After a first reading from the Book of Revelation today, my ears pricked up and my insides were warning: “Uh-oh!” because the “one like a son of man with a sharp sickle in his hand” was coming. I felt a shift, however, with Psalm 96, exhaling a long breath to hear that “He (the Lord) has made the world firm, not to be moved; he governs the peoples with equity.”
I know that we are coming swiftly into the season of Advent. I love this time of preparation and although it seems that it will be different this year, there have been intimations of hope. There are three vaccines now that seem to have the potential to slow the spread of the virus that runs rampant everywhere. For Americans in the USA, the 16-day stranglehold on the presidential election is finally over and we need not wait any longer for the transition to begin. Already in the first day, we can see civility and wisdom returning to life in these United States. But it is only a beginning. What has begun by decree from the new administration in Washington has to be accepted throughout the land and that will necessitate a monumental effort.
But that’s why I love the Season of Advent. It speaks of the time that is coming but has yet to appear. We cannot see but only feel what is happening underground, pulsing in the earth and in our lives. The signs are faint but soon to be seen. The potential is within. We have to look more deeply to perceive it.
The quote for today is from Alfred Lord Tennyson: Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, “It twill be happier.”
Today is a day to choose hope. It is a day for us – the Sisters of St Joseph, Albany Province – to join together and try again for a virtual meeting, having had more or less success over the past 8 months to gather on Zoom and Vvoter to exercise our voices in the governance of our community. Because of the Covid pandemic we are not meeting in person, but life must go on so, as we have always done, we find ways to come together to govern ourselves. It is the way of things now and we accept the challenges before us, trusting that we will survive, and more…we know we will thrive and come through this time with confidence in a future not yet known to us but known to God.
From my new favorite resource (see yesterday’s post) I choose a quote from Barack Obama for this day. Won’t you join me in trusting the virtue of hope?
The best way to not feel hopeless is to get up and do something. Don’t wait for good things to happen to you. If you go out and make some good things happen, you will fill the world with hope, you will fill yourself with hope.
Today I will need a lot of discipline to accomplish the tasks before me. “Why?” you ask. Well, I just unearthed a magazine with 96 pages that I bought some time ago, somewhere that I don’t remember, that cost $14.99, a highly over-priced item, I thought…that I could not pass up. First of all, it’s called (in big, bold, black letters) BREATHE and is subtitled The Well-being Special. It’s unlike anything I have ever encountered for the beauty and breadth of topics and illustrations, truly a work of art! It will surely be nearly, if not totally, impossible to tear myself away for any other activity today more important than devouring…savoring this treasure!
Starting to explore from the back page (Why not?!) I found a list of quotes from all sorts of familiar but diverse sources from Aristotle to J.R.R. Tolkien, gathered under the title: A Triumph of Hope: A selection of thoughtful words to inspire and guide. Although each quote will likely show up in this blog at some point, I choose Tolkien for today when hope from the outside world seems in short supply. The words seem to be exactly what we need to go on.
How could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. (Extract from The Two Towers)
Today we have certainly reached the edge of the winter season as we experience temperatures tottering at the 30 degree mark and the winds whipping snow off the roof across the yard in momentary blizzard conditions. It will all be over soon as predictions for tomorrow catapult us back toward the 55 degree mark, (five being the number of change in numerology…).
Against that tumultuous background I clicked on a peaceful YouTube video offered this morning by Jan Phillips. Between the engaging photos and the ethereal background music of the Ave Maria, the text of Hope Transforms provides exactly what the title promises: hope and peace on this otherwise potentially difficult day. It is worth ten minutes of your time and may be just what you need today.
I sit today in a state of tension. As a member of a family that was always interested in politics, who believed that compromises were a necessary part of the process, I looked forward even as a child to Election Day, knowing that either elation or disappointment would be the result – likely some of each depending on the year, but appreciation of the democratic process was a given.
Much has changed in our world in recent times and we are now in the midst of the most dangerous “moment” in our modern history and of the political process. Becoming part of a world in which technology plays a major role, we are also open to interference on an international scale, especially, at this moment, in our elections. Gone are the days when we could count on trusting the process – or the outcome as a simple result.
Last night as I listened to statistical projections on the television, I could feel the cheerleader in myself preparing for wild joy or deadening disappointment. Those feelings are still with me, and will likely remain through the weekend and the days to come. Just before I turned off the TV, however, I saw something on the screen that restored my hope. There were a number of images, flashed consecutively every few seconds, from different places across the country. They each depicted a polling place where lines of people stood silently moving toward the goal of casting their ballots. It was a striking image of the best in us as a country: people standing – likely for a long time, moving very slowly, peacefully, toward the fulfillment of the sacred duty that is part of the bedrock of our nation.
The phenomenon of participation unrivaled ever before in a national election in our country urges me to have hope in this time of turmoil. Now I can only pray for a transition of power equal to that hope in the days ahead.
I was led this morning to Psalm 62 by an e-mail from a friend. It speaks to the state of mind where I choose to place my hope these days.
Alone my soul awaits you in the silence, Lord; by you and only you am I restored. You are for me my solid ground, foundation firm on which I stand…for you are my whole hope and prayer. You only are my saving rock, a stronghold safe, unshaken, sure, my safety, honor and my refuge firm...(Ancient Songs Sung Anew, p.154)
For additional reflection, if you prefer music, visit John Foley of the Saint Louis Jesuits at YouTube for the song Only In God.
