(begin) We are living through a moment when the world’s great monotheism celebrate their high holy days. I had lunch with a dear friend, and we talked about it. Saralee had to pause during our conversation to check her phone. Her husband suffers from Alzheimer’s, which is another way to say both of them suffer from Alzheimer’s, and the Geek Squad had kindly installed a camera system in her home. Even when outside the house, she can look in and make sure her husband was still all right. Under these conditions, 'all right' must be understood as a relative term.
We got to talking about Passover, which celebrates the ancient time when the Angel of Death passed over the doors of the Hebrews but took the firstborn son of every Egyptian. What could the peasant babies of Egypt have possibly done to deserve that, Saralee asked. What could their mothers and fathers have possibly done?
Then we remember it’s always been this way. Our ancient ancestors huddled on the forest floor every night. They knew that the wolves, lions and panthers, could see in the dark — and were coming for them. Against the ravenous hunger of nature, all we could do was huddle close, hold our babies tight and cry our prayer out into the darkness, 'Please dear God, let them pick somebody else.' On the Passover, God heard their prayer — and picked somebody else.
What if the Jews had given up and just blended in with the Egyptians or any of their other conquerors? Well, where are the Babylonians now?
We see antisemitism rising. It reminds me of when a dangerous hurricane is coming and the sky turns a sickly yellow, and the ocean lies flat and slick like oil … something very bad is surely coming.
I found myself telling Saralee about the Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi’s fantastic cathedral in Barcelona –— La Sagrada Familia. It’s like Mozart because when you hear Mozart, it becomes impossible to imagine someone being able to think such a thing all at once, to hold all the elements in his mind for even a minute. The cathedral is like that. Vines and palm trees intertwine with elaborate sculptures of biblical scenes that encrust the walls like a Hindu temple.
La Sagrada Familia reminds us that you don’t need language to pray. We’re so bewitched with language. We get all tangled up in words. Buddhists recommend silence as an antidote, but Gaudí reminds us that buildings can be prayers … music and dance can be prayers. And in these forms, they are accessible to everyone.
Imagine introducing a Muslim, for example, to Christianity — not with an argument, you know … making a case for it – but with 'Handel’s Messiah' played really loud. No propositions to accept or reject, just the music. You might see tears in the Muslim’s eyes. Tears of recognition. 'My God, so that’s what Jesus makes you feel like?' she’d ask. 'Well, sometimes,' you’d say modestly. I’d imagine you might just sit for a while after that.
Meanwhile, while Christians and Jews are celebrating their high holy days, Muslims are too. Ramadan is happening now also. During Ramadan, you can’t eat or drink from sun-up to sundown — for a month.
Years ago I watched one of my Muslim students playing soccer on a scorching fall afternoon. During and after the game, her teammates were guzzling water and eating oranges, but Amani refrained. I asked her if it might be OK to swizzle some water inside her mouth and spit it out, but she said no. 'That’s not really the idea,' she said.
As we walked back to the locker room after the game, I asked her what she was thinking about while observing Ramadan. 'Well,' she said, 'you know how we run laps to condition our bodies. How do you condition your soul? You know there are things you want to do that you shouldn’t. And there are things we should do that we don’t want to do. How do we develop the willpower to do what is right? Ramadan teaches us.'
We reached the gym and she added this: 'If you can go without food and water every day for a month and still have no compassion for the poor, you’re a lost soul.' Amani was only in eighth grade but I’ve never gotten a better explanation.
The ancients imagined their gods fed on prayers and ceremonies, but we are the ones who need all the ways we can find to be our best selves and to tune ourselves for grace. The project is to be our best selves. Fortunately, there are many ways to do that. (end)
How do we condition our souls? We know there are things we want to do that we shouldn’t. And there are things we should do that we don’t want to do. How do we develop the willpower to do what is right? Ramadan teaches the Muslims. Christianity is supposed to teach us.
How good is our teacher? Do we keep missing class to play hooky? If so, our souls are out of shape. Time to go back to the gym and exercise our minds and spirits. Our coach/instructor we call Jesus awaits us.
Deacon David Pierce
Comments
Post a Comment
Please THINK before you write!