Last November 2nd, the two cats you see in the picture today came to my house to live. It was all Souls Day, so they got contemplative names: Merton and Claire. They were about four months old when they came, and they thoroughly entertained me all COVID Winter 1 as they grew up and figured out how to be cats.
I remember one late spring morning. The three of us were on the back porch, surveying our back yard kingdom. Suddenly, there was a deer in the middle of it. Merton gave Claire a “I’ve got this, no worries” look and started walking toward the deer. He kept walking. The deer looked at him—at first with curiosity, then with surprise, because he kept coming. When Merton got within a few feet of her, she put her ears back and took a graceful leap over the fence into my neighbor’s yard. Merton sniffed a bit where the deer had stood, then returned to the porch, where Claire licked his head with clear approval.
I was absolutely amazed at Merton’s bravado, but, over the months, it has changed. Claire was visibly injured once, but I’ve never seen a mark of a fight on Merton. Nonetheless, with the life experiences of the summer, now both cats survey their world out the back door very carefully. They do not venture out until they perceive full safety. They now let the woodchuck saunter through and crouch behind a porch plant if a neighborhood raccoon sniffs around. They’ve made peace with the squirrels. It’s still their kingdom, but they know the limits of their power.
A piece I wrote last spring for our diocesan magazine was published in September. Its title was the same as this one: Friendly Again. It’s a mental health piece about how we emerge from the psychological distances of COVID practices. It began with a story I frequently tell and may have told here at some time. It is a story of Albert Einstein, the scientist. Einstein, who developed relativity theory, was considered a highly intelligent man. One day someone asked him, “What is the most important question?” His answer was, “Is the universe a friendly place or not?”
I have pondered that question through the years many times from many angles. It comes to mind today as I look at the daily Scripture readings and how I might apply them as we enter COVID Winter 2.
Zechariah and the Return from Exile
We tend to think of prophets as predictors of “doom and gloom,” because so many of them had the job of forewarning God’s people they must change their ways or bad things would happen. But prophets were sent to speak TRUTH. Sometimes Truth was doom and gloom. Sometimes Truth was a message of HOPE.
Such is the situation today with Zechariah. The people have returned to Judah. They are rebuilding Jerusalem and its temple. The work is hard. There are limited resources. The people are second and third generation from those who went into exile. They don’t have a picture in their minds of what the rebuilt Jerusalem AND rebuilt faith will look like. Without vision, it’s hard for them to work as hard as they need to in order to get the temple rebuilt and the faith retaught.
A question comes up about fasting on the anniversary of the destruction of the temple. Should the people still fast? Zechariah answers with ten visions the Lord gives him. Today’s reading is the first one. He sees a wonderful future: older men and women sitting in front of their houses on the streets of Jerusalem. They are resting, because they have done the work of rebuilding. Their grandchildren are playing around them.
Reading through Zechariah, his message is not “The universe is a friendly place. Trust it.” It is, “The Lord will make the universe a friendly place if you put your trust in him and follow his precepts (rules).”
Hmm.
The Gospel
Today’s Gospel is Luke’s version of part of Mark’s story used in the Sunday Gospel. What are the disciples asking Jesus? The questions and answers don’t seem related at first reading.
But maybe they are. Maybe they are Jesus’ guidance to the disciples’ deeper question, “Is the universe a friendly place or not?”
Pride comes out in me, not when things are going well, but when I’m insecure—when the universe does not seem to be a friendly place. Then my stance wants to be something like my cat Merton’s bravado last spring. “I’ve got this. No worries.” Truth is, such thoughts are core “the way of the world”—survival of the fittest (and non-survival of the less fit). Like Merton with the deer, we all want to believe that we are the fittest.
Jesus’ message is very clearly the opposite of that: greatness in God’s kingdom comes from receiving and seeking the good of all. Accept the powerless (the child) and those who are not quite with us: seek the good of those who are dependent on us and those who appear to be competitors. It isn’t the goal that is the prize, but the way of walking along the way.
Applications for Us
It is interesting to put the reading from Luke in context. Chapter Nine in Luke is very eventful. In that chapter Jesus (1) sends the 12 out for their first practicum building the Kingdom; (2) feeds the 5000; (3) asks the question to which Peter’s answer is ‘You are the Christ;” (4) first says ‘Take up your cross;’ (5) is Transfigured; (6) has this discussion of greatness; and (7) shows he means what he says by the way he responds to opposition.
Hmm.
All of this happens before Jesus sends out the larger delegation of disciples, “The Seventy,” for their practicum at building the kingdom. The Seventy represent us, ordinary people.
It seems Jesus is saying to us: build the Kingdom by trusting in God, then loving all by seeking the good of all. Indeed, take up your cross. No survival of the fittest. Thrival of all.
COVID Winter 2
COVID rages around me. I was recently in isolation for a week because of exposure. I’m fine—but many people around me are not. Some people, by the way they behave, seem to be saying, “Survival of the fittest is the way to go. I’m tired of being careful. I’ve had the vaccine—or not. I’m tired of masks, hand sanitizer, and social distancing. I’m going to trust God for myself and assume I’m among the fittest and will survive. Or, God or not, right or wrong or not, survival for you or me or not, I join the way of the world.”
Others, now used to isolation, masks, and living in fear, say, “The universe isn’t friendly and it may never be again. I may pray God takes care of me, but I give up on building the kingdom. I will stay inside–maybe always.”
My prayer today tells me Zechariah and Jesus point to another way: Trust God, living by what God teaches, including self-sacrifice, prudence, acceptance of differences, and generosity. Prudently go forth, carrying your personal cross, and build. Like the cats, learn as you go–but keep going out in the yard every day.
Prayer:
Lord, give me wisdom to know what Your Way is as I face COVID Winter 2 and all the dynamics COVID has created. Give me courage to carry my cross and do my best to love all in ways that help all survive.
