What We Remember

In a trial, eyewitnesses are often produced as bringing irrefutable evidence that a certain event happened. Verdicts are sometimes based on what an eyewitness has said. It is important to hear this evidence, but we have to remember that different eyewitnesses of the same event can report various versions based on their perspective, their preconceived notions and even what they hear afterwards. It’s not that they are lying; it is that they see and understand things differently.

I recall several occasions growing up when I talked about a memory and my mother said that it didn’t happen, or at least not in the way I remembered it. I was just as certain in my memory as she was. Was either of us lying? I don’t think so. We each processed events through our own experience. In recalling the past, our own story is shaped in some ways by our desires, and our understanding of what is meaningful for us.

At various times, I have looked back through my life and what I know of my family trying to understand how I grew to be who I am. Each time I look back, I have a slightly different perspective because of what I have learned before and because of the particular lens through which I am looking. When I worked with a Jungian analyst, dreams and symbols throughout my life figured largely. Now that I am looking through the lens of Bowen Family Systems Theory, I see how my family tended to deal with stress and anxiety. Neither story is wrong; they each bring a different perspective.

I think I am still too close to events of the last few years with Jeff to be able to see very clearly. When I am trying to “read the story,” different angles affect the plot line. Is it the story of our love, or the story of answering different calls? Is it cast through our roles as parents—both wannabe and for real? Some of the story lines bring me great joy; some are reminders of pain. They are equally true. They are all a part of our life together.

They are each a factor in who I have come to be, but my past is not the sole determination of who I am, and what my story is. The future and the purpose to which I am called have as much or more to do with my story. The proof of the pudding will be when I stand in awe and worship with the veil removed and see my Creator and Redeemer face to face. Then I will understand what is most important about my story. Until that time I have to be content with an image seen in a mirror.

1 Corinthians 13:12

For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.

Centered, Not Fearing

On Tuesday night, I attended an interfaith dinner. The speakers—Catholic, Protestant, Jewish and Muslim—all spoke about serving God and serving humanity. It was clear that each of us does this best from the position of our own faith tradition. Our goal is not to water down our beliefs to find the least common denominator between ourselves and others, but to be firmly grounded and keep our eyes, ears and hearts open to see the best in the other who is grounded in their own faith.

I was reminded of when Fr. Flavian Burns, former Abbot of Holy Cross Abbey in Berryville told us of when Buddhist monks came for dialogue with the Trappist monks. The Christians in seeking to be hospitable to the Buddhists were tending to downplay their own faith tradition. The leader of the Buddhists said that the best and deepest dialogue would happen when they each spoke from the center of their own tradition.

I also remember learning that those who are closest to the center of their tradition often find that they have more in common with others who are close to the center of a different faith than either have in common with those who are at the edges of their own tradition. Perhaps this is because it is at the edges where often the most extreme positions are found.

At this time of deep division and distrust between people of different persuasions, whether religious, ethnic, national or political, I am convicted of my own tendency to look with disdain and disrespect toward others coming from a different perspective. I do this every time I look at signs for candidates other than those I support and sneer, at least inwardly. Is this how I learn to live and act in the hesed—everlasting mercy of God? Probably not, I think.

I will try in the remaining days of this campaign season not to sneer but to hold the other in the light of God’s mercy. And instead of living in disdain, or even fear, of those who believe differently than I do, I will seek to remember that they are also the children of the God who I believe is the Creator of all.

Matthew 22:37-39

He said to him, “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’

Role and Soul

I spent two days and nights this week at the first of five retreats that will take place over the course of twelve months. These retreats are a time away to reflect and discern. My hope is that these times of reflection and discernment will help deepen my spirit in order to serve more joyfully and fully. Every once in a while I may share some of my reflections that come through the course of this journey as I do today.

On Tuesday morning we were asked to reflect on keeping “role” and “soul” connected. This was part of my written reflection:

“My role is to point myself and others to the One (God) who is the Source, who is Love. In a sense, in my role as pastor/proclaimer, I have to gather in attention onto me but it is not to stay on me. As a guide, I say, ‘look, see, worship, adore.’ Sometimes, I can get in the way. It is tempting to gather the attention and allow it to rest on me, to receive the kudos and keep them for myself. When that happens the relationship is aborted; I am not serving as a midwife to invite birth into a living relationship between the other and the Source. In this I need to guard my spirit from hungering for and desiring praise.  I need to take time sit with the Source--open my ears, my eyes, my heart to hear the music in the silence and then allow the beat/rhythm/melody of the music to infuse my spirit.”

Friends

This week I went with the staff to a workshop on ministry with the poor. During one video clip, Claudio, a pastor in Brazil, talks about theologians defining poverty—a lack of money, of food, of clothes, of housing. Then he posits a situation in which they are told they have lost absolutely everything—all possessions, money, home, family, job, everything. He asks: how long would it be before you could find food? A place to sleep? Work? The answers were minutes to find food; hours to find a place to sleep; and a week or two to find work. Claudio tells them that they are not poor. What the poor lack are friends, and relationships where others help you out.        

Even in the times I have been most alone, and felt the most lost, I have known that I have friends. It is hard to imagine a life without friends, folks who have my back, who are there when I am in need. What poverty it would be to have no one!

While it vital to give material goods—food, shelter, clothing, and more--it is the relationship that is most important. That’s what John Cook of L’Arche said as well when we talked about residences for persons with intellectual disabilities. Offering assistance is important, but the greatest gift is to walk along side someone, to let them know they are seen, and that they are not alone. I am reminded of The Servant Song: “Brother, sister, let me serve you, let me be as Christ to you; pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant too.”[i]

I give thanks for friends who have walked the miles with me over the years, giving up a mission trip to be with me when Jeff died; coming to lead Jeff’s service when recovering from surgery; dropping off a meal en route to the airport to travel across the country. I pray that I can be Christ to them, but also to those who would never expect anything of me.

1 John 3:17

How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?

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[i] ©1977 Scripture in Song; by Richard Gillard.