Second Tuesday of Advent
Gospel: Matt 18:12-14
“Do not be discouraged. The Holy Spirit is not asleep.”
– Thomas Merton, in a letter to Daniel Berrigan, 1964
I have struggled, trying to write a piece on Holding Out the Light at a time when most nights I wake up about 2 am, heart pounding, thinking of vulnerable people in my life and the threats to their well-being in the aftermath of the election.
My topic is supposed to be the Lost Sheep. I’m thinking about gay sheep, trans sheep, immigrant sheep, black sheep, Jewish sheep, autistic sheep, ageing sheep, medically vulnerable sheep. You likely have a list like that of your own, or maybe you are on it yourself. How about the frightened, confused sheep – maybe angry, racist, xenophobic sheep – whose votes will bring the sky down on their own heads along with those they hoped to exclude, to harm. That compassion extends to us all – we’re all the lost sheep, that God just wants to draw in, to give life to, to nurture, to see grow.
In this moment, struggling to find hope, I find it’s my own inner light that is that lost sheep. That inner light that makes it possible to keep on going, keep on trying, keep on loving, loving, loving.
So how do I be a loving shepherd to my own inner lost sheep, my own light?
When I wake up in the night and realize I’m not going back to sleep any time soon – heart pounding, thoughts churning – I get up. I go down to the kitchen and make a cup of hot milk, and bring it upstairs to my study.
The study was my youngest daughter’s room before she flew the nest, some years ago. The mural she started is still on the wall. I sit in the rocking chair that was my Mom’s, wrap myself in a shawl that was a gift from a friend. Surrounded by reminders of loved ones, drinking my hot milk, I try to journal but all that will come out is, “Help.”
My eye falls on the several piles of books at my feet, waiting to be read. Elizabeth Johnson. Bayo Akomulafe. Chris Schenk. Hannah Arendt. A whole stack of Merton. So much wisdom waiting to be shared, there for the delving.
I look around the room, books full of voices – some dead – some long dead – some living. Some friends. Teachers. CS Lewis. Howard Thurman. Oscar Romero. Jeanette Rodriquez. Bill Herzog, Ched Myers. Elizabeth Schussler Fiorenza. Jurgen Moltmann. Dorothee Solle. Hafiz. Mary Oliver. Shane Claiborne. So many God-lovers, life-lovers, light-lovers. There is more to the world than this moment in time.
Connect with community – in the here and now, in flesh and blood – and in the communion of saints, the cloud of witness. There is wisdom and joy and light in the world: it’s real, it’s good, it’s not going away. Tap into it to feed your soul. We are in this together – in this moment, and through history. We are not alone.
Ba-a-a-a-a!
Rev. Chava Redonnet is the pastor of Oscar Romero Inclusive Catholic Church.