Dismissals

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

My mother was a classically trained artist. In her paintings, I see traces of the faith she never professed. In one painting, a robed figure stands in a gazebo. Is it Mary? Jesus? In another painting, the words “Jesus Saves” are chalked onto a boulder. I once asked my mother to paint silver and glass to show me how they reflect light and color. That painting, a still life, a labor of her love, hangs on the wall where I write. There is a glass compote filled with strawberries, a few lie on the table. A silver goblet reflects the tattersall tablecloth. A small plate with a half dozen pirouette cookies sits next to a wicker wine jug. Today, in…

I carried a big bag of oranges into the homeless shelter. Thinking I would pass them out later, I tucked the bag out of sight, behind some boxes in the broom closet. An hour later, talking to a few men at the shelter, it occurred to me that an orange would taste mighty good, and that this might be the right time ….. but I was interrupted. A man carried a big bag of oranges – my oranges! He handed me an orange, smiled radiantly, and said, “Bless you!” He gave away the oranges, blessing as he went, this time not the receiver of a gift, but the giver. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

I have a friend who, when he greets me, inquires of my well-being then adds, “And how are those you visit?” He himself visits people in a halfway house. He uses the word “visit” not as a casual social call or dropping in, but in the archaic sense of to comfort, to go and see about someone, to spend the time to offer a kind word and listening ear. We all have someone whom we visit, someone we go to see about. When we greet one another, we might ask, “How are you? And how are those you visit?” Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

Long ago, I thumbed through the Bible, foreign territory to me then. I came to the book called Lamentations. I read a few verses and set the Bible aside. Too depressing. Fast forward to a few weeks ago, invited to a Bible study, they were reading Lamentations. Lamentations begins with the anguished cry of the Daughter of Zion. Jerusalem lies desolate, the people are exiled, all is lost. This year, Lamentations is my Lenten discipline. In the no-man’s-land of Lamentations, with the Daughter of Zion, I pray and wait. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh

Becky was at the food pantry whenever it was open. She started the pantry and kept it going. I asked her how she came to be so involved. She said, “I was called by God.” I had to ask, “So, God called you to start this food pantry?” “No,” said Becky, “God never did say my name. I saw there was a need for a food pantry. Then I heard God calling, ‘Anyone? Anyone?’ and I answered.” Go in peace to love and serve the Lord! Josh