Wonderings--July 7

In preparation for Sunday I was re-reading a section of Richard Rohr's book, The Universal Christ. I find Richard's words are provocative and deep. If we are willing to sit with these words for any length of time, then we can discover God close at hand. Richard's words often speak of a relational-richness that he and God have together--one that we should aspire to. 

Midway through the book he tells the story of having to put his beloved black Lab, Venus, down. She had inoperable cancer and it was only a matter of time for her. In hindsight, Venus had been giving Richard a gentle look that said (in his words), "It is okay, you can let me go. I know it is my time." But he says that she patiently waited for him to be ready. As anyone who has had to put down a beloved pet, this is a hard, painful, responsibility. I do not look forward to it coming into anyone's life. 

In my life, I have needed say good-bye to three dogs already. Each time the act is incredibly painful. We weep and we ache because they are gone. . . then without warning, we speak their name and the tears come back--even years later. 

Richard concludes his story of Venus the following way:

"For me, and I can only say for me, it deeply helped to think back to Venus's eyes, and name all of this suffering and sadness as the one sadness of God. (Emphasis in original). Then I did not have to hold it alone. And I learned I could not hold it alone, but it was a sacred experience--an experience with God."

I share these words not because I want to think about the pain of losing a family pet--which is so terrible painful. But I share these words because what Richard Rohr speaks about seems to be lacking in so much of our discourse and debate these days. 

We are so busy being angry, upset, confused, numb that we do not stop and wonder how close God could. We seem so angry by what we witness, and I do understand the social aspect of this feeling. Yet in the same breath we affirm that only we have the power to fix our world or to change policies or to teach the values that are missing in the world. But that feels like all the work resides with me and none of it lives with God. .   

For even in pain, even in the confusion that I witness outside my window each day, God is already present and at work.

I am not saying that God is at work in every decision, debate, policy, and government action. But if God is  in all places, time, and space then why do we attempt to live this life as if pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps is anything more than a display of power? 

I wonder what we might become as a people if we took time to realize that God wants to be affirmed in all places in our day? Perhaps that might be the Christian response our world needs so desperately? 

Blessings