I can’t help myself. Today I am shamelessly lifting the introductory words from the blog on the franciscanmedia.org website. It’s entitled as above: Hope and Humility: Our Weapons against COVID – 19. I believe that a very important lesson is encapsulated in the two quoted sentences that follow. I invite your reflection.
Neither God nor our world is tame: there is an unpredictability woven into reality itself. Facing this truth, the only appropriate response is humility. (Kyle Kramer)
The entire article is worth your time but if you can’t possibly spare 5 or 10 minutes to read it in its entirety, here is the conclusion. (Kudos to Kyle Kramer, author)
It’s hard to let go of the illusion of certainty and safety. But my hope is that this present darkness, which feels so much like an unraveling and breakdown, is actually a birthing process in which God our midwife is bringing us into a new, more beautiful, more blessed way of being.
Today there seems to be a whisper of promise in the world. The sun has returned after the torrential rain and thunder of yesterday and the birds are conversing in quiet tones outside. Fog is lifting – inside and out. There is a sense of possibility, a hope for return to civility on the heels of charges brought against the four policemen involved in the death of George Floyd. We are, perhaps, at the beginning of a new moment of what will be a long awakening. Our task now is to recognize and acknowledge the situation in which we stand.
I am often taken by the messages of Brian Johnson on his daily website offering: optimize.me and today I found his words and those he quoted from President John F. Kennedy particularly appropriate. The occasion was the graduation ceremony at the University of California at Berkeley in 1962. I offer it in gratitude for Brian Johnson, for the hope that is in me and perhaps for the stirring again in many of us, allowing a desire for reparation and a new birth.
Kennedy speaks: “‘Knowledge is the great sun of the firmament,’ said Senator Daniel Webster. ‘Life and power are scattered with all its beams.”‘ “In its light we must think and act not only for the moment but for our time. I am reminded of the story of the great French Marshal Lyautey, who once asked his gardener to plant a tree. The gardener objected that the tree was slow-growing and would not reach maturity for a hundred years. The Marshal replied, ‘In that case there is no time to lose; plant it this afternoon.‘”
Kennedy wrapped up his speech by saying: “Today a world of knowledge – a world of cooperation – just and lasting peace – may be years away. But we have no time to lose. Let us plant our trees this afternoon.”
I wasn’t sure yesterday that I would be able to write anything ever again in the face of all the devastation around us (see yesterday’s post). Of course we have seen devastation before. I just think of all the fires and the slow oozing of volcanic lava last year on the island of Hawai’i, and the floods and/or drought across the United States. These are natural disasters; we survive them and rebuild. What is happening now in our country, however, is of human origin that is not happening because of one event. It is, at its core, a result of prejudice and distrust leading all the way to hatred that has once more erupted into violence. And it has happened before. But this time it seems different.
The violence that has spread across the country (not unlike the fires of last year) goes deeper than the catalyst: the death of one man caused by another. Brutal as it was in itself, George Floyd’s death was also a symbol, the last straw in a long line of events that speak of racial hatred, white privilege and the failure of understanding of what freedom means in our democracy. Freedom is linked to disciplined living, not to license to do whatever one wills. We have clearly failed to comprehend the depth of our responsibility to others when we ignore the strictures of self quarantine in the present pandemic and obedience to curfew in the face of the violent protests.
It seems that we have come to a crossroad. If we fail to face the crisis of the present moment, it seems clear that we will have failed far into the future. It will take a mighty effort to even begin to face all the issues that we must confront: racism, police brutality, personal responsibility as citizens and lack of love – which is at the heart of all other issues. To be fair, there have been extraordinary acts of kindness and care during the pandemic that underlies much of the anxiety in the country and even during the violence that has followed over the past week. But we will have to dig deeper for the courage we need to face ourselves and one another at this juncture.
I said at the beginning of this post that I wasn’t sure I could write any more after yesterday. I have truly been heartbroken and feeling powerless over the past week – as I believe most of us have been. What has motivated me this morning is my “go to” practice: the daily Scripture readings. Today it was Psalm 90, especially the refrain for liturgy: In every age, O Lord, you have been our refuge… As I read that phrase and what followed, the words of a modern hymn by Janet Sullivan Whitaker kept repeating in my mind. When I found the song on the internet and let myself feel the words and music, I was reminded of where my strength comes from…in every age. Here are the words:
Long before the mountains came to be and the land and sea and stars of the night, through the endless seasons of all time, you have always been. You will always be…In every age, O God, you have been our refuge. In every age, O God, you have been our hope…
May you have the strength today for whatever you are called to be or do for the world. May it be the same for all of us.
As I contemplate the tumultuous times in which we live, the words of a familiar song float in. “Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.” Do we ever really take that to heart? Joyce Rupp urges me along today toward that goal. Listen.
“Rock and Refuge, Stronghold of Souls, Unshakeable One, infuse your strength into the places where I feel the greatest weakness. Permeate the parts of my life that continually challenge my patience. Increase my ability to accept those who seem to be most unacceptable. Lessen any tendency in my spirit that gives way to a loss of hope. Reinforce an awareness of the daily manifestations of your presence. Boost my spirit when I think I cannot manage what is mine to be and do.” (Prayer Seeds, p. 56)
