|
Unsettled Times December 2005
This week's news reports include the shooting of a suspected terrorist by U.S. Air Marshals, a volcanic eruption in the South Pacific, and last night, an airliner landing at Chicago's Midway International Airport in heavy snow, slid off the runway and stopped on a street adjacent to the airport. This morning we learned that a child had been killed in the accident. Meanwhile, Saddam Hussein's trial continues without him because he refuses to come to court, more U.S. troops are being killed in Iraq and the clean up from multiple natural disasters continues in the Southern United States, Pakistan, Central America and Indonesia. It is difficult, even if our lives are only lightly touched by these stories, to remember that we are in the middle of Advent, the preparatory days before Christmas in which we consider the changes the coming Messiah will make in our lives and the world.
As I sit at my kitchen table with my coffee cup close by, my radiators are whistling and hissing, and show is falling as far as I can see our my windows. I'm thinking that Mary and Joseph were probably about to set out on the road to Bethlehem, or were already on their way by this point. Short as that trip would be for us, for them it was a major undertaking, and one filled with uncertainty. At best, they were traveling across uneven terrain, camping each night, and living on simple, easy-to-carry foods. The worst case scenario could have included premature labor, an injured donkey, dust storms and run-ins with criminals. Still, they made the journey. Taxation, then and now, is a fact of life, and their government demanded that they return to their ancestral home to be counted in the census that would create the basis for the tax structure.
Thinking about their journey, I also remember the brutality of their world. Taxation was debilitating, the climate was harsh, unyielding to civilization, and what little people had was easily crushed or carried away by agents of Roman rulers who barely tolerated Jewish religious practices. Herod, king at the time Mary and Joseph started this trip, was cruel to the point of murdering his own family members. Common people had no say, no vote, and no hope. What they had was generally a minimal, miserable existence.
But somehow, out of that culture, we have this story, this image of hope, as these people do what they have to do to keep their lives together. They make this journey, escape the tyranny of an insane man killing off young children across the whole country, and go on to raise their child, continue paying taxes and doing their work. Worship was a part of their lives too, and the center of their faith was that the Messiah would come. How or when was not a given, but the hope and the promise. Holding onto that hope and promise is what we remember them for best.
The world has always balanced between brutal reality and the hope and the promise. Mary and Joseph set off on their journey as two, and came home as three, literally making space in their home and lives for another person. Many parents before and after them have made the same provisions. Perhaps they wondered whether the world into which their child arrived was fit for new life. Many parents before and after them have wondered the same thing, but are perhaps now wondering how to make sure this new chance at life in their daughter or son knows more than the brutality of the world, knows also the hope and the promise.
How do we keep that hope and promise alive, and how do we share that with the children of our world? First we must keep the story itself alive, and we must keep telling it, and telling it, and telling it some more, in as many ways as we can. And then, we must make room for this story of hope and promise in our lives, and keep making room, over and over and over again, in as many ways as we can.
The Diaspora Soul of the City of New Orleans September 2005
News coverage continues regarding the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, albeit much more hopeful than even a week ago.
While supplies and volunteers move into the regions of Mississippi and Louisiana in need of support, the residents of New Orleans are being dispersed across the country, literally, to wherever open arms are ready to receive them. Texas, Minnesota, California, Ohio, Tennessee, New York and Rhode Island are only a few of the states which will be hearing the sweet Southern drawl of a weary people who cannot go home. They, quite literally, now must walk by faith, and trust that we who are caring for them are living by ours. The United States and the world have responded generously to give shelter and strength to people who are bereft of the former and drained of the latter. We care enough to share our resources, material and emotional, with people who mostly ache for home, something we cannot provide in the way that they have identified it their whole lives.
Acclaimed actor Morgan Freeman addressed this issue with Charlie Rose of PBS earlier this week. Referencing his childhood sense of safety in his hometown in the state of Mississippi, rekindled as he visited his aging parents in the late 1970's, Mr. Freeman decided to return home permanently. He spoke intently of how he really had a whole village raise him, and that it really took a village. As a native Southerner, and having come to this public venue to continue to draw attention to hurricane relief, Mr. Rose directed the conversation to the recovery and rebuilding of the City of New Orleans. A deep stillness came across Mr. Freeman's face as he said, "If it can be." Mr. Freeman went on to say, with a deeply felt knowing in his voice, that it was important to remember that it is people's souls that create a village, a community.
