God and Responsibility

 It's spring, according to the calendar, and Mother Nature seems to agree – at least here, anyway. In this part of Arizona, winter often doesn't arrive until after Christmas, and spring is usually about a week or so long. That includes daytime temperatures in the 70s and nights in the 40s or so. Of course, many plants and flowers (often weeds) bloom year-round, like the bougainvillea and occasionally the roses. Still, the orange blossoms usually pop out around the time of J.S. Bach's birthday and the spring equinox. That seems to be when even year-round allergies crest in a king tide of sneezing, nose-running, and eye-watering. Of course, different parts of the country experience it earlier or later, depending on longitude and climate. 

Lent also occurs in spring, which to me seems a bit backward. Lent is supposed to be a time of reflection (which it shares with the wintertime Advent), remorse, and repentance. Somehow it's easier to be those things in winter when the earth is more barren, days are shorter, and nights (and cold spells) seem interminable. In spring, flowers beg us to be happy and grateful for longer days and warmer temperatures. It's hard not to feel lighter and less gloomy in spring.

Today, I've been focusing on my allergies as a Lenten penance. They are the year-round kind but have been raging in the past couple of weeks. I've been having a sneeze-fest and have already gone through one box of Kleenex in the past few days. My nose feels like it's been scraped with sandpaper and is slightly reminiscent of Rudolph in color. In my reflection today, I wondered why God made people allergic to things in nature that were pronounced "good" at their creation. Were Adam and Eve allergic to anything? Were allergies part of Job's tribulation? Did King Saul suffer from migraines caused by allergies? 

Maybe it isn't very serious to reflect on something like allergies, but it leads me to a question plaguing humankind since the beginning. If God made everything, did that include allergies, plagues, war, hatred, suffering, and almost everything that negatively impacts people? I don't hold God responsible for my having cancer, but it's hard not to wonder when I hear of a small, innocent child suffering from the potentially life-ending disease. I hear of fatalities caused by automobile accidents, but I don't blame God. I would guess that 99% of those accidents were caused by some kind of human failure, either from faulty parts, faulty decisions, or false senses of entitlement or immortality. 

Acts of nature in the form of tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, droughts, volcanic eruptions, and tsunamis are things I can't lay in God's lap either. People have a large part to play in climate change, which accounts for things like global warming, catastrophic fires, droughts, and floods. Ancient people blamed God (or their own gods) for catastrophes because they had no idea of why these things happened, so they found a solution to answer their questions and help them understand the world they lived in. 

Many still believe God is responsible for everything, good and bad. Even though we know many diseases are preventable or treatable with antibiotics or various treatments, we still wonder why God would allow such things as strokes, cancer, death in disasters, children being shot while sleeping in their beds, or people dying too young or too quickly. We wonder why aches and pains increase as we age and why some older adults are so grumpy and full of talk of nothing but their aches, pains, illnesses, or medications. Sometimes it would be good to be like children – crying when something hurts but forgetting about it once the pain eases and someone hands them a popsicle or a lollipop. It's easier to distract children from things than elders. 

So what is God's role in all this, and how far can we say God is responsible for things that hurt us, damage us, or make us miserable? All this started with thinking about allergies and was God responsible for those. I can't say I have come to any great insight or even a simple solution other than allergies are what they are. Sometimes I can see a reason for disasters, such as earthquakes causing tsunamis or dam failures, or weather systems causing flooding, major wind storms, and the like. 

God's role is to be present to those in need. God inspires helpers who, even at risk to themselves, rush in when others run out. God listens to prayers and supplications, sending grace and often comfort in times of need. God's visibility is dependent on eyes to see those who help others, like first responders or simply bystanders who lend a hand to someone in need. We are God's hands and feet on earth. Just as God made Adam and Eve stewards of the Garden, we are the inheritors and caregivers of all around us. 

Compared to lots of folks, I have little to complain about. Just spending some time thinking of what others are facing, I feel rather petty about complaining about allergies and a sore nose. I have learned over the years that it is much healthier to tell God what's on my mind, lay it in God's lap, and leave it there unless I experience an insight or revelation of how to resolve whatever it is. And God inspired someone to discover anti-allergenics to help with sneezes, runny noses, and watery eyes. All I have to do is get some. 

God must have similar resolutions for other things we haven't found yet. It may take a couple of centuries, or it may come tomorrow, and it just takes patience and trust.

Pardon me while I get another box of Kleenex. 

God bless.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, March 26, 2022

I See the Moon

The moon visited me the other night. I woke up in the wee small hours of the morning to see a strange light shining through a tiny slit in the Venetian blinds. I didn't remember a streetlight being in that location, so I got up and looked closer. Lo and behold, it was the moon -- or most of it. It was short of being full, but it was mostly there and shining brightly. I went back to bed but now and then opened my eyes and was able to still see it, only as its proper self, not some imitation electric globe. Somehow, it was very comforting to see that moon shining in my window as if it knew I was restless and couldn't seem to settle into sleep. Shortly after finding it with my eyes, those same eyes closed, and I slept soundly until the cats woke me up with breakfast demands. 

