Tag: crisis

Joy and Revelation

me

Amidst scrubbing for the umpteenth time, dried food on pots and pans and the ratsin’ fratsin’ that kept pouring out of my mouth, I had a revelation that brought me peace among the crust of other people’s garbage. The revelation pulled so much of my journey over the last few years together, amidst a pandemic, financial upheaval, polarizing anger and judgement…it all became so very clear. And to begin with, this has nothing, well mostly nothing to do with partisan politics, those of you who think differently than me should know by now how dear you are to me…if not, I’m sure I will be rethinking my ability to communicate that better. Secondly, I really don’t give two hoots in hell if I make some people angry. Do you want to know why? I DID THE WORK…and when I didn’t get it right, karma came crashing down until I got it right. (my relationship to God stems on a quick turn around so I waste no time) please check this reference on “standing in the middle” https://maryfrancesflood.com/?p=7930. Third, because I did the work, I am emboldened to tell you what I think is important information kind of like a philosophical/ theological explorer of sorts. And Forth, and maybe the most important of all, the possibility exists that I am totally fuc@#$g completely off base, and like Thomas Merton said “My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.” And also my obsession with Job; https://maryfrancesflood.com/2012/04/25/the-patience-of-job/ I am perfectly aware that I don’t have the omniscience that God has, so if I’m wrong about any of this, it certainly wasn’t for failed effort. I don’t think God would allow me to keep such delusions. Anyway, here we go.

I’ve been think a lot about this particular scripture when Jesus talks about the separation of the sheep and the goats. When Jesus comes back in all his glory, he will separate the sheep from the goats…basically those who understood the point of his ministry and utilized the power of grace to inherit the kingdom of heaven (which is super goal oriented, I guess). The bottom line is that the prize will go to those who treat the least among us like they were Christ…there is a lot fodder for discussion for what that means, but let me assure you it has nothing to do with the recitation of the phrase “I accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior” and then keep kicking the least among you because you think they are sinners and disgusting, and well basically because you said the magic phrase and I’m in the club now, and gives you license to be God in judgment and jury. Love is more efficacious than that…which is evidence why I can love people who stand on a different polarity than me…their love is efficacious (look it up, its a cool word…you’re welcome).  Also, the least among us may look differently to each person see:https://maryfrancesflood.com/2015/01/02/of-consequence-and-consequences/. What makes us a sheep and not a goat, is how we respond to the people we think are of no consequence, or using my reference from the beginning of the post, who throw cooked on dried on food container in the sink for us to clean up. Jesus taught me in a dream, that if I really wanted to keep true to that message I had to be willing to wash someone’s feet that I think is so off it would be painful to do so, and I’m also reminded of  that question that my eldest son posed when he was eight that rocked my world, “Mom, there isn’t a place even in hell that the love of God can’t reach, right?” This is where my frailty comes in and my deep dependence on God to do the right thing when someone has spiritually knifed me in the back…while the anger and all that comes with that is justifiable and all I want to do is eviscerate them with my velociraptor like vocabulary…I recommit to refusing to let it turn me into a goat. (even though for the record this metaphor is lost on me because I love me some baby goats…I understand Jesus meaning though).

The joy comes because of the work that I’ve done, work for which I WILL NOT AND NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR, even if you call me a pontificating freak (which in so many words people have said a lot).I have the war wounds to show for it, and the wisdom to know what is self inflicted and what is not. The joy comes because I have walked and listened to a multitude of perspectives…again, here is the reference: https://maryfrancesflood.com/2018/02/15/truth-and-perspective/. The joy comes because I am so much more than those people that are stuck in one position and refuse to broaden their perspective by simply moving and opening their eyes to a different angle. I have joy because I recognize clearly those who are stuck and understand that it is as impossible to change their minds as it is to have someone color blind understand the color purple. The joy comes because “I” am so much more, because my eyes are open and God has shown me a multitude of colors I hadn’t seen before…and that does make a difference. As the little prince says in St Exupery’ great book: words are often the greatest source of misunderstanding…and then goes on to say “What is essential is invisible to the eye; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly” Jesus says it too: they will know you are my disciples by how you love one another. The joy also comes even amidst the anger that I feel when someone else’s stupid fear (and or just someone’s stupidity) creates havoc in this world. I have joy even amidst the sadness of so many life changes and losses, because the crux of my faith is when God is with me, nothing can keep me from his love…and those who don’t live by that are becoming or already are goats. And I can’t change that, except to treat them, and the least among my particular world as I would Christ. I can only change my response to them, and see if that makes a difference. And sometimes that response looks like wielding a sword, and others like washing feet. The joy comes when I simply do what the Gospel asks me to do, and the promise that I am not alone, even if I am physically in any given moment.

The joy comes, also, because for the first time in a very long time, I don’t feel alone. I feel connected to the great source that connects us all, and in my prayers I feel you, (even though I may not physically know you), struggling to become or stay sheep. I feel joy in praying for you every day too.

Listen

When there are no words, I am called to listen. This week I listened to stories of love and loss, hardship and unexpected graciousness, and I felt sadness but also hope. I also listened to stories of anger, bias, ill informed and ignorant claims about “what really happened,” questions about character and worth and I felt despair but also deep anger. I heard people speak of those participants in the horrors of Baton Rouge, Minneapolis, and Dallas with deep love about those who were lost. I listened to my pastor speak about a phrase from Romans 8:31: If God is for us, who can be against us, and that nothing can separate us from the love of God. I listened to my son, impressed by Jane Elliot’s ground breaking, “blue eyed, brown eyed” experiment in the 1960’s, speak with laser accuracy about racism. I listened to social media friends talk about white privilege and black lives matter and knew that I could never understand with any depth what people of color go through in this country. I listened to friends in law enforcement and blue lives matter and the fear that follows them each and every day, and yet work with deep honor and pride as well. I listened to a mother with a biracial child speak about the subtle and not so subtle ways racism affects her daughter. I listened to a story about a woman who was able to comfort a frightened Muslim grandmother who was afraid at an airport in the most beautiful and simplest way. I listened to people effortlessly bash our president with unmitigated hatred after, what I thought was one of the most beautiful memorial speeches ever, he spoke in Dallas. I listened with even more sadness when I heard the news of another attack in France.

It is a disturbing point of tension, caught in the middle unable to say anything that would begin to change another’s mind or heart. To hear so many perspectives that seemed to speak over each other, cancel each other out or in anonymous condemnation made me want to stop listening. So I sat in silence and remembered the words of Isaiah when he heard God in a whisper. And in the quiet of those moments I could feel God present in my struggle, and could hear God in a whisper, and he asked me to magnify my struggle as much as I could and think of how much bigger my struggle could be…and he told me even then I am there. He is present in every place where there is crisis, even in my small and seemingly insignificant one. I listened to God and realized that we haven’t really been listening to him when he said that nothing could separate us from his love. When we listen, we can hear God through each other. I told God that I wanted to be the seed that was planted deep and not on shallow, rocky, or thorny ground. And then I listened to the words of Christ who said that I need only love the Lord my God with my heart, mind and soul, and my neighbor as my self. And the way to do that was to see Christ in them, understand them by walking a mile in their shoes, and work with them to become the Body of Christ. I am a holder of his Grace, I have no need to fear, and yet I do. I fear the lies that are being spread, because we don’t want to listen to painful truths. I fear that the Devil is craftier than I ever knew in eliciting strife and discord, and people are buying it hook, line and sinker, under the guise of faith, patriotism and righteousness.

So before you plant your feet too firmly, take a walk to the other side, and listen. You may see things differently.