Holy Saturday ~ Developing An Ability To Grieve

I wrote last year about the darkness of pathless places. Holy Saturday brings us here, as it always does, to look into the depth of emptiness. Why? Most of the contemporary Christian churches diminish or just ignore this day. We crowd it in to a passion play and move quickly to the happy ending. It is hard enough to deal with the tragedy of death and horror of the ordeal of Jesus’ path. It makes it even worse to have to sit and wait, in the unrelenting darkness of grief that comes with Holy Saturday. We just can’t seem to come to terms with it.

Our culture cannot tolerate or honor sustained grief. We demand that the business of it move along and get done. Our patience with those who suffer wears thin and we want them to “get over it”. This inability to allow grief to process is powerful force that plays a major role in much of the depression and chemical dependence that I treat every day in our outpatient clinic. It lies at the bottom of unresolved emotions and unfulfilled actions that have been repressed in a desire to make people believe that “everything is okay”.

We do not always have to be left with comforting words. Sometimes we have to be joined in silence and allowed to wail. There comes a time when the harsh reality of pain, loss and suffering must be experienced. Lincoln understood this as he gave his address at Gettysburg. Whitman grasped it as he wrote “O Captain! My Captain!” A writer named Adolofo Quezada lost a young adult son and lamented his “dreams forever unfulfilled”. After a near breakdown, he came to believe that if he allowed himself to let go and experience all that comes of grief, then and only then, would he find the comfort of new life.

Keeping Quiet ~ by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth
let's not speak in any language,
let's stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines,
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victory with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

Now I'll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

Pablo Neruda (1904-1973), "Keeping Quiet"
Extravagaria (translated by Alastair Reid)
Jonathan Cape, London, 1972, pp.27-29

Feed My Sheep...A Holy Week Reflection

The story of Holy Thursday and early morning Good Friday are so filled with our human experience. It is hard not to identify with what is happening here because it is a story of success, celebration, love, bitterness, confusion, resentment, fear, anger and sadness. The full range of experience is contained in some twelve hours. The most incredible part for me, however, is that even this story ends in complete and unconditional forgiveness. It is among my favorite images.

At the end of the day in all of his human weakness and frailty, Peter denies and betrays his best friend. Not once, but three times. It has been offered up that the third time was in earshot of Jesus and that he turned to meet the eyes his brother. Peter must have expected sad disappointment in that gaze… or some fire of condemnation. Rather, those eyes were filled with compassion, love and understanding. There is a Russian Icon of Jesus that captures that moment which can be found in a book called “Behold The Beauty of The Lord” by Henri Nouwen. I am so moved by this painting. Peter retreats in shame. His forgiveness is reinforced several days later by a risen Christ who recalls the three denials with three questions, “Do you love me?” When these questions are followed by the directive, “Feed my Sheep”, Peter is given charge of the followers.

This is the powerful forgiveness and charge that is given to us today. We are called regardless of who or what we are. Called to rise above that which is ordinary and easy. Called to be useful to others. Called to service. We are frail, broken, tragic and lost…but in the final analysis…forgiven and loved. Forgiven and loved beyond any limitations of our thinking and imagination. This is a truth that we can all celebrate.

Slow Down You Move Too Fast

“Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life” ~ Rachel Carson

We are fascinated by a little inch worm making his way along a twig, a frog sitting on a lily pad, the patterns of frost on the window when we are children. The beautiful details are everywhere and we lie on the front lawn and marvel at them. Clouds have shapes that turn in to Mickey Mouse. Birds all make different songs for us to imitate. We go inside and our parents ask “What have you been doing?” and we can’t even begin to tell them. Don’t they KNOW ?

The problem is that the adults have mostly forgotten. They are too busy with jobs and shopping…cooking and cleaning… being responsible for something or another…to slow down and appreciate the mysteries and miracles around them. They grew up and have taken the details for granted. They think that there is not enough time. A friend told me that she needs peace in her life. Peace is all around us. We only have to lie down on the front lawn to witness it’s awe.

How can I slow down and savor life today?

Happy New Year

"The tumult and the shouting dies;
The captains and the kings depart:
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.”
~ Rudyard Kipling (Recessional Hymn)

It is a new year. Our calendar turns again if only to remind us that we have an opportunity. We may envision a new beginning and enjoin our hopes, dreams and resolutions with those of so many others who are doing the very same thing today. This is the day that we can see the crossroads at which we stand and make a decision that will change the course of our lives. This is the day.

The New Year is the perfect time to ask myself two burning questions:

• When all is said and done...What is important?

Stand back a look at the big picture. You have principles and dreams. Life is too short not to follow and be true to them. Don’t put them aside anymore.

• Are the things that I am doing helping or hurting (myself, the ones that I love, the community at large)?

The impact that you have is immeasurable no matter how insignificant you THINK that you are. Make every moment count.

Everything will be better if you follow these questions in 2008. Life will be good. Explore. Dream and Discover. Change the world today!

"Le present est gros de l'avenir" (The present is big with the future)

Reflection 2007

"An optimist stays up until midnight to see the new year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves" ~ Bill Vaughn

Ringing in a New Year is a tradition that is often filled with celebration. Some of us host parties, are invited to the homes of friends, go out to lavish galas, drink too much champagne and set off fireworks. It is a time to say goodbye and a time to look forward for possibilities. For some others of us it is a time of feeling apart, a time of regrets and resentments, a time to look at what might be coming next with dread. How can this occsdion present such pairs of opposites?

