Dismissals

Late one summer afternoon, as I sat on my front stoop, my neighbor came home from work. As Steve often did, he sat in his car and surveyed his lawn. If there was one long blade of grass anywhere, Steve would get his mower. That day, while Steve mowed, his daughter came home from school. As she left her car for the house, a pack of cigarettes fell to the ground. When Steve saw the cigarettes, he stopped his mower and walked slowly to his daughter’s car. He picked up the cigarettes and stood holding them for a long while. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

I was talking with a friend about 150 mph trains. We don’t have them in this country. I wish we did. I traveled on such a train from Paris to London. Looking out the window at the countryside, the impression of speed recalled Wile E. Coyote chasing The Road Runner… the clouds in the background whooshing past. My friend had lived in Japan where trains go 200 mph. Yet, as the trains approach Mount Fuji, they slow down so passengers can take in the beauty of Japan’s iconic mountain. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

At gatherings where food was free, wherever canapés and a punch bowl were set upon a table, one couple was always there, eating from whatever the groaning-board had to offer. I spoke to them occasionally. I never knew their names but everyone called them Bush and Honeybun. Bush was unshaven and wore the same tweed jacket no matter the season. Honeybun wore vivid, mismatched outfits, smiled but seldom spoke. Some people greeted them, some scowled. One evening, a subdued Bush stood alone, hands in his pockets. Someone asked him, “Where’s that girlfriend of yours, what’s her name? Honeybun?” Bush leveled his eyes at the man and said evenly, “Alice. Her name was Alice Bush.” Bush turned away and stood by…

My grandfather’s brother Miles was the night watchman at the dynamite factory. Miles drank to excess and seldom had the wherewithal to feed himself. Miles came daily to my grandfather’s home for a meal and spare change. One night, a terrible explosion. Pieces of the dynamite factory rained down on the city. The family, certain that his intemperate life was the cause of the catastrophe, took a few minutes to mourn Miles then counted themselves lucky to be done with him. Alas, that night had been Miles’s night off. In the morning, Miles came by for breakfast, though Miles never drank again, so fortunate did he consider himself. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

He was maybe 14, a neighborhood kid looking for work. He said he could wash my car so I gave him a bucket, soap, rags and a sponge, pulled out the hose and let him get to it. Time passed. He banged on the door and said he was finished. I looked. The dirt on my car had been rearranged but I didn’t think highly of the workmanship. I told him so but gave him his price and sent him off. Twenty minutes later, a knock. The boy stood on the stoop and beside him a man. He said, “My son says you weren’t happy with his work.” The boy looked down, the man looked at me and I wondered…

I am learning to Listen. Not ‘active listening’ or ‘being present’ or any particular method of listening but simple, naïve listening. People need to be heard. So I listen. When I do it right, I don’t fix problems or give advice. I just Listen. My friend – and Listening Mentor – is Jack, a Listener at the 2100 Men’s Shelter. He wrote in a letter: “How can a guy … who has not experienced love learn to be a loving person? In Cleveland there are thousands of guys like this. But they do respond to love and then they love others. This is a simple observation it has taken me 81 years to learn!!!!! ….. Here’s a discovery I am…

When something is done for me, I try to remember to say, “Thank you.” And, when I do for others, whether the work is great or small, I hope to hear, “Thank you.” So, too, in my prayers. For God’s mercy, peace and grace, I say, “Thank you.” One day, not long ago, I had been in the world, trying to solve some problem or throw a little oil on troubled waters. I came home weary and could muster no more energy than to sit and listen for the thrum of the universe or for any still, small voice that cared to speak to me. In the silence I heard it. I’m sure I did. A whisper. So quiet. God…

I want to cut back and say “No” more often. A well-meaning friend suggested some excuses: “Who am I that I should?” … “But what if?” … “But suppose they don’t?” … “But I have never!” And this: “Please, send someone else!” I tried all these excuses and now I am doing more, not less. I asked my friend, “Where in Heaven’s Name did you get these excuses? They don’t work!” He told me, “These are the five excuses Moses gave to God to get out of confronting Pharaoh and leading his people out of Egypt. They didn’t work for Moses, either.” Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

What is one little light against all that dark? I do not know who first asked that question but it comes to mind, from time to time, as I go about in the world. I stumble along, eyes ahead, holding up my own little light against the dark. Then, off to the left and to the right, I see your light and the lights of others and together we make our way. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

We lived in the West Indies when I was a child. One Sunday morning, to us a Sunday like any other, we heard singing. We heard happy voices and Caribbean rhythms. That morning we walked into the village to the small, clapboard church. The windows and doors were open. In patois came the invitation, “Come in, come in!” The front pew was hurriedly vacated and there we were on Easter morning. I recall little about the service. Yet, sixty years later, the singing remains. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

At the museum, I stand before an icon. St. Francis kneels before the cross, eyes uplifted, hands outstretched. The suffering Christ looks down upon him. My errant eye sees a bird’s nest at the topmost of the cross. I move closer. It is a pelican, an ancient symbol of Christ. The pelican pierces its neck with its beak, blood drips into the mouths of the pelican’s hungry young. In fact, pelicans do no such thing. The icon’s implicit question does not concern literalism or accuracy but simply: “What might this mean to me?” Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

March 25th was the Annunciation, marking the visit of the angel Gabriel to Mary with the revelation that Mary will bear God’s son. Once, in a Bible study, I asked why this happy occasion of Gabriel’s visit to Mary is celebrated in the penitential season of Lent. If I recall correctly, it has something to do with the Annunciation being exactly nine months before December 25th. Jesus, born of a woman, was fully divine yet fully human. In the cycle of our church year, Gabriel announces new life even in the shadow of the cross. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh