All Things New

Behold, I make all things new. —Revelation 21:5 

In his  Meditations Richard Rohr, reflected on his illness and on his mortality and wrote, "I’ve been comforted by others who have experienced loss and aging with fearless grace. Over the next few days I’ll share some of their thoughts. Today, join me in reflecting on this passage from Quaker teacher and author Parker Palmer’s new book, On the Brink of Everything: Grace, Gravity and Getting Old."

I’m a professional melancholic, and for years my delight in the autumn color show quickly morphed into sadness as I watched the beauty die. Focused on the browning of summer’s green growth, I allowed the prospect of death to eclipse all that’s life-giving about the fall and its sensuous delights. John18: 33b-37 

Then I began to understand a simple fact: all the “falling” that’s going on out there is full of promise. Seeds are being planted and leaves are being composted as earth prepares for yet another uprising of green.

Today, as I weather the late autumn of my own life, I find nature a trustworthy guide. It’s easy to fixate on everything that goes to the ground as time goes by: the disintegration of a relationship, the disappearance of good work well done, the diminishment of a sense of purpose and meaning. But as I’ve come to understand that life “composts” and “seeds” us as autumn does the earth, I’ve seen how possibility gets planted in us even in the hardest of times.

Looking back, I see how the job I lost pushed me to find work that was mine to do, how the “Road Closed” sign turned me toward terrain that I’m glad I traveled, how losses that felt irredeemable forced me to find new sources of meaning. In each of these experiences, it felt as though something was dying, and so it was. Yet deep down, amid all the falling, the seeds of new life were always being silently and lavishly sown. . . .

Perhaps death possesses a grace that we who fear dying, who find it ugly and even obscene, cannot see. How shall we understand nature’s testimony that dying itself—as devastating as we know it can be—contains the hope of a certain beauty?

From Richard Rohr's Center for Action and Contemplation, Death and Resurrection, "All Things New," 11/18/18

Keep awake

 

Keep Awake for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. 

These words have been repeated for over 2,000 years, yet somehow we still fear the end of our life on earth. Sure, we are comforted by the many parallels in nature that reveal death to be a precursor to new life, but the fear of death lingers in the shadows.  We have - or likely have - lived longer than our parents and grandparents.  We are better fed; we lose fewer newborn babies, and modern medicine protects us from contagion and diseases that drastically shortened the of our ancestors... and yet, we are still afraid of dying. The answer to the question why is a discussion group unto itself.

Shortly after 9/11 the words “Fear Not” rang hollow and seemed a little out of place.  Surely we had every reason to be afraid.  After the three devastating attacks, the country held its breath wondering if there were there more to come. During the first few weeks following the attacks, the country was suspended in a state of watchful waiting. We were led to believe that it wasn’t a question of “if” but “when.” We carefully listened to those in authority speak of preparedness, but the summary statement always was, “we just don’t know.” It took a while but in time we began to live our lives with the knowledge that life must go on… but we were implored to remain vigilant and the words “If you see something, say something” became a national mantra. 

 It doesn’t take much to see the connection between our gospel (Mark13:24-37) and that fateful Tuesday which followed a stormy, rain-soaked Monday, leaving the infamous next day with skies so blue and air so clean. What could possibly have gone wrong on such a beautiful day? 

How could we have been prepared for what happened? Had we ever sustained ab enemy attack within our Continental borders during war time, much less peace? How do we begin to replace fear with living fully and please God, joyfully? 

We have learned that Christ's death and resurrection is the answer to our mortal fears. He relinquished his humanity as the divine Incarnation was complete so that we could share in his resurrection and in so doing, remove our reasons to fear death forever. Knowing that God loves us and that there is nothing we can do to ever lose His love is a matter of faith, not intellect. So, we live out our lives enriched by Christ’s example when we resist the impulse to live for ourselves instead of others. It means being prepared to die again and again to ourselves, and to every one of our self-serving opinions and agendas. But about that day or hour... no one knows. But death will have no dominion over us.

As a caterpillar, having come to the end of one blade of grass, draws itself together and reaches out for the next, so the Self, having come to the end of one life shed all ignorance in its faculties and reaches out from the old body to a new. (Upanishads III.4.3)

She gave from her sustenance

 

As the educated class of religious leaders the scribes were regarded as the "professionals" of their time. As such they expected to sit in a reserved place in the temple. In addition to doing nothing for the oppressed, much of their wealth was derived from the poor and the oppressed. This was part of an ongoing much larger criticism that Jesus levies against the temple-based authority that began with the clearing of the Temple earlier. Note, the money referenced is used to fund the Temple’s treasury; it makes no mention of its use to comfort or feed the needy. 

Jesus denounces the scribes for their hypocrisy, as they are seen in all their pompous finery and feigned reverence, and the way in which they amass their wealth.. While the scribes are acknowledged for what they contribute to the treasury from their abundance, the poor widow is blessed for what she contributes from her own need.

Do we need to ask whose contribution is greater? 

I wonder how this message relates to us today. Over the centuries many explanations have been proposed to explain Jesus’ anger with the merchants in the temple and in this reading, the hypocrisy of the scribes. And what about today? I wonder what Jesus would have to say about the church-governing bodies, the high priests, church councils and vestries whose public piety often runs counter to the sharing God’s love. Their focus on the adherence of rituals of worship often serve as distractions for what Jesus wanted for his "church."

Jesus was a radical whose focus was preaching the love of God and not about the man-made rules associated with misguiding the faithful in the name of God. Jesus sought to overturn “the tables” and rid the temples of all the false piety, the purity codes and social rules created in the name of God for the sole purpose of control and power.

The Church does play an important role in our lives primarily because it provides for a communal gathering in which we can proclaim the Gospel and share God’s grace through the sacraments. But the real "church" exists in the "pots and pans" of our lives. It is a dynamic amorphous entity that has no fixed walls and whose very existence is based on doing. In this church we are sent out to look for God in those who need our love and support, as we partner with him to feed the needy and comfort those who are oppressed. Isn’t that the image we should hold for Church?  

Jesus’ anger in this Gospel Mark12:38-44 is directed toward those who use the love of power to control their congregations rather than the power of love to create an environment that sets the stage for the sharing of God’s love. Do we have the courage to overturn the tables as Jesus did and tear down the walls that exclude, and become the Word as the Word become flesh in us?