Tags
encounter, friend, gratitude, presence, relationships, spiritual home, St. Barnabas, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
Commentary on this feast of St. Barnabas got me thinking today about connections. The Franciscan Media website tells us that Barnabas was “a Jew of Cyprus, as close as anyone outside the Twelve to being a full-fledged apostle.” A close associate of St. Paul, he was the one who introduced Paul to Peter and had a major role in mediating between Paul and the Jewish Christians.
Many, if not most of the people who come to the Spiritual Center in Windsor, come because of a recommendation from a friend. Often, they find a “spiritual home” here and come back eagerly the next summer to see those like-minded people with whom they continue to grow together as they are nurtured in their spiritual development. I see the same happening at the Sophia Center in the many gatherings that draw individuals of varied backgrounds. They come, perhaps, for something that sounds interesting and come back because of the people they they find in the encounter. Some relationships are instantaneous; some grow with time. Occasionally we only see a person once or twice and wonder why we miss their presence, wishing they would return.
I’ve often heard that people are in our lives for a purpose and I believe that to be true. Whether for a “chance” encounter or a lifetime relationship, the connection can be significant, even life-changing sometimes.Today’s commentary notes that in the early Church “all was not peaceful…and even the best of friends can have differences.” Surrender is a facet of any mature relationship and sometimes binds people together in ways that nothing else can.
These musings lead me to a theme for my day which will include at least three opportunities to be grateful for the people in my life – stalwart friends as well as those I do not yet know well. In between I will bless those who have taught me life lessons and have passed from this world. My gratitude list will surely be long at the end of the day…
Having arrived home last night, I could not wait another day to take up this morning ritual. Rising from sleep in my very own room, I recall my sister-in-law asking my brother – in a ritual of their own – what song has awakened him. Today I have a lovely answer for this lovely day. It is the words of Jesuit James Quinn set to the tune of Morning Has Broken. As I throw open my window to welcome the sun and a sweet breeze, I hear within these lyrics:
Sometimes when life feels very complicated I like to find some simplicity somewhere. This morning, since light had already arrived at this task before I did, I looked up and saw that my prayer plant had found a way to untangle herself from the tight configuration her leaves had been living in since I transplanted her a few weeks ago. She seemed happy to spread her arms in praise. That moment was enough to call me to do the same.
Thinking about the situation of those in the path today of Hurricane Maria, people who will be blasted for the second time in two weeks by devastation, I picked up Meg Wheatley’s book, Perseverance, since there is nothing I can say of any relevance on my own. What I found was a quote from a 14th century Japanese Samurai Warrior. It was not what I was looking for but did make me think. What if it seemed I had lost everything? I mused. What would be left that would make me refuse to lie down and die? The answer focused on inner strength and so I repeat it here as a hope for those whose lives seem empty at this moment and a way to consider hope when all outer hope is gone.
When I was teaching school, this used to be an important day for me as it still is for many folks. The Wednesday after Labor Day sees our young people returning to school after their long summer vacation. It isn’t the same everywhere in our country. In some places, school has been in session for weeks but in those places dismissal for the summer also happens earlier, primarily because of the heat, I think. Right now it seems that some young people will not return to their schools at all this year; the schools are no longer habitable because of Hurricane Harvey. What will become of them, I wonder, for many reasons. Some will likely be home-schooled. Some may be shuttled to other locations. That happened in my own town after a flood in 2011. A Catholic parish school that had been closed and used for other parish functions was given back its identity for two years while a new school was built. Will the youth of Texas be so lucky as to find schooling together with their familiars?
