours before the event. By then I had developed enough stamina to reply, “Of course you can come! I’ll see you there!” while my mind was saying, “Will we have enough soup? Will I find enough soup spoons? Should we have ordered more books”…etc.
This may sound a bit crass to some who expect a reflection on the Good Shepherd today, but I just read an article about yesterday’s annual Kentucky Derby and made a connection that I want to share. It’s not about sheep, obviously, but rather horses and the fact that even really rich people can share dreams that start in childhood.
