Dear
Friends:
Many of the ministries of this parish are done among the poor. Recently I
read this thought-porovoking message from our
Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori. I share it with you, here.
Reflecting
the light
Drawing closer to poor
reveals unexpected treasure
By Katharine Jefferts Schori, December 03, 2009
How
do we encounter the poor? Are they simply the recipients of our unwanted
clothing or our spare change, forgotten until we are confronted by a Salvation
Army bell-ringer or a donation-collection truck?
Jesus called the poor blessed because they more readily
recognize and receive the kingdom of heaven. People who are the most vulnerable
often discover that what they need can only come from God.
Each meeting with shelter or a meal or the kindness of a
stranger can be seen as divine providence.
Those who know greater economic stability often forget the
reality that life itself is a gift, and the consequent particularities of
breath and food, health and the love of others are also gifts. The tragic
result is that those not currently in want may be led to see their neighbors'
straitened circumstance as laziness, improvidence or even the result of the
poor person's own sin. Judgment quickly follows self-satisfaction. Gratitude
and vulnerability form the antidote.
Francis of Assisi spoke of the treasure of the poor, and
that apparent oxymoron has the ability to draw us deeper into God's mystery.
Where have you been most aware of your own dependence on others? That is where
you and I are most likely to meet God in the depths of illness, grief,
incapacity or abandonment.
Incarnate encounter with the poor draws us closer to our own
dependence. Fear of that encounter with dependence often prompts us to keep our
distance. We're going to miss the treasure if we insist on keeping the poor at
arm's length.
The mystery of the Incarnation is about radical dependence.
God's own poverty is made evident in frail human flesh, as Jesus is born to
homeless and poor parents in an occupied land. God has only God's own self to
give, and it is the most priceless gift imaginable. God didn't send a check to
save his errant brood, God sent our Elder Brother.
Our family connections are strengthened -- made more real --
in sharing his work and sending ourselves into the midst of vulnerable
humanity, including the dark recesses of our own hearts. Go and meet the poor
and discover the treasures of rejoicing at small blessings, a feast in the
midst of famine, endurance in the face of the world's dismissal, hope in the
darkest night.
One of my favorite images of this comes from the childhood
of a Greek peasant during World War II.1
One day Alexander discovered a piece of mirror from a
crashed German motorcycle. He began to play with it and discovered that he
could use it to reflect light into dark holes and crevices. As he grew up, he
discovered in it the meaning of his own life, "shining light into dark
places."
We become those bits of mirror when we approach the dark
places of life. The mirror can't do any significant reflective work if it stays
too far away from the dark. The image of God in which we are created is meant
to be a mirror, reflecting the light of the world into encounters where our
connection with the divine is unrecognized. The surprise may be that the poor
can make a bright mirror for those whose confidence is in the bank.
This Advent, go looking for mirrors. You are more likely to
find them in or near places that seem pretty poor and dark and mean. May you find
the light of the world and become a reflector yourself.
1Robert Fulghum,
It Was on Fire When I Lay Down on It. p 174ff
-- The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts
Schori is presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church.
Dana
Campbell, Priest in Charge
Church of the Good Shepherd, Hartford
