What — no name?

Greetings from our campsite at the beach. The sun is shining, and a gentle breeze is blowing. We have enjoyed several days of biking, hiking and camp meals. One of the joys of camping is eating every meal outside. This morning at breakfast we had a visitor, it was a bug — of the sort we had never seen before! It was about an inch and a half long and bright orange with very long black feelers. It just sat on the corner of the table having somehow got inside the screen tent — probably not hard to do as there are several small holes in the mesh! 

 

I wondered if our bug friend would enjoy toast so placed a small piece nearby. Sure enough, the bug moved to the toast and started nibbling it. We were both amazed. So, I placed a piece of melon next to the toast. The bug seemed to enjoy that too.

 

Andy looked at me and commented that as the bug had joined us for breakfast, they should have a name. He chose “Flo”.  The name changed a stranger to a friend — suddenly they had an identity. Flo hung around for quite a while before flying to explore new regions. 

 

Interestingly, as I read the lectionary this morning, names were the first thing I noticed. Or should I say the lack of them! 

 

The text tells the stories of two women (Mark 5: 21-end). Neither were named. One is identified only by her male parent, the other by her disability. It made me quite sad, neither was deemed important enough to be given their own identity, their name. 

 

The text also speaks of life transitions. The younger was twelve, just on the brink of womanhood, making a transition into the next stage of life. The other woman was also ready to make a life transition as she yearned for menopause and the fruitfulness of that stage. 

 

An important time for both of them — but not significant enough to give them a name! 

 

Both needed healing. Others sought it for the young girl, the older wiser woman sought it for herself. Both were healed and onlookers were “overcome by amazement (42)”. 

 

This morning, as I read the stories, I, too, am amazed. Not at the magnitude of the healings but that Jesus cared enough actually to see these unnamed women and tend to their needs. I rejoice in that and hope that I, too, will see those who are invisible.

 

 

Our year: Musing on to Love, to Serve, to Forgive

 

I concluded my last blog of 2020 with a quote — it began

 

“It was the best of times, 

it was the worst of times,”

 

(Charles Dickens, Tale of Two Cities) 

 

It still seems relevant today as I think back over the academic year 20/21. On this, the concluding day of our retreat, I reflected on the differences between this and previous years. This year, as a community, we have not been able to meet in person. There have been no face-to-face retreats either at our home or at Casowasco. There is something special about sitting together sharing conversation over a cup of tea or coffee. It has been a loss. 

 

But, there has been Zoom! Love it or hate it, Zoom has afforded opportunities that have benefitted us all. Perhaps, one of the main advantages has been our retreats have been readily available to everyone. No one has needed to consider finances for the retreat centre, for transportation or for child and dog care. It has brought a new depth of reality to the words “all are welcome”.

 

Our focus this academic year has been on our rule — to love, to serve, to forgive. I feel I have lived it — those words, that phrase seem to have been ever present. True with greater intensity as each retreat approached and the preparation began yet nevertheless constantly close to mind.

 

Over the last few months together, we have shared many conversations about love, service and ing. Now, we just have to live them! Or maybe, I should say, try to live them. I know there will be many occasions when I won’t love as I should, I will miss opportunities to serve and forgiveness will be slow to happen. 

 

But I won’t allow myself to be discouraged if I fall short. After all this is a journey — something I strive towards. I take heart from a phrase in the lectionary reading — “the love of Christ urges us on” (2 Corinthians, 5:14).  

 

I found the gospel reading equally encouraging. The text for this Sunday is the parable of the mustard seed (Mark 4: 26-34)— there is always something motivating about an image that depicts growth from a tiny seed to a big tree.

 

The mustard tree is one of my favourite images of the realm of God. Of course, when I think of the realm of God I am not looking for some distant future event but for the realm of God being established here on earth,  fulfilling what is repeated daily in the prayer that Jesus taught — “your realm come, your will be done on earth as in heaven”. 

 

The parable of the mustard tree is