Thresholds

Thresholds

The evening of Holy Thursday is one of the most sacred thresholds

in the Christian calendar. We gather at table in a unique way,

feeling the very thirst for human community

that Jesus voiced when he said,

“I have earnestly desired to share this meal with you.” (Luke 22:15)

In echo and imitation we break bread, wash one another’s hands,

then strip the altar bear, returning home in silence, in darkness,

as the hours of testing begin.

As day turns into night, we turn inwardly into the silence,

the heart of darkness, the tender underside of life,

the not knowing that is part and parcel of life’s mystery.

Gethsemane. The dark night.

Here again Jesus turns to his closest companions,

who struggle even with the simplest plea: “Stay with me.”

This year we cannot gather, but we can earnestly desire.

We can mark the moments of passage that lead us into the darkness,

and we can stay there, without words.

We can ask for eyes to see.

And we can wait until we know what to do.

Through these days and the darknesses that they bring,

may we stay in the space of inner emptiness and engage the prayer of waiting.

Old assumptions will shrivel and die, and our certainties may melt around us;

yet we can remain, for a tender moment, in the stillness

that is the only place of real knowing.

May we be faithful to the prayer of waiting.

In that prayer, we learn presence.

Courage

More than ever, we need to concentrate on courage.

Like athletes in training for the Olympic games,

we should set our minds and hearts on growing in courage.

Courage is a strength that comes from the heart.

In fact, the very word “courage” is derived from cor,

the Latin word for the heart.

For too long, we have operated as if

the mind is the seat of rationality

and the heart is the space of emotion.

But this dichotomy is false.

We know that deep wisdom emerges from the heart,

even as we can now map emotions

like fear and anger in the brain.

Our times demand new forms of courage.

They ask us to respond to life

from a deeply integrated space

of knowledge, wisdom, care and strength.

Acting courageously does not mean that we feel no fear.

It means, instead, that we do not allow fear, warranted or not,

to override our other human capacities.

A careful reading of the gospels suggests that

the many times that Jesus counseled his friends and companions

not to fear, he was not saying that we should not feel fear,

but rather we should not allow fear to paralyze us

or overcome the strength that we derive

from our connection to God and our connection to one another.

Stay rooted and stay connected.

Quarantine as Opportunity

As more and more of us globally are staying at home, we have a unique opportunity to re-imagine ourselves as a human community. Now is the time to recognize our common humanity, to look out for one another, and to grow into a new and universal solidarity that perhaps one day we can celebrate.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta famously said, “The problem with our world is that we’ve forgotten that we belong to one another.” Now is the time to re-member—that is, to slowly stitch together the fabric of the human family, to commit ourselves to doing all that we can to alleviate suffering, inequity and despair in our world. Now is the time to engage a real metanoia—a change of mind, heart, attitude, and action—so that together we can create a world that is truly a home for all.

A new and universal solidarity requires a new orientation in us. Will we rise to the occasion to embrace mutual accountability and growth? will we nurture and cultivate human goodness and giftedness, in ourselves and in one another? Drawing from the generous wellspring of God, in our depths and in our midst, we can take both inspiration and vitality from the source of life that God’s love is, consoling and galvanizing the human community at large as we take heart and draw strength from one another.