The moon is the balance to the sun, which gives light by day. The moon has many uses as a calendar marker, an influencer of tides, a night light, and an object of wonder and exploration. The date of Easter, one of the holiest celebrations of the Christian year, is based on the Sunday after the full moon on or after March 21. If the full moon falls on Sunday, Easter is celebrated the following Sunday. The Jewish festival of Passover is the 15th day of the lunar month of Nisan, frequently close to the date of Easter. Muslims celebrate Ramadan, a month of fasting and prayer, beginning on the day after the rising of the new moon in the ninth month of their lunar calendar. 

Lunar calendars are based on months or weeks between full moons. Occasionally, we will have a Blue moon -- an unusual and infrequent occurrence. Full moons also affect tides, and there are months when the moon is closest to the earth, which causes higher than usual tides. 

During the Exodus from Egypt, the Israelites had a pillar of cloud to guide them by day, but the moon and a pillar of fire at night. Why would they move at night when it would be much easier by daylight? When the sun is closer to earth in the desert, the heat can be blistering. Travel by night is cooler, and navigation is easier even without a pillar of fire. The Magi traveled at night because they were following a particular, very bright star, one that would not be wiped out by the moon, even at its brightest. 

At least for me, the moon is a comfort and a friend. Its light often softens sharp edges and angles and brings out birds and animals that sleep by day and feed or hunt by night. Sound seems to travel further in the dark, and everyday sounds are either muffled or absent because the night is a time of rest and sleep for half of the world at a time. 

Thinking of Genesis, when the stories tell us of God creating the light of day and the dark of night and the forming of the sun and moon, it was like the beginning of time. The sun and moon revolve on their axes, but their compositions are different. The sun, the burning ball of fire, has no dark side, but the moon, the cold dark world closest to us, does indeed have a side that never sees the sun. When the moon is not shining in the sky, we call it the dark of the moon and wait for the next phase, the new moon, on its way to the full and then waning phases. 

I think of the night Jesus spent in Gethsemane, praying to have the strength to do what God had asked him to do. I hope the moon was there, keeping watch while the disciples slept, leaving Jesus all alone. During his time in the wilderness just after his baptism, perhaps the moon gave him some comfort and respite from the heat of the day and the temptations of HaSatan. 

I think the moon should be part of my Lenten meditations. I have loved it since I was a child, and I still love it. I am grateful to God for providing this time of rest and relative peace, with a glowing reminder of God's eternal presence, even in the dark, whether physical darkness or an internal one. 

As an old childhood prayer comes to my mind, "I see the moon, and the moon sees me. God bless the moon, and God bless me." It's as true today as it was then, thank God.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, March 19, 2022. 

Life and Roller Coasters

 

I can't speak for anyone else, but thinking about life this week has led me to conclude that it's like a decades-long roller coaster ride. Now, I have a love-hate relationship with roller coasters. It took me a long time to conquer my fear and first ride one, but that same night I rode the thing a dozen times, enjoying it more every time. I've ridden many others since then, enough to feel I can make the comparison between life and roller-coaster rides.

The thing about coasters is that they are always going up and then going down, with an occasional high-speed curve and maybe a total 360° loop in there somewhere. If I'm watching someone riding on a coaster on TV, I notice I always catch my breath when they reach the top of the track and then face the downward part. That's how I remember riding them myself. I also notice that the higher the uphill part goes (and the slower it goes), the downhill is much faster, steeper, scarier, and often longer. That's what makes them fun, if a bit terrifying at times.

When I say life is something like one of these amusement park rides, I mean that when I look back on my life, I see times of great happiness and success (the uphill side) and great sorrow, fear, anxiety, and depression as life seems to plunge out of control before another small hill pops up.

Now that we are in Lent, we expect that life is not supposed to be a thrilling ride. We're supposed to feel reflection, remorse, and repentance, but occasional flashes of joy and pleasure are built in. Babies are born, and that becomes a time of joy, Lent or not. Grief also comes, and Lent seems much darker than usual. This year, we are still coping with COVID and its variants. We also see pictures of innocent Ukrainians fleeing their homeland in search of safety. They are carrying their most precious things – their children, their pets, perhaps an icon or a family heirloom, and, I'm sure, many look back as Lot's wife did, looking for one last time at the wreckage of the cities and towns in which they lived and worked.

It breaks our hearts to see such pictures and the refugees' suffering. I wonder, though, did we have such empathy with the Afghani people under similar circumstances? They too left with what they could carry, including many of the same things the Ukrainians did but were countries outside the area lining up to offer them refuge? Does this particular dip in the roller coaster ride of time have a religious component built into it?

