Tags
Acts of the Apostles, Barnabas, christians, Easter, faith, garden, grace, hope, Jesus, joy, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
This morning as I clicked on my usual first source for inspiration, the US Catholic Bishops’ listing of lectionary readings for the day, I read April 24, 2018 – Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Easter. I needed to go no further with that as a prompt. I thought of how quickly this year seems to be passing and was grateful that the daffodils have finally bloomed along the side of our house. It’s impossible to go by them without smiling; their bright yellow faces sing “Hello!” with such enthusiasm. At the same time I wondered how conscious I am each day of still celebrating the Easter feast. The readings from the Acts of the Apostles help, of course, as they are full of the vibrant stories of the first disciples and the remarkable happenings as they traveled around spreading the good news of Jesus. Today, in chapter 11, there is word of Barnabas, “a good man, filled with the Spirit and faith,” who was sent to Antioch where “a large number of people was added to the Lord.” As sort of a postscript to all the recounting there, the text ends with the monumental statement that “it was in Antioch that the disciples were first called Christians.”
All of that brought me to a place of gratitude for tradition and the richness of faith. I saw it clearly yesterday in a glorious ritual of passage, the funeral of a 92-year-old mother of a very musical family. There was a choir that enhanced the rich congregational singing, a eulogy at the beginning that brought us all into this wonderful lady’s life and a beautiful reflection at the end by two sons and two granddaughters on French horns, guitar and double base. It was truly a celebration of life from beginning to end and emphasizes for me that Easter continues to this day and beyond.
Joyce Rupp says it best for me as she prays: Risen Christ, we turn to you with full reliance on your resurrected presence here and now. We renew our trust in your grace to restore our joy when it lies hidden in our entombed self. Turn us again and again toward hope. Open our hearts to recognize you in the garden of our everyday lives. Amen. (Prayer Seeds, p.77)
For so many people I have encountered in so many places recently, life seems to be a continual walk in the dark. For Christians who are following the path of Lent, walking with Jesus ever closer to the events of what we call Holy Week, the heaviness of these days can be an opportunity even as we find our energy sapped by news of a world in deep turmoil. Another school shooting yesterday, panic in Austin, Texas over serial bomb explosions, wildly destructive coastal storms and personal tragedies or disappointments leave us wondering when and how it will all end. Will Easter bring us solace and the promise of new life?
Sitting here this morning taking inventory of my thoughts and feelings I found only loss. First, I was faced with a message from a friend about her mother’s passing. It was not an unexpected message but monumental, of course, especially for someone who has been a loving caretaker for a long time. Then I read less serious news of dashed Olympic hopes in skiing and skating. Americans who seemed destined to win by the agreement of the entire world failed miserably and one wonders what role the expectations of everyone had in the results.
On this feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, the thought comes to me that God can work with anyone to grant a behavioral turnaround. Granted that more serious situations demand more cataclysmic, Cecil B. De Mille-like solutions (as in Paul’s case) but it seems that God is willing to go to any extreme to bring us back from the precipice of destruction. A comforting and hope-filled thought, I’d say, when I am feeling less than saintly.
It seems beyond human capacity that a world of several billion persons could come together under one ruler. There are so many countervailing factors. Just think about the diversity of languages or food choices, religious beliefs and so much more. That said, I think of efforts being made in spiritual circles to appreciate the values and practices of others that are birthing new hope for finding commonality that will lead at least to peaceful co-existence.
Having set up the coffee last night for the Sisters staying on the guest floor at our Province Center, I was surprised to be the first arriving in the kitchen this morning. I thought someone would have been awake before 6:30…I could hardly click the switch on the coffee maker, however, so glorious was the scene unfolding outside the window. The still darkish dawn sky was splashed with waves of deep magenta, growing brighter by the minute! But there was nothing hurried about the sun’s rise to the top of the hills across the Hudson River in Troy – nor of the coffee maker, I might add…
I come late today to this task because I sat with my coffee this morning recounting the story of the wedding reception I attended last evening. I have great hopes for this couple in their mid-twenties who have known each other since their first school dance in 7th grade and have grown in love until, at 1:00 yesterday afternoon, they joined in the sanctuary of the church with tears of joy (both of them!) that this moment had finally come. At the dinner reception I was reminded of the importance of family and friends in the lives of such a couple. Touching toasts to the groom and the bride, spoken by two brothers and two sisters, were concluded by two friends and followed by a beautiful blessing by the father of the groom. As I heard the hopes for long life and “the blessing of children,” I was aware of the circle of life in this gathered community widening and being strengthened by this new family unit. There is no lack of wisdom in the elders who surround this couple and lots of companionship for the days to come.
Here is one more prayer of praise from Macrina Wiederkehr, the text I will pray this morning with my colleagues as we gather for another day together.
I read something from Macrina Wiederkehr’s book, sevensacredpauses, this morning that made me smile, especially given what I wrote yesterday. I think it’s worth sharing.
There are moments – days – when I sit not knowing what to say here. The words nine and eleven, when taken together, can conjure up only one thing for most, if not all, people in the United States. We were shaken to our core in 2001 with images of planes crashing into buildings and those buildings crumbling like structures in a bad movie. Messages of love on cell phones and lines of people waiting to give blood to the wounded showed us the other side of the tragedy. Remembrance of the outpouring of care for those most affected has helped assuage the grief of those days following the 9/11 attacks but it is like other days in our history that have left indelible scars in our hearts.