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Showing posts with label empathy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label empathy. Show all posts

Sunday, August 21, 2022

Make a straight path--some thoughts on Hebrews 12 (21st Sunday in Ordinary Time)

“So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak
knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that

what is lame may not be disjointed but healed.”

--Hebrews 12:12-13

 

The voice of one crying in the wilderness: make straight the way…  When I hear this phrase, I always think of John the Baptist and the baptism of our Lord (cf. Mk 1:3; MT 3:3, etc).  I always imagine a bony finger pointing toward the desert, or a raging fist shaking against the horizon, and a prophetic cry to clear the way—God is coming!   For me, this image usually comes with locust and honey and a scraggly beard.  But today as I was studying the mass readings for this Sunday (21st Sunday in Ordinary Time), I suddenly heard something new in the text.  I didn’t hear a warning, or a challenge, I heard a kind of invitation, and a curious note of compassion; concern for the traveler.  And that opened my eyes and my ears to see and hear this image in a new way. A way touched by concern not just for the honor and glory of God, but also for those who struggle with their faith journey, for those who may stumble along the way.

 

Before I go any further, let me say a word about the Letter to the Hebrews.  First, we do not know who the author was, though some have speculated it was written by Paul or one of his followers.  Second, though it is often called the Letter to the Hebrews, scholars now refer to it not as a letter, but as a sermon.  And last, it is one of the most influential “letters” of the New Testament, a powerful influence on both Christian theology and the liturgy of the church.  This is the book that develops the theology of Jesus as high priest, and employs the visionary image of the community of believers as a “cloud of witnesses.” If you have never read it, I highly recommend you set aside a little time and read it through.  It can easily be read in one sitting—probably less than an hour.  You will find it an inspiring book, reverberating in your soul long after you finish; perhaps the rest of your life.

 

I don’t have anything profound to say about this verse, only that I was deeply touched by the way it brought together the prophetic call to make a straight way with the detail of an injury.  It humanized the call for me, and made it personal.  That concern for weak knees and drooping hands, speaks to my heart.  I often feel exhausted in both my faith life and my family life (forget about work).  And so, that call to renew my strength and to be careful and avoid turning a minor injury into something worse, made me stop and think.  This verse, this prophetic cry, it has a real life application.  When we are feeling overwhelmed, weak, exhausted, we need to be careful, to give ourself grace, and let our strength be renewed, so that we can continue our journey.  What I hear in this is good coaching. It is a word of encouragement wrapped around some good advice:  You can do this.  It isn’t going to be easy, but you got this.  Be careful. Pickup your feet, and take it slow and steady. Walk a straight path and you won’t get lost, and it will be easier on your knees. Don’t overdue it or start walking just any which way. That’s how you got hurt in the first place and that’s how you make things worse: you’ll end up disjointed.

 

Yes. But I also hear the coach telling me—this isn’t just about you!  Make a straight path.  Others will follow. You don’t want to lead them into the ditch or out into the wilderness. Just walk the straight path; and know that with every step you take will make it that much easier for the person behind you. That straight path in the wilderness that Isaiah and John the Baptist proclaimed, was a prophecy of the coming of the messiah.  But in the light of Jesus’s life and sacrifice, it becomes a prophetic call to live that path, to become that path of kindness and compassion, to live a life of hope and peace and simplicity and love for your neighbor—even the ones you don’t know or notice. What I am hearing is this: the straight path isn’t a geographic or geometric line, it is a line that runs straight through every human heart. Walk that line. Walk that path with care not just for yourself and your reputation, but with concern and compassion for those that walk with you and those who will come after you.  Make straight the path not just for the sake of your own weak and crackly knees, but for the sake of those who will come later, with their own infirmities and injuries, souls who may find themselves struggling in ways I could never imagine.

 

What I hear most decidedly is a call to clear away every obstacle you can, that those who follow will find a path clear and straight and smooth and paved with love.

Monday, June 15, 2020

Please see me--Some thoughts on Lamentations 1:12


“All you who pass this way,
look and see
is any sorrow like the sorrow
inflicted on me…”
--Lamentations 1:12


Is this not the cry of all who are in pain?  Look!  Look at this!  Have you ever seen anything like this?  See!  See my pain. See me.  Please look and see me, see what has happened to me. Has anyone ever like this before? 

See! See what happened!  Please.  Think of the child with her first skinned knee rushing to her mother; is she not calling out for more than healing or medical attention?  Think of the drama of that cry, those tears.  Isn’t her cry also a cry pleading for attention. A cry demanding to be seen.  See!  See what has happened to me.  Has anything like this ever happened before?

And, isn’t it true? Isn’t every pain the first of its kind? Each of us is an individual, unlike any other person ever made.  I cannot feel your pain, no matter how empathetic I am.  You cannot feel my pain. I cannot know what it means to you to be hurt, to be lonely, to be broken hearted or broken armed?  In Merchant of Venice, Shylock famously proclaims a universal connection through suffering: If you prick us, do we not bleed?  And yes, there are universal aspects, we do all bleed when pricked, or when we stumble and skin our knees…

But, my skinned knee is not yours.  And that is the point. I still remember that desperate cry of as my children ran toward me or my wife calling, Mommy!  And wanting only to be held, kissed, comforted, acknowledged.  Even after the ointments and bandages were applied, they still wanted to retell the story of their fall, of their pain. Wanted to know that someone had seen their suffering, their sorrow.

We all want to be seen, individually; not as a member of a group, an ethnic identity, an orientation, a gender.  Not even just as people.  What is Shylock’s demand but a cry that he too is human! That isn’t enough.  Deep down inside, we want to be seen as individuals, as one of a kind creations—because that is what we each and everyone one of us are.  We are each of us one of a kind creations, and the world would not, and will not be the same without us. Without our lives, our joys, our struggles, our sorrows.

Every time someone cries out for rights, for equality, for justice, they are crying out—look at me! Look and see, I am alive. I am real.  And no one has ever suffered like this, ever loved like this, ever felt like this before, because no one has ever been ME before…

That is the lesson I hear in the cry of the author of lamentations. A call to wake up. A call to open my eyes and see, to look around and realize each day that –as it says in Revelations-- God truly does “make all things new.” (21:5) Open your eyes and see.