I”ve spent some time yesterday and the day before picking up branches under one of our large maple trees. I hope that today I will complete the task and be able to rake and then cut the grass under that tree. We’ve had an inordinate amount of shedding going on this spring, mostly because of the heavy winds of the past few months. Some of the branches could be mistaken for trees themselves because they are so very large. As I drag them to a pile on the edge of our property, I sometimes wonder what made them separate from the tree as many of them seem strong and not at all diseased. People would say that it’s just the way of things in nature: they live, are nourished by their root system and then they die – either from a weather event or just old age.
Clearing the branches makes me more aware of the gifts of the trees to our ecosystem and to me. Beauty, shade and release of necessary gasses as they breathe are notable reasons to be grateful, as is the shelter they provide for the birds. Interestingly, today the gospel is the familiar “vine and branches” reading from John that speaks to us of our connection to one another and to God. And that is perhaps the greatest lesson of all.
People often ask me these days if I am retired. I’m no longer shocked at the question, especially since I am now 70 years old (an amazing statistic that still surprises me sometimes!). I have been blessed thus far with good health and am grateful for meaningful and creative work that continues to present itself.
Psalm 119, the longest in the book of 150 psalms, has 176 verses and can be the study of a lifetime. In a commentary this morning I read that the subject of these prayers is the hard learning one gains in light of a multitude of hardships and circumstances encountered on the spiritual path…Experiences are often repeated again and again. As we go over the same territory learning it in new ways, truth becomes grounded. Insights are gained from each spiral of ascending experience.
I learned a long time ago the necessity of pruning: that even though it may seem cruel to cut off any part of a plant, cutting it back may cause the possibility of a stronger and healthier plant in the long run. It was the tomato section of our garden that taught me that hard lesson many years ago. I learned what “suckers” were that summer and the fact that the longer you left them, the more they drained the energy of the whole – without bearing fruit themselves.
There’s a great lesson in today’s first reading (2 KGS 5:1-15) about Naaman, the Syrian army commander who was “highly esteemed and respected” by his master, the king of Aram. At issue was the fact that Naaman was a leper and that his wife’s Israeli slave girl suggested that he could be cured by Elisha, the prophet in Samaria. The king of Aram was all for the idea and sent Naaman with all sorts of expensive gifts to the king of Israel with a letter containing the request that Naaman be cured.
I had the privilege once of meeting Oren Lyon, the Native American “Faithkeeper” of the Onondaga Nation who lives just south of the city of Syracuse, New York about 80 miles from my home. I was pleasantly surprised that Alan Cohen wrote today about the role of “Faithkeeper” as it is embodied by Oren Lyon and others like him. This person in the tribe consistently holds the higher vision, having been designated to be the voice of hope, an inspiration to remember the bigger picture when others forget it. Cohen remarks that “each of us needs to be a Faithkeeper. When others around us go into fear or confusion, we serve best by remembering the light and holding peace.” When in the presence of Oren Lyon, it was easy to sense what this means and why he holds such a designation for his people.
I was reminded again this week of how easy it is for me to walk through my days on automatic pilot and how quickly I fall out of consciousness while doing a task. Let me explain. On Tuesday my cursor disappeared from my computer screen. (I have a touchpad which I have been using for over three years.) No matter what we (I and my tech companion in the office who saves me all the time) tried, nothing would bring back that little arrow that makes things happen and allows me even the smallest success in communication. When I finally had time to visit the “Geek Squad” it took two experts to figure out that a mouse – a computer mouse, that is – might get me back up and running. Voila! It worked. Having breathed a large sigh of relief, I went back to my office and happily started to type again. Each time I needed to move the cursor for an edit or another function, I found my index finger circling around on the touchpad until I woke up to the fact that I needed the mouse to accomplish the move. My mind was on the text I was typing and the two tasks of hitting the keys and using the cursor were secondary and tertiary, just like so many other activities that I do automatically.
Today it’s Isaiah whose message rings loudly in my ears with the same focus: go deeper! Get to the heart of things. He’s talking about fasting and the dissatisfaction of the people with God’s response – or lack thereof – to their practice. They want their reward. But God is more concerned with the lack of depth in their spiritual lives because, even while they fast, they mistreat their laborers and fight among themselves. They just don’t get it. So once again they – and we – get a lesson on what it means to “fast from the heart.” It’s a truly moving and inspired passage. (Is 58:1-9a) Read it aloud, if you will, with gusto!
