“All I could see from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood.”
So began a poem in my high school English book that comes to mind as I read today’s readings. The poem was Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “Renascence.” In my book on the opposite page was a painting by Andrew Wyeth. The title of the painting was “Christina’s World.” It was a picture of a young woman lying in prairie grass, looking at her simple house. All she could see was house, grass, and sky.
Millay wrote the poem as an adolescent. She was 20 when it was published in 1912. It describes the experience of feeling fenced in by the world as you know it, seeking to know more, finding the world and its pain is indeed dark and troubled, and then being reborn with new vision that sees the good in life, even though awareness of evil and trouble is real and remains.
Millay’s experience is a normal developmental one for adolescents as they move into adulthood. But, my observation is that it is also a repeated one as we live our loves and sorrows. Each time I feel fenced in by news and views and life, somehow, God gives me an experience of personal awareness of suffering or evil that touches me deeply. That touching causes me to suffer in solidarity…but then somehow lifts me and cleans the windows of my soul so that I can better see the beauty and goodness—even though I remain acutely aware of the darkness.
Ezekiel
Ezekiel was a prophet who went with the people of Jerusalem into the Babylonian captivity after the first siege of Jerusalem. His task was to help the people in exile to interpret the news from home and to maintain their fidelity to faith in exile. Today, from Babylon, Ezekiel predicts the second siege of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple.
In today’s reading Ezekiel’s wife dies suddenly. God instructs Ezekiel to not engage in the normal mourning rituals. He is to tell the people in exile
Thus says the Lord GOD:
I will now desecrate my sanctuary, the stronghold of your pride,
the delight of your eyes, the desire of your soul.
The sons and daughters you left behind shall fall by the sword.
Ezekiel shall be a sign for you:
all that he did you shall do when it happens.
Thus you shall know that I am the LORD.
As I read this in Ezekiel, I think of the end-of-life path of many who have died during the pandemic. Most here have died from causes other than COVID, yet because of COVID, their families could not be with them in their last days as they normally would. Because of limits for gatherings, funerals have become small family affairs—or have been graveside services—or have been omitted altogether. How like the situation in Ezekiel!
At first, I was troubled by the last sentence from Ezekiel, “You shall not mourn or weep, but you shall rot away because of your sins and groan one to another.” Why would God command that?
But then I tied that sentence with something I know from my work as a therapist. When we humans are overwhelmed by trauma or grief, psychologically we have a tendency to close down, play possum, so to speak. We cut ourselves off—don’t let ourselves feel our feelings. We don’t stay connected to them or to others. Temporarily, that can be helpful to survival. But, we are meant to be part of a community. Humans are social beings, called to be in relationship. If the shut-down is more than brief, literally, yes, “we rot away.” I don’t think God was commanding people to rot away. He was naming the truth that it would happen because people who don’t mourn and share their pain with each other close in on themselves.
The Young Man and Jesus
A young man comes to Jesus today in the Gospel. He is attracted to the good. Maybe there’s some perfectionism or pride involved, because Jesus starts out a bit short with him, “Why do you ask me about the good? There is only one who is good. If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.” The young man is not diminished. He asks, “Which ones?” Now, remember there were over 600 laws the Jewish people were supposed to keep, so it was a valid question. Jesus responds with something I see as very important: He names the big ones from the 10 Commandments that are related to relationships with others.
The young man says he has done this all his life. Jesus replies, “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
This totally throws the young man into confusion and distress. He has many possessions. He’s never seen anything wrong with that. He shuts down and walks away from Jesus. His faith has been tied up in following rules, not in relationships. It has had the security of wealth. He cannot fathom letting go of all that for something as vague as “Follow me.”
Back to Renascence and Us
What is the price of rebirth, of renascence? Where is renascence in this topsy-turvy, polarized, pandemic world? Is it possible that that is exactly what we are called to–a rebirth as people, as church? Is Jesus saying to us, “Follow me without your possessions or your pride?” “Is he saying, turn to care for each other, for that caring is necessary for your survival?”
Millay finishes her poem,
The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the world is stretched the sky,–
No higher than the soul is high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away on either hand;
The soul can split the sky in two,
And let the face of God shine through…”
How am I bound like the young woman in Wyeth’s painting that the textbook publisher put with Millay’s poem? I heard some years later that the person in the picture had a physical handicap that kept her bound to her house on the prairie. How do I let the face of God shine through in my little corner of the world?
Prayer
Lord, I thank you for the deep thoughts you have given me this week, even though they are uncomfortable. They wash like the rain in Millay’s poem through my soul. It is not COVID that weighs on me. It is inertia among people of faith. Lord, split the sky in two. Create something new around us, within us—as you eventually created for the Hebrew people in captivity. The pandemic is world wide. What are you calling us to as a whole people, your people? Give us rebirth. What are you calling me to let go of? How are you calling me to follow You? Lead me, guide me, Lord, to renascence. Lead and guide us all–together in Christ–to reborn ways to live out our baptism.
