It occurs to me…

“And he arose and came to his father.”  Luke 15:20

When I read this I think of the trepidation the young man, the prodigal, must have felt.  He has gone off into a far country against his father’s wishes, lost all his money, taken a crappy job, nearly starved to death, and come to the realization that he would be better going back to his father as a hired servant than remain on the path he is on.  Still, he has to transfer all that thought into action, to arise and take the first step, then the next, to start the long trek home – and you know that was a long walk home.

It occurs to me that at any point in life there are those “returns,” those “journeys home”  I am thinking about making that require an awakening first (that point in the parable in which “he came to himself”), and then the trepidation-filled first step, then the next, on the journey back.  Keep moving along.

“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.”  Psalm 51:10

Renewal, that seems to me to be the theme of Psalm 51.  It is not just that we have screwed up once and seek forgiveness for that transgression – though that is part of it.  There is also an understanding that once that sin is washed away, there are others behind it, or others to come.  “For I know my transgressions and my sin is always before me.” v. 3

So, it is a prayer of renewal, yes, but also a plea to God to not give up on us despite the mess we have made of things.  “Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me.”  v. 11-12  Indeed, if I may be so bold (and I am): “Restore to me the joy of your salvation.”  V. 12.  In that sense, it is kind of like shampoo — Rinse — Lather — Repeat.

“Enough is a feast.”  Celia Mora

Webster’s defines enough as follows: “occurring in such quantity, quality, or scope as to fully meet demands, needs, or expectations.” Who am I to quibble with Webster’s, but speaking for myself, and I guess about myself, “enough” seems to me to be something less than what I demand or expect, unless of course I have “right-sized” my demands and expectations.

“Why, you don’t even know what will happen tomorrow.  What is your life?  You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.  Instead, you ought to say, ‘if it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.’ As it is, you boast and brag.  All such boasting is evil.  Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.”  James 4:16-16

If looking for affirmation and encouragement thumbing through the Bible, this is not a great place to start.  This is, however, a reality check, particularly for those (throat clearing) who tend to lose sight of the big picture.  Every time I read this I am reminded of a mentor of mine who, every time I used to head out to undertake some important task, would tell me as I headed to the elevator: “Remember, there are millions and millions of people in China that don’t even know this problem, much less you, exists.”  I saw that as levity at the time, and it was, but in retrospect, (I liked the guy) I like to think he was pointing me to these verses.

From the poet, Wendell Berry

“I am one who is knocking

at the door.  I am one whose foot

is on the bottom rung.

But I know that Heaven’s

bottom rung is Heaven

though the ladder is standing

on the earth where I work

by day and at night sleep

with my head upon a stone.”

This from the same Wendell Berry who wrote: “Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts.”  I like Berry’s attitude, and his mental image of the ladder, which may reach into the heavens, but which, to be of any practical use to us, has to have its bottom rung ”standing on the earth where I work by day and at night sleep with my head upon a stone.”

Though no Pollyanna, Berry exudes hope, even if hope, at times, seems to feel like Jim Carrey’s line in Dumb and Dumber: “So you’re telling me there’s a chance.  Yeah!”

There is something about the poetry of Mary Oliver that hits home with me, and based on her popularity, I guess with others as well.  Her way with words, her ability to make words into feelings, is exemplified in When Death Comes, the title, in and of itself, an amazing combination of three words.  Not the question of “If Death Comes” or the darkness of “Death Comes,” but the simple realization, perhaps resignation, of “When Death Comes.”

One line I have always favored is “when death comes, like an iceberg between the shoulders”  — a line descriptive beyond words.  But as she often does, Oliver saves the best for the last:

“When its over, I don’t want to wonder

if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,

or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”

Photo taken in Galveston

Reading today from Henri Nouwen’s Making All Things New:

“To create space for God among us requires the constant recognition of the Spirit of God in each other.”

My first reaction is that no one told me it was going to be THAT difficult, but Nouwen persists.

“Community has little to do with mutual compatibility.  Similarities in educational background, psychological make-up, or social status can bring us together, but they can never be the basis for community.  Community is grounded in God, who calls us together, and not in the attractiveness of people to each other.  There are many groups that have been formed to defend their own status, or to promote their own causes….  Instead of breaking through the walls of fear and creating space for God, they close themselves to real or imaginary intruders.  The mystery of community is precisely that it embraces all people, whatever their individual differences may be, and allows them to live together as brothers and sisters in Christ….”

It is easy to perceive that community is gathering with like-minded folks who can, conveniently, share thoughts, complaints, and points of view.  It occurs to me that if this were true, looking in a mirror would be community.

“And when he had spent it all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want.”  Luke 15:14

Reading the Prodigal Son parable today this verse jumped out at me.  Here’s the younger son in his moment of comeuppance (oh, that older brother voice is so strong!).  He has lived high on the hog for a while, but a famine coincides with the end  of his funds, and so he is “in want.”  William Tyndale translates it to “he began to lack.”  Eugene Peterson translates that into “he began to hurt.”  I like Peterson’s take – “he began to hurt.”  Recall that this kid has lead a privileged life up to this point and has likely not really ever “hurt” or “lacked” or “been in want,” but here he is experiencing that all alone in a far-off land.  He has no cell phone to call home, no computer to link up with others on social media.

It occurs to me that we’ve all been there, in that moment of hurt, lack, or want, and so has everyone else.  If we haven’t been, we’re gonna be, and even if we have been we may be there again, and again, and again.

It is easy, not having been there, to assume that those who are created their own mess, and even easier to assume that if we aren’t there (any longer) it is because of our own efforts.  All that may be true, or not.  Still, it sucks to be there, and our turn may be next.  It occurs to me that that, in and of itself, is a reason to take a “kinder and gentler” position on this journey through life.  Or, we could just short circuit all that reasoning and be “kinder and gentler” because it is the right thing to do.

Independence.  My dictionary gives these definitions:

• Not dependent (duh!)
• Not subject to control by others
• Not affiliated with a larger controlling unit
• Not requiring or relying on something else

The first two sound good, things worth striving for, though on reflection they seem a bit unrealistic.  I admit, if begrudgingly at times, that am dependent on many people, many things, and that I am ‘subject to the control of others” — judges who tell me when to be where, for instance.  As for the latter two, it seems like life would lose some richness if I was “not affiliated with a larger controlling unit” (though I wouldn’t use exactly those words to describe it).  And let’s admit it — I often require or rely on someone/something else. I bought this computer I am typing on, I didn’t make it myself.

Independence?  Well, there’s still the fireworks and barbecue, and a day off.