So the equally important question we must now ask ourselves is, as did Mr. Freeman in this interview, how is it with the souls of the people of New Orleans? With the City of New Orleans now living in diaspora, we who are not displaced from our homes are entrusted with more than physical maintenance. We have accepted a new calling, a new vocation, that of caretaker of souls. With mercy, tenderness and grace, we are now in the position to welcome our fellow villagers into our homes, but we must also realize that we are being welcomed into their homes. We will learn, meal by meal, conversation by conversation, story by story, and hope by hope, what it means to be a New Orleanian, to celebrate that rich history, to be privy to its intimate pleasures and passions. We have been given both the great luxury, and the obligation, to experience New Orleans through the souls of its people.
As days go by, and months and years, and the city comes back to itself, it will be through the people that the true nature of the city will be revived. When this time comes, know also that our histories will be interwoven in the oral history of this city. Even now we are more than caretakers of the soul of New Orleans. We are part of the soul of New Orleans itself.
Searching for the Kingdom June 2006
Henry Mora saw an opportunity and seized the day.
A gold detector tested positive near the patio in the front yard of his Montclair, California, home and he figured this might be something big. So he grabbed a shovel and started digging. While he only intended to go down three or four feet, ten days and sixty feet later the Montclair Fire Department showed up, sidestepped the hole and shut down the whole operation. The hole was as deep as it was going to get and no significant amount of gold had been discovered. The city officials commented that the homeowner had gotten carried away and they were lucky that no one had gotten hurt in the process. The hole has been fenced off and Mora is required to work with a civil engineer to correct the situation. Interesting that a hole could cause such a stir.
I've wondered a time or two if Jesus based his parable about the kingdom of heaven being like treasure buried in a field on a real-life event, or if he discovered the image buried in his own imagination. The gospel stories of the Biblical-era Henry Mora are simple and to the point. "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field (Matthew 13:44)." Apparently the main character in the parable was a little more adventuresome, or a little more crazy than Mr. Mora. At least our modern-day treasure hunter already owned the land on which he was digging and didn't risk everything on an expedition that turned out to give him nothing back. And therein lies the question. When are we supposed to take risks with our lives and when are we supposed to stop digging, fill up the hole and go home?
Questions are a good place to start regarding Jesus' parables. He taught using these compact, seemingly-obvious lessons to draw people in and then encourage them to really think about how the stories spoke to their faith and informed their lives. The people with whom Jesus conducted his ministry were from a variety of backgrounds. Some were farmers, others were shepherds or tradespeople. Those differences didn't matter because everyone living in the Roman Empire in the first century understood who was in charge. Rome's kingdom stretched far and wide, fully beyond most people's comprehension.
But when Jesus spoke of a kingdom of heaven, people wanted to know what that meant. Would God's kingdom be like Rome's? That couldn't possibly be, so they asked Jesus, and themselves, what a kingdom with God as ruler would be like. Establishing that God's kingdom would be based in justice, mercy and love, all good things, the hunt to find the kingdom of heaven, wherever it may be, was on. Where should they look? Where should they start? Eventually these questions would bring them to Jesus' simple affirmation that the kingdom of heaven was already among them. But how could something so glorious be here on earth, especially an earth they mostly knew to be harsh, painful and oppressive?
Jesus gives them several examples, one of which is to see that the kingdom of heaven is so precious and rare that someone's joy in discovering it makes them act in ways that the world would describe as crazy. The kingdom of heaven is a treasure, hidden away on a piece of property that this person discovers by chance. But they recognize what it is, hide it again, and come back with every asset they have laid on the table to buy the land that holds the treasure. We don't know what happened after that, but we do know the original owner wasn't aware of the wealth their land held. Some people seem to be able to see the kingdom of heaven, know its true worth and be willing to put everything they have into making it their own. Seeing it and not realizing what it is would do the person no good. Neither would seeing it and recognizing its worth without being willing to stake everything on buying it. Awareness, recognition and investment, risking it all, is the way to discovering the kingdom of heaven. Faith is the answer if you have asked the right questions, and works embody that faith fully and deeply.
Henry Mora hasn't mentioned whether he was seeking more than gold in digging his front yard hole. If he was he is honoring the Biblical tradition of inner joy and outer silence. Seeking the kingdom of heaven is to be first on our list, and we are told that everything else will follow. Henry Mora's story is a modern reminder, a parable for today that tells us to pay attention, recognize God's kingdom and its priceless value when we see it and to be willing to give everything we have to claim it as our own. It doesn't matter how high the risk is of our friends and neighbors thinking we are crazy. Chances are they owned the land in the first place.
Interested in really living by what you believe? Join the Creating Women Ministries Faith Forum and receive the free Special Reprot, "7 Ways to Bring Authentic, Meaningful Faith Into Your Daily life." Click on this link to join right now: http://www.creatingwomenministries.com.
|
