Tags
gratitude, impatient, instability, Letters to a Young Poet, new spirit, patience, progress, Rainer Maria Rilke, Teilhard de Chardin, the slow work of God, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, trust, work
Today as I sit in my chair waiting for light to come I have a sense of urgency because there is a lot to achieve before my head hits the pillow again, so to speak. The days are getting shorter now. I was dismayed to know that when my alarm woke me a while ago it wasn’t a mistake. It was 6:30 and still dark outside. And yesterday we needed lights on in our living room by 6:00PM. I wonder why I was so astonished; the solstice was almost two weeks ago! I guess it is true that the older I get, the faster time seems to go.
Lest this devolve into a lament about old age which I refuse to allow because of my reverence for the wisdom of my elders, I remind myself of the advice of the great Jesuit paleontologist and theologian Pierre Teilhard de Chardin who is often quoted as saying: “Trust in the slow work of God.” I’ve known that line for a long time but this morning I came across the text from which that line originates.
Above all, he writes, trust in the slow work of God. We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay. We should like to skip the intermediate stages. We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new. And yet it is the law of all progress that it is made by passing through some stages of instability – and that it may take a very long time.
And so I think it is with you; your ideas mature gradually – let them grow, let them shape themselves, without undue haste. Don’t try to force them on, as though you could be today what time (that is to say, grace and circumstances acting on your own good will) will make of you tomorrow.
Only God could say what this new spirit gradually forming within you will be. Give our Lord the benefit of believing that his hand is leading you, and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself in suspense and incomplete.
As I was copying Teilhard’s words, they seemed similar to Rilke’s “Letters to a Young Poet” wherein similar advice about patience in life was given. I smile as I consider the necessity of hearing about the ongoing need for patience with myself and with the flow of life at my age. It is perhaps never totally achieved but maybe that is a good thing as it calls us to always reach for “the more” while accepting what is at this very moment. So on I go, slowly enough to notice the birdsong and the emerging color in the maple leaves that have now come into view, but ready as well to tackle the tasks of this day in patience and gratitude for life in this world in this time.
I’ve always been partial to Ezekiel’s verse in chapter 36 that has God saying, “I will take from you your stony hearts and give you natural hearts…” It’s something I hold onto when I’m feeling ungenerous or grumpy – or worse. This morning however, in the earlier text from Ezekiel, chapter 18: 21-28, I read a serious message about bad and good behavior and the consequences of turning in one direction or the other. In case we miss it in the first reading, the verse before the gospel says this: Cast away from you all the crimes you have committed, says the Lord, and make for yourselves a new heart and a new spirit. (18:31) The lesson for today, then, is that we have a responsibility to work toward restoring ourselves to God’s image rather than letting God do all the work.
I’ve had a bit of a theme running through the past several days of my thinking – and reflected somewhat in different ways in my writing. It started on Saturday where I heard Ezekiel asking God to “create a clean heart in me” and has had several threads constellating around the fact that my hope, not only for my own renewal but that of the world community, resides in large part in the young people of the world, especially those who have seen good in their elders. It may be a stretch to see the last five days like that but let me explain my reasons for that conclusion.
I’m pretty well-versed in Scripture passages that call on God to make me a better person. One of the most familiar to me is Psalm 51, which I fell right into reciting this morning as I read: A clean heart create for me, O God, and a steadfast spirit renew within me…I was, however, somewhat surprised by the end of the previous reading from the prophet Ezekiel and went back to read it again after finding what I expected in Psalm 51. It sounds like a slight difference in nuance but makes a huge difference in “job description” between us and God. Here’s what it says at the end of a long commentary on the virtuous and unvirtuous in “the House of Israel”:
