Lent seems to be moving so slowly. Easter is late this year. I have to look diligently when outside for signs of spring – just the tiniest sprigs of green against the house – hoping that the still freezing temperatures will not overcome them. The view from my window is so monochromatic (whew! Where did that word come from this early?!) I’m not sure I can trust the sun this morning to effect a change. I feel as if the silence is so big everything would break if I moved more than my fingers on the keyboard. Traffic is silent. The birds seem to be hiding from the neighborhood hawk. Everything seems like that line from Paul’s letter to the Romans: “All creation waits on tiptoe to see the children of God coming into their own.”
How difficult it is to remain still and just BE. There is always so much to do. I’m sensing that the impulse of being is more important now than ever. Can you feel it? Can you allow your body and mind to acquiesce to it in hopes of learning some new truth? Let us breathe…and hope.
Yesterday I spent an uncommon amount of time (for me) on YouTube. I watched the eulogies of Barack Obama, Meghan McCain and George W. Bush during the funeral of Senator John McCain. All were quite different, as are the individuals themselves, but at a moment during the speech of former President Bush I was struck by a rising sensation that I can only express as “love of country.” It was clear to me that in moments of great import, small things no longer have any place. I have known this often in the past year during weather disasters and mass shootings, but this was in some way different. It struck at the heart of how we as Americans are able, perhaps, to agree in times of great division because we recognize what is important at the center of everything. We do not need to be perfect in order to be together; we just need to be willing. We have not reached 100% participation in this truth but yesterday allowed me a glimpse of possibility that has been sorely lacking for us as a country lately.
Everything is so still this morning. It reminds me of the line in Paul’s Letter to the Romans where he says that “all creation is on tiptoe, waiting for the children of God to come into their own.” That image is my favorite translation because it is so visual but also because it implies for me an intense use of both ears and eyes. We won’t see it if we have our eyes closed and we won’t hear it if we’re not really listening. Even if all of our five outer senses are engaged, there needs to be an interior readiness for the in-breaking of God’s presence. I’ve come to the conclusion that it is an incremental thing, sparked either by our own silence or by a communal encounter of recognition. Deeper than silence, the stillness becomes palpable and we know something that we didn’t know before – indescribable but deeply true. Again it is John Philip Newell whose prayer suffices for this morning.
I was always envious of people who could quote Scripture with chapter and verse. I had my favorite passages – most of them short, like “God is Love” – but was usually only vaguely aware of where to find them in the Bible. The exception was Romans 12:12 (most likely because of the double 12) that reminded me to “base your happiness on your hope in Christ.”
Our first real frost today has its effect on arthritic limbs even for those of us who feel it only in tiny places (one finger perhaps). It seems an appropriate metaphor for our state of heart after seeing the 26 faces of those killed in church on Sunday in a small town in Texas, victims from 17 months to 77 years old. “Frozen with shock,” disbelief and overwhelming sadness at this latest outrageous act, I read again today from Paul’s letter to the Romans. Whatever other commandments there may be are summed up, Paul says, in this saying, namely, You shall love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no evil to the neighbor; hence, love is the fulfillment of the law. (ROM 13:10)
Sometimes opportunity is so fleeting that we easily miss it if we aren’t paying attention. Take, for example, the coming of light to the sky. That’s something that happens every morning so it’s often taken for granted. Today, because of the shift to Daylight Saving Time, I was happy to see that it was in process as I started the trek downstairs for my coffee. Had I not been paying attention when I sat to write on my return I would have missed a breathtaking red sky whose glory dissipated within two minutes. I was almost too busy reading Paul’s staccato-like advice to the Romans in chapter 12 to look out the window. Both “feasts for the eyes” were worthy of a pause.
Since I need to be ready by 7:00AM to make breakfast for our energetic group of workshop participants this morning, I hoped there would be a brief message in today’s lectionary readings that would serve as a worthy point of reflection for the day. I found not one, but two – so take your pick or choose them both since joined together they provide both a goal and a promise!
Today is one of the many church feasts honoring Mary, the mother of Jesus. I always remember the date of this one because it is the birthday of my cousin, Ginni – Virginia – named for Mary under the title of the “Blessed Virgin.” When I was young it was celebrated as the feast of the Mary, Queen of Heaven. I find it interesting that when the liturgical calendar was updated some years ago, this feast became instead the commemoration of the Visitation of Mary to her kinswoman, Elizabeth. I wonder if the rationale for the shift was the same as that of Elizabeth Johnson, CSJ in her book entitled Truly Our Sister: Mary in the Communion of Saints. Sister Elizabeth’s thesis is that although Mary is revered for the great honor bestowed on her by God she was a human being who lived a human life with the same joys and sorrows of women of the world in all eras of our history. The book is scholarly, to be sure, but my favorite section is the one that paints a picture of what life was like in Nazareth in the first century, including such images as the setup of the family home and the daily rituals, successfully bringing into focus Mary’s reality. It is a wonderful book, best read perhaps saving the first sections on theological considerations until after one has been treated to the world in which Mary lived and a consideration of all the biblical texts where she is mentioned and/or encountered.
