October 6, 2009
Tuesday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time
By Beth De Cristofaro
The word of the LORD came to Jonah a second time: “Set out for the great city of Nineveh and announce to it the message that I will tell you.” So Jonah made ready and went to Nineveh, according to the LORD’s bidding. (Jonah 3:2-3)
The Lord said to her in reply, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her.” (Luke 10:41-41)
Piety
As the rain hides the stars, as the autumn mist hides the hills, as the clouds veil the blue of the sky, so the dark happenings of my lot hide the shining of thy face from me. Yet, if I may hold thy hand in the darkness, it is enough, since I know, that though I may stumble in my going, Thou dost not fall. (Traditional Scottish Blessing)
Study
Jesus’ answer to Martha always creates tension within me. It reminds me of the beautiful words of Psalm 46: “Be still and know that I am God.” But what about my Martha side? Jonah was sure no Mary as he proclaimed God’s word and brought about the repentance of the Ninevites. Perhaps, though, Jonah used his time alone in the whale to “be still.” So the Martha in me would like to offer a Mary moment to you today.
I would like to reflect on Autumn, my favorite time of year, which is a changing, mercurial time of year. Why our second day of Autumn last week was a taste of summer’s heat while the second day of the season changed dramatically to wet, cool air. Just like our own lives, Autumn is difficult to sum up in just a few words. And I see the presence God in Autumn illuminating the presence of God in my own life.
Autumn is gaudy, splashy, vivid, excessive and so beautiful. But Autumn can also surprise with unexpected iciness. Our own lives can look like this, moments of great joy and periods of disappointment or setback. We might be soaking in the vibrancy of Autumn, fulfilled in our job and enriched by our friends today. But then we wake up tomorrow to find frost tipping the grass as we experience a sudden illness, injury or loss. Autumn, mecurial Autumn, causes me to ponder the vast imaginative power of the life-giving force behind the seasons and the turn of time.
I love looking for beautiful fallen leaves during Autumn. Picking up a multi-colored sugar maple leaf I admire its blazing reds and dazzling yellows on the same leaf. Those colors remind me of the delightful days of playing with my children when they were little and watching their pleasure in learning about their world. I look at the veins and lines on the leaf and find the paths of journeys I have experienced – here, the winding days of college, there a short-lived, ill-matched job. I hold this leaf up to the light and admire its fragility yet gorgeousness and am connected to its creation and its Creator – a Creator which cared enough to create this unique leaf.
But as I hold it up I also notice a torn edge. The broken relationships which scar my happiness come to mind. There is a hole here, a void of dreams set aside and goals unreached. There are brown, dry patches which remind me that my health is not perfect, that I too am fragile. And I picture the divinity who held this leaf to its tree during its summer and who lovingly cradled it as it fell here to my feet.
Then I take a step back. I love looking at the quilt display of Autumn trees. In a few weeks when we look out our windows we will enjoy the riot of colors – gold, russet, burgundy – of trees swaying against trees. These vibrancies are like our seasons of life. The colors of our lives sway against the colors of other lives and form a vast vista. That vista is rooted in, nourished by, held firm by a God which finds our lives to be good, created in beauty. God loves us as extravagantly as those colors. God loves the purples of creative, productive lives and the brunette of lives which are broken, old, crushed. God loves the spaces of leaves already dropped – those leaves of our lives which have fallen and we are uncertain whether we will enter the realm of winter or experience a new beginning in Spring. Life is precious and the season of Autumn uses the living colors of precious metals to illustrate it. Autumn can be a season of fire with the gold of possibility and new life with God.
Autumn can also be a time of reflection. In nature, Autumn is the time of year for trees to draw in life-force, hording sap and nourishment deep inside as protection from winter. We might use Autumn moments in our own lives to reflect on our colors, the bright and the dull. We can use the time to review our life, taking stock of what our life looks like and what our life might look like when the time comes for winds to knock us to the feet of our God. It can be a time to seek our roots of spiritual nourishment and find refreshment.
Autumn can be a trying time of tears, ice, and broken limbs. It reminds us that our seasons come but our seasons go. It can be melancholy and boring. There is a Mohawk Indian saying which goes: “The words of God are not like the oak leaf which dies and falls to the earth, but like the pine tree which stays green forever.” Although the colors of trees and the colors of our days wither and fade, the eternal colors of God, in whom we are deeply rooted, remain.
Action
I invite you to take an Autumn moment. Rest your back on the strong, green, life-giving presence of God and look at the leaf of your life and the vista of your living. Take in the beauty and open yourself to God’s consoling presence. DeColores
