Tags
enemy, forgiveness, friend, grace, gratitude, John Philip Newell, mercy, Praying With the Earth, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
Everything is quiet this morning. I woke up to a morning with no wind, no rain, no snow – and no cars racing down the road. I was grateful for all that after the tumultuous debate of democratic candidates for President of the United States last night. Most bothersome was the disregard for time limits as people continued to talk while others were chiming in with their opinions and disagreements until it became what I imagine the Tower of Babel was like. I presume this will continue now until the primary races are over and there is a named nominee. And then there will be the more contentious period of run-up to the general election. It will not be a pretty process, but unavoidable for committed citizens. While we don’t need to listen to everything, staying above the fray and listening to nothing is not the way to participate in our democracy so I am grateful for moments like this one and guides like John Philip Newell who grounds me in simplicity with his morning prayers. Won’t you join me today?
We wake to the forgiveness of a new day. We wake to the freedom to begin again. We wake to the mercy of the sun’s redeeming light. Always new, always gift, always blessing. We wake to the forgiveness of this new day.
May our enemy become our friend, O God, that we may share earth’s goodness. May our enemy become our friend, O God, that our children may meet and marry. May our enemy become our friend, O God, that we may remember our shared birth in you. May we grow in grace, may we grow in gratitude, may we grow in wisdom, that our enemy may become our friend. (Praying with the Earth – A Prayerbook for Peace, p. 36)
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?
