Thursday, November 7, 2013

Celebrating the little happy hours...

Today is cool and rainy in the Berkshires - a portent of the dark to come - and a break from outward living.  This morning's reading from Scripture was taken from Romans: whether I live or whether I die I am of the Lord.  It is an invitation to trust that no matter what I feel today - or experience or think - I am not separate from God. God is with and within me always. The question the monks ask is: what attachments do I have that keep me from resting in the Lord always?

Busyness is certainly one and try as I might I find myself letting my days become cluttered with meetings and visits and "important things." Most of them are not a waste of time - they all have value on their own - but when rolled together can feel oppressive. Certainly wearying - a theme I have addressed many times before, yes? An old monk once said to me, "When you are feeling like this, remember that's why God invented happy hours!"  Well, given the rampant alcoholism/addictions in my family I have learned to take this wisdom with a grain of salt (and, perhaps a glass of red wine, too.) But beyond the alcohol, there are deeper truths.

"Even cowgirls get the blues," wrote Tim Robbins as a reminder that even in the middle of a wonderful life there are holes and wounds. The poet/folk singer, Bob Franke, captured this truth beautifully in his song, "For Real" that ends with the verse:  Some say God is a lover, some say an endless void; some say both, some say She's angry and some say just annoyed. But if God felt a hammer in the palm of his hands, then God knows the way we feel, and love lasts forever... forever and for real. There are ups and downs and in-betweens in my life and yours but nothing separates us from the love of God.
The other insight I claimed from the "happy hour" invitation is that in the middle of every day there are small moments of beauty that we can either celebrate or ignore:  mini-happy hours that pop up beyond our control or power.  Over time, how we respond to these small signs of beauty become deep habits and world views that train us in cynicism or love. We become cranks or poets - people of heart and soul or those who are blind to the beauty all around us.  When I am weary or afraid, I find my eyes to see the Lord in these mini-happy hours becoming weaker. That's a clue to do what Jesus did - step away from the busyness - and become still for a time.  (That won't happen much today except in small doses, but a bit of silent retreat is clearly coming for me.)

Yesterday, for example, a moving portrait of Christ's spirit broke into my world via the picture of Pope Francis I embracing a profoundly disfigured man.  In a New York minute tears became my prayer and I gave thanks to God that Francis is giving shape and form to the true heart of the Gospel in our era. I also gave thanks that this image awakened me from my own fretting for a moment.  So I shared this picture with others and some had a similar reaction to mine.  A few, however, offered more harsh and even critical reactions:  was the man healed? did the Pope bring him into his home? I guess there is room for cynics in every age and culture, yes?  I just don't have much space for their black holes in my living these days... 

So today I want to practice simply receiving any and all criticism and cynicism without comment; I will be present for them and then let them fall to the ground without time or comment. I will also return thanks for the little happy hours that pop up, too.  Life is too short for anything less and there are too many places where beauty and tenderness can prosper and be nurtured.  Indeed, whether I live or whether I die I am of the Lord.




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