love

Life from death.

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I wanted to share it with you so you don’t feel alone.

Today is Easter.  We are all quarantined because of COVID19, and so we watched inspirational talks on social media, and shared pictures of what we baked, and zoomed with our families. 

At noon, I watched Andrea Bocelli live stream from Milan Italy.  I watched a man in a beautiful church, a man who couldn’t see anything of the beauty around him stand there and sing his heart out as his offering to the world.  There were camera shots of the empty streets in Italian cities.  As Bocelli poured out his gift for us all.  

It was breathtaking.

 It made me realize that one of the most moving things about this quarantine is to watch how people are just pouring themselves out to one another to say, “I’m here, I see you, I’m with you.”  Singers are singing to the world from their homes, from isolated places.  For free.    A trumpeter plays from a balcony in Italy.  In Missoula Montana, the entire town howls together at 7pm to show their support for the essential care workers.  In the town of Belper in the UK, residents lean out of their windows at 6:30 each evening a “moo” together.  Oprah invites us into her kitchen to cook.  Preachers and teachers continue to speak words of hope across the miles.  Miki808 holds a dance party for us every day on Instagram.  And most of this has no personal gain attached to it.  The moo-ers and the trumpeters and the howlers are not getting paid for it.   It’s just for love and solidarity and support. 

It’s so lovely.

We’re in the midst of an experience which brings us face to face with the reality that we have no real control over our lives  -- our loved ones could become sick and die, our jobs could disappear any minute, our homes, our retirements.  And yet, faced with this reality that we so often don’t have to acknowledge, our instinct is to throw whatever small gift (or large gift if you’re Andrea Bocelli) we have out into the universe for each other…

The collective body of humanity seems to be saying, “I can’t save your job, your bank account or even your life, but here’s my song, here’s the flower I saw on my walk today, here’s a joke, here’s the bread I baked today, here’s a dance I am dancing , here’s my howl or my moo…..  I wanted to share it with you so you don’t feel alone.”      

It brings me to tears.

Life from death.

Happy Easter. 

PB & J Communion

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Eucharist: late Middle English: from Old French eucariste, based on ecclesiastical Greek eukharistia ‘thanksgiving,’ from Greek eukharistos ‘grateful,’ from eu ‘well’ + kharizesthai ‘offer graciously’ (from kharis ‘grace’).

Over the past ten years, I’ve watched my dad slip away, one small, excruciating piece at a time.  At first it was little changes.  Before he started slipping away, he was always an obsessively neat and tidy person.  He would hang tools on the garage wall and ask me to outline the shapes of each tool with a marks-a-lot ( an old-school Sharpee) so that they would always be returned to the exact same spot each time. His sock drawer was immaculate; each pair rolled exactly the same, color coded from lightest to darkest.  One of the first changes I noticed in dad was that his garage wasn’t neat and tidy anymore.  Dad had always been fastidiously clean and then I noticed that sometimes he didn’t shower every day.   Dad was always a “fix-it” guy and a true handy-man, but suddenly he wasn’t fixing anything around the house.  Mom bought a new barbecue grill and he didn’t put it together for her.  I realized at some point that it wasn’t because he had lost interest, or become lazy, it was because he couldn’t anymore. 

He started falling frequently, and staying in bed all day.  He became incontinent and this very proud man didn’t seem embarrassed in the least when he would wet or soil himself. 

For the last 2 ½ years, he’s been in a nursing home- the final indignity.  He’s lost his mobility and his dementia gets worse by the day.  He is unable to communicate verbally anymore in any meaningful way.  He has a tough time bringing words to mind in order to complete a sentence. 

I grieve the loss of my dad a little at a time as there’s less and less each day of the dad I knew.  But behind the inabilities, vulnerabilities, and indignities he is going through, one thing endures.  My dad was always such a giving person.  If you needed something, he was there for you.  When my brother in law was burned in a house fire, dad flew up to northern Michigan and sat at my brother in law’s bedside, feeding him ice cream.    If you were moving, he was there to help.  When I went through my divorce, he was always coming into town to be with my kids while I went to night classes, went on business trips, tried to make a new life for myself.  He tiled a bathroom for me, built in a fourth bedroom for my son.  He was one of those people that truly enjoyed giving to others and being the hero.   He was my rock.  

And dad was a romantic.  He was the kind of man who bought my mom flowers and jewelry for special occasions, opened doors for her, and I hear he was a great dancer.  Now, he can’t dance or go out and buy her roses and diamonds, and a nursing home is about the least romantic place to spend time with your lover.  But,   every day, he orders a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the lunch room.  After his lunch, he takes the sandwich back to his room and waits for my mom to come for her visit.  When she comes to see him each day after lunch, he takes half the sandwich and gives her half.  Then together, as their lives and their 61 year love affair slip away; this beautiful couple share this bread, and jelly and peanut butter.  This is their daily eucharist, their holy communion.  It’s all he has left to give her. 

“This is my body”

And it’s beautiful.   

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Must I objectify to love?

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“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.

Must we objectify someone or something in order to love it?

Can we love without action?

Can we love from afar?

If love is an emotion, must it have an object to attach itself to?

When love is just an emotion, just what exactly are we loving anyway?  When we feel an emotional feeling of love or charity toward someone, we are simply loving our concept of them. Unless we are talking about our emotional reaction to the way they look, we aren’t loving the actual, concrete being. We are loving all the mental and emotional concepts and definitions we have attached to them.  We are loving the object we created in our own mind.  This creation of ours may or may not be them at all.  We could have them all wrong.  In this way, people are not objects that can ever be fully known.  They are infinite with infinite depths and cannot be pinned down so easily.  Thus, we may be loving someone that doesn’t even really exist. 

And so it is with love for God.

So if by objectifying others, or God, I end up loving something that may not even exist, how then do I love?

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”

“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”

 You might think at first glance that the simple equation is that love is a verb that requires an object to give to.  However, love can only truly occur when it is a verb applied to a non-object.  When it is  given freely in action form to another person without making assumptions about who that person is or what they will do with our gift.  Without objectifying.   

Feed his lambs. 

Who are they?

How can we know?

Are we feeding a lamb?

A sinner?

Someone blameless?

Someone trustworthy?

A con artist?

A devil?

An angel? 

God?

 

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