There are lots of familiar images in the readings for today. In reading both the text from Jeremiah and the psalm it’s easy for me to see a tree planted near water “stretching out its roots to the stream” (JER) and “yielding its fruit in due season” (Psalm 1) because a river runs through the back of our property and we are blessed with many trees that will be leafing out within a couple of months. There are some spring days when we worry about the river overflowing its banks but rushing water or damage to the trees is rare. It is miraculous to me to walk around in the spring and observe the growth that has taken place – without any fanfare, silently and imperceptibly over the winter.
Both Jeremiah and the psalmist are comparing us to these trees. Of course there are broken branches in some cases – usually from winter wind – but mostly we can count on the strength of the roots and the trunks of the trees to persevere and grow. It gives me hope to consider this comparison, especially when I am not feeling very effective or prolific in projects or when the strictures of winter seem too harsh. All I need to do is look up from my typing and see the tree outside my window standing tall and silent against the morning sky. Two bluejays have just landed in its branches without any assistance from the tree itself.
So it is with my life (and yours). A readiness to offer space for another is enough as we wait for a later recognition of the growth that manifests even just because of the waiting.
Our most cherished annual gathering, to honor St. Joseph (feast day 3/19) and those Sisters celebrating a jubilee in religious life (40, 50, 60, 70, 75 years this time), was held yesterday. The liturgy was glorious and we “sang our hearts out!” As I thought of that turn of phrase this morning I felt more deeply the truth of our covenant with God as expressed in today’s first lectionary reading from Jeremiah 31:31-34.
Today is not a happy remembrance in the calendar of Church feasts. It is the commemoration of “the Holy Innocents,” the victims of Herod’s massacre of all the baby boys under two years old. Herod was determined to eliminate the possibility that someone – a “new-born” king (Jesus) – would usurp his power. Since he had no idea of where that child might be found, his rage prompted the terrible deed that left so many mothers bereft. It was a fruitless gesture, as violence always is, because Jesus and his parents were well on their way to Egypt when the massacre occurred.
On days like today when we have been once again faced with senseless, unspeakable violence, this time on a scale not seen before in our history, it is difficult to even begin to speak of it. My first thought this morning was of a line from Scripture: A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more. (JER 31:15) As we turn in prayer toward the people of Las Vegas – for that seems the only thing to do as the tally of dead and wounded continues to rise – we must lament, as individuals and as a nation. And in the face of the distress in this dawning day, I turn to Meg Wheatley for a way to persevere.
My “homecoming” this past Sunday was truly refreshing. Being able to sleep for a continuous 12 hours (!) and then walk outside around our land in the morning breathing the good country air and catching up with my housemates on the events I missed while I was away felt very, very good. It only lasted for 48 hours, however, as on Tuesday afternoon I was back in the car on my way to Albany to help with a CSJ Community retreat. Today is Thursday and although working and praying with the Sisters is a special privilege I am happy to be heading home again late this afternoon. This time I plan to stay awhile.
