A Song Worth Singing

I woke up this morning thinking of the word co-creation. In any good relationship, we are called to co-create with one another. That includes our relationship with the Sacred. God is always creating, and is always willing to be in partnership with us if we make room for God to move with us. 

A few days ago, I visited a skilled nursing community.  Here, we must take a Covid test which means waiting 15 minutes before entering the community further than the reception area. I do not find that time unpleasant, and the pause means that the volunteer and I have some time just to talk and  "catch our breath" as my mother would say. 

Our tests revealed that we did not have Covid and we walked around the corner and stepped into the hallway together. The only person in the hall was Pamela who was singing a Beatles' song with full voice. The volunteer and I joined her in song as we opened the door to the activity room.  The three of us entered with laughter.  

A new musical key was invented that day, but I don't think Pamela gets too involved with such details as staying in tune.  I know nothing of her story, but I suspect that poverty and poor health care have played a part. She is a double amputee and is missing many teeth. Yet, she seems to contain a wholeness  that is worth emulating. I do know she loves to color, and she uses bright colors with abandon. 

The vision of her singing in an empty hallway stays with me. I think she is a rare bird with a song worth joining.  That is what God calls us to do.   

     

    

She says she loves you
And you know that can't be bad
Yes, she loves you
And you know you should be glad-  

John Lennon and Paul McCartney   

   

photograph: from my front yard, October 2021 

Deep Language

 Some care communities have some stringent steps one must go through to visit. We must answer questions about our vaccination status and where we have recently traveled and with whom  we have been in contact with. Temperatures are taken. Sometimes I am asked to take off my personal mask and put on a disposable one. Sometimes I must don a face shield. Only then, can I pass by the front desk, which now is invariably behind plexiglass. Everything seems a bit muffled and distant.  If someone smiles, it is sensed more than seen.  Often,  there is a weariness present that is palpable.   

This week, I was in one of those communities. How happy I was to see the activity director walking towards me. She is one who smiles, and no mask can hide the fact that she is smiling. She tells me that Barbara cannot join us because she is expecting her daughter. We walk past Barbara's room, and I wave at her. I ask if I can step in to talk with her for a moment. She is quite hard of hearing, so having a conversation at a distance is impossible.  The activity director assured me that would be fine. 

Barbara seemed not to recognize me until she saw my Bible. She then exclaimed in her gravelly voice, "Oh, yes!"  She spreads her arms wide and reaches out from her wheelchair to give me a hug. I find her delightful. She loves God, and that love pours out on  those she comes into contact with. She apologizes for not being able to join me today. I assure her that a daughter's visit is important. We bless one another, and I travel on to the activity room, where I am greeted with another hug. This time, it is from Estelle  who speaks very little English. The activity director often translates for her, including my prayers.  I laugh and tell the director that God's love translates quite well.  She agreed. 

As I walk back down the hall to visit another community, I see Barbara leaning close to her daughter. They are in an earnest conversation. I walk by unnoticed, and that is how it should be. 

I think a lot about faith when I cross these thresholds because I sense our being anointed by a  love that simply cannot be contained. It spills out everywhere. It cannot be masked or  measured.  I hear it in the laughter and I sense it in the weariness.  I feel it when we open our Bibles and help one another find our way to the same page.       

   

Image: Sonoma State University, June 2015

Relating

I needed to see the post below about forgiveness this morning. Maybe every morning. Father Freeman also reminds me that the real purpose of meditation is to let the meditation usher in a whole new way of being. "It helps us see that the place we should look for the fruits of meditation is not the meditation period itself - what happens (or doesn't) but in the manner and quality of our lives, particularly in our relationships." * We see this in Jesus, who would go to a mountain top, or across the lake, or into the desert. He always returned to the people. For most of us, this is our call. He also reminded people to forgive. Forgiveness and healing go hand in hand. 

'So our first responsibility, if we want to be in relationship and we want that relationship to be a healthy one and a healing one and a caring one for the people we are in relationship with, our first responsibility to others is to be as healthy and as happy as we can be ourselves. And that involves not being too hard on ourselves when we fail. In other words, we incorporate the sense of failure into our practice and learn from failure." **

 

   

   

*Jesus the Teacher Within, Laurence Freeman, copyright 2003, p. 199   

 

**Laurence Freeman, OSB, World Community for Christian Meditation,  Daily Digest, October 8, 2021 

image: San Leandro, September 2021