Something else I saw this week online was a comparison of US citizens sitting in their expensive cars, watching Facebook and Twitter on their $1000+ telephones, and taking their refuge in their costly homes in "nice" neighborhoods, complaining about still having to wear masks at times and the skyrocketing cost of gasoline. Compare that to the Ukrainians walking as far and as fast as possible for safety as their country is bombed and shelled around them. Who has more reason to complain? Besides the pictures of destruction, there are also pictures of people staying and even returning to their homeland to defend it from invaders. I had tears in my eyes when I saw a picture of an older woman, on her belly in the grass, pointing a rifle and giving every appearance of planning to stay there as long as necessary. God bless her and all the others who stand and fight, as well as those who flee to save the lives of their families.

We're only in the first full week of Lent, but I'm already wondering when the downward rush will end and how it will all turn out. I know I'm not the only one praying for peace and safety and for a sign that the bottom of the hill will not be a total crash. Other things are going on in the world we need to keep in our awareness, and people around us who have needs we can supply or bring to the attention of those who can help if we are unable.

Spring is coming, so the roller coaster will go up a bit with the warmer weather and the blooming trees and flowers. Like the cars on the coaster, Lent will come to an end before starting up again, this time with the joyousness of Easter. There will still be giant hills and steep slopes in our lives, but we will have hopefully grown through the process.

May we all find this Lent to be a blessing, even if in disguise.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, March 12, 2022.

The Blessings of Lent

 I know it isn't happening everywhere or to everyone, but it seems like this year is going by fairly quickly, even if the individual days or weeks may seem to be interminable at times. It's Lent already, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it. 

Lent is a penitential liturgical season, focusing on reflection, remorse, and acts of repentance. There are days (like Ash Wednesday and Fridays) where we are encouraged to show our repentance by fasting, particularly from eating meat and giving up something we enjoy eating or doing (like eating chocolate or drinking beer or coffee). We are also encouraged to take on extra spiritual duties, like additional times of prayer, reading spiritual books, attending study groups at church, or performing acts of charity in addition to any we may already be doing. The whole focus is to develop ourselves spiritually and to recall that Jesus often did these same activities as part of his ministry. In short, we are encouraged to be more like Jesus.

Many people don't really "get" the idea of Lent. They will give up things like chocolate or only eat fish or vegetarian (sometimes vegan dishes) on Fridays. Jews fast on special holy days such as Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, and other days listed in Jewish calendars marked for fasts. Muslims fast from dawn to sunset every day during the holy month of Ramadan and three days every month. Hindus restrict themselves to vegetarian meals and fast Monday and Saturday during July and August. Fasting is not strictly a Christian practice, but Christians often undertake Lent as a time for fasting in remembrance of Jesus's forty days in the wilderness just after his baptism.

This week, I've been perusing the thought that there's more to Lent than gloom, doom, and mental (or physical) flagellation. Take Sunday, for example. The forty days of Lent only include Monday thru Saturday. Like every Sunday in the Christian calendar, Sunday is a day of remembrance of Jesus's resurrection. We celebrate the Eucharist on Sundays. Although the music during Lent is more somber and the readings a little more penitential, we still have Sunday as a kind of day off from regular Lenten disciplines.

Also, when we observe Lent, that doesn't prevent us from looking out at God's world and seeing the beauty and joy of nature. It's the season of birth, and the sight of bouncing baby lambs, kids, and calves can't help but raise our spirits and make us thankful. Trees begin budding, and flowers pop up, even snowdrops and narcissi pushing their heads out of snowbanks to reach the sun. 

Although this Lent is bruised and battered by thoughts of things going on in Ukraine and other places worldwide. During Lent 2021, we were in the throes of COVID and wondered if it would ever end. It still hasn't completely vanished, but we are freer to gather, pray, and celebrate together than we have been for many months. We pray earnestly for relief from illness, natural disasters (like Tonga), and war. We ask for God's blessings on those who suffer in any way and God's help in bringing peace and comfort to the world. 

While we ask for blessings and healing, we also need to be grateful for things we often forget to mention in our prayers. We should be thankful for those of us with roofs over our heads, health, employment, transportation to where we want and need to go, and violence-free streets and neighborhood. We pray for first responders and service workers who put their lives on the line to keep us safe, healthcare workers who are exhausted but still struggling to save lives, and those who try to keep our supply lines moving and our stores stocked with food and other necessities. We can be grateful for our four-footed friends who often seem like lifelines and who love us unconditionally. We should never forget to be thankful for those we love and who love us. The list of "gratitudes" could (and should) go on forever.

So this Lent, let us be mindful not only of what we lack in our spiritual lives, the things for which we should be repentant, and the ways to show that repentance, but also for things we need to remember to be grateful. It's another way to live a more Christian life and a fuller one through Lent. After all, Easter is only about seven weeks away!

This week, think of Lent as a blessing, not a burden.