Perhaps we put a little too much emphasis on the endings and beginnings of this annual calendar change…and perhaps not. It is a chance to look at who we are and who we are becoming. It is an opportunity to make changes, offer amends and clean up our mistakes. We can do a lot more than list our resolutions. This is the perfect time to make a spiritual adjustment. Let’s really begin to slow down and live a day at a time. Come to terms with the fact that the past is what it is and that the future is not a reality. Get up in the morning with a clear plan to “do the next right thing” in every situation that we face…and when we don’t…make the adjustment, clear the air and move along. This is how life becomes the celebration that God intends for us to enjoy.

My resolution this year is to truly live a day at a time

A Christmas Memory

Bondurant Place, DeLand, Illinois

Christmas, for me, is among other things a time of fond remembering. Some of my most vivid memories are of the late 1950s and early 1960s celebrations at the country home of the Trenchards, my uncle and aunt, in Deland, Illinois. In the middle of the endless Central Illinois farmland sat Bondurant Place. Named for Uncle Wendell's grandfather, it was nestled among hundreds of trees with a winding driveway. Truly a festive gathering place for my granddad, his nine children and their families.

I remember waking up early to see what Santa brought to our house at 18 West Winter in Danville. Mom and Dad were in their robes and we opened presents and hugged and laughed. It was hard to get me away without taking a favorite something to go on the road to Deland. But by the time we got to Champaign on two lane, snow packed roads, I was anticipating the event at Bondurant Place!

Wendell Trenchard and Bobby Jones

Uncle Wendell would be HO! HO! HOing at a door wrapped with an image of Santa! Aunt Helen would gleefully shriek at our arrival almost as if she didn’t know we were coming. "They're Here! They're Here!" they would exclaim. We were always the first to arrive...except that cousin Joan, her husband Taylor and the boys had spent the night...and had Christmas Eve together. The oldest son, Bon, would be down at the trains in the basement. I was so excited I could burst. People would start coming almost in order! Granddad and his companion Mavie were next, then Aunt Beulah, and then everyone else almost at once and then.....Aunt Nellie, Uncle Lester, Irene and Sarah! Always last...always anticipated with joy! Everyone received the happy "They're Here!" greeting. The smells of turkey and goodies filled the house. The cousins and cousins played and played mostly downstairs. There was no need for lots of toys...but there were plenty of them. We just delighted in each other. We shot each other with Ack Ack Guns, played with the best model train set in the world, looked for spooks in the coal bin, explored the unknown....Every now and then one of the parents or uncles or aunts ventured down for a minute. They knew that we were OK but just wanted to share in the fun! My older cousins could only resist for awhile. We usually got them involved without much struggle!

Grand Dad Jones and some of his brood

Then came the call! Dinner was ready. All of the adults sat at the big table and the younger members at the children’s table. As people moved or died you graduated to the adult table. I never made it. The littlest kids sat in the adjacent sun room next to the kitchen and the older kids sat at the table in the hallway. Everyone hushed and Uncle Wendell called for order. Aunt Nellie said the blessing. Then we got in to the feast. What a feast it always was! Turkey, dressing (traditional and oyster), cranberries, mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls, fancy butter....place cards at every seat made by Aunt Cil....Oh Boy! When the main course was done we got to have special frozen Santa ice cream made just for us and Hickory Nut Cake (We all LOVE Hickory Nut Cake).

There was short a play time while we waited for the next tradition. In a few minutes we would all line up according to age and put our hands on the right shoulder in front of us. Sarah was always in front of me. Granddad Jones was first and held the long strand of Jingle Bells. Uncle Wendell would fire up his lights and movie camera. Then we marched through the house singing "Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle All The Way". Opening presents took forever! Someone would play Santa and bring a present one at a time. The relative would open it and we would all go "Oooh and Ahhh". Then the next one.

FINALLY...we could go and play again! It was back to the basement. Uncle Lester would fall asleep on the couch. The Moms would clean up and the other Dads would play gin rummy. This would be story time in by the fireplace in the basement. I would start with the most horrible ghost story that I had learned that year. Usually Strawn, Penn, Danny, or Debbie would sit on my lap. The room would hush. Terror would fill the room!

Helen Trenchard and Mary Timmons

Now the call would come again! Aunt Helen would have made a special bag of goodies and leftovers for each family. It was time to go home. Sometimes I wanted to cry...but usually I was eager to get home to tell my buddies about "what I got". I could never relate to them that "what I got" at Bondurant Place was more important and more fun than anything that came in a beautifully wrapped box. It was dark and there was snow hanging on every branch. I fell asleep in the back seat of our Chrysler. Happy Family....Happy Christmas

Christmas and Winter Solstice

“Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; The calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to lead them.

The cow and the bear shall be neighbors, together their young shall rest; the lion shall eat hay like the ox.
The baby shall play by the cobra's den, and the child lay his hand on the adder's lair.

There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the LORD, as water covers the sea.”

Today, the winter solstice, is a celebration of light. It is the beginning of Winter in the Northern Hemisphere and of Summer in the Southern Hemisphere. There have been festivals throughout history which mark this “triumph of the sun” since ancient times. Light and illumination are the focus of attention as the seasons give us hope for tomorrow.

It is no coincidence that this is the week of Christmas. We have been marking the days of Advent in anticipation of the miracle of renewed birth. This is our time of joy. The whole atmosphere is infused with joy. Once again we are given the opportunity to do the right thing in response to this light, illumination, hope and joy of Christmas.

How does Jesus appear to young people who die of AIDS, to the millions without employment and social dignity…when children are physically and sexually abused…when women continue in many cultures as subordinates…when ethnic slaughter goes on in Africa, Europe and Asia…when the Earth is ravaged by our excesses? How does light and joy come to these? Jesus, the light of the world comes in the guise of YOU. We have the renewed chance for reconciliation with those who suffer. It is our opening to offer relief to our brothers and sisters who experience material, emotional, social, moral and physical poverty.

How can I illuminate life for others? How can I bring joy, hope and light to the world?