As many people have, I’ve been taking the opportunity lately that working from home affords me to do the things I never have time for. My latest and greatest effort has been getting rid of much of what I no longer need. I am amazed at how difficult a task it has become because of all the things that I call “mine.” They are not, in the grand scheme of things, what people might see as “treasures” but they are meaningful. to me for various reasons—mostly sentimental. It has been a difficult but freeing thing to divest myself of what I no longer need, and what ultimately helps me to remember that, as the Scriptures say, where your treasure is, there also is your heart. And there is much more space for the inner things that I value. Less clutter = more freedom in every way.
Try it! I highly recommend letting go!
I had a bit of an epiphany this morning. (Is that possible, or is an epiphany always spectacular?) I was reading the gospel from today’s lectionary – very brief and so familiar – which read:
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.
Yesterday I had another of those conversations about what some of us have come to call “bigger barns.” As “girls” often do, we were admiring someone’s lovely clothing. As is also frequently the case, the woman in question said she found it on sale and just couldn’t leave it in the store. She then proceeded to lament her full closet and her intention to clean out and let go of things she hadn’t worn in more than a year. We all agreed we tend to wear the same few outfits, maybe pairing different blouses with skirts or slacks but eventually noticing that we wear what is comfortable and those items in our closet that we like best. So why do we hold on so tightly to all the rest…?
There has been lots of speculation over the history of this world of what heaven is like. The difficult thing about any definition is that nobody is really sure. People have talked about “moving toward the light” and other sensations as part of near death experiences but it seems there is no absolute definition, primarily because we live in this realm for now and can only speculate about the next. The gospel for today (MT 13:44-52) gives a few good similes, however, that can help us begin to consider what heaven might feel like at least. They’re very familiar: the joy of finding a treasure in a field, the willingness of selling everything to buy a pearl of great price…but then Jesus talks a bit more seriously about our responsibility not to be swayed by externals. At the end of this morning’s text he says that every scribe who has been instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old. 
Today’s lectionary texts offer a quick summary of what has been called salvation history, beginning with the Israelites who “with sure knowledge of the oaths in which they put their faith…have courage.” (WIS 18:6-9) Both this reading and the second are primarily a commentary on the faith and hope of Abraham whose journey of life took a serious turn when he was facing old age and God told him to leave his home and move to a land God would show him. He could have stayed home…but he didn’t. Sometimes we have to wait for God’s call as Psalm 33 tells us. (Our soul waits for the Lord who is our help and our shield. May your kindness, O Lord, be upon us who have put our hope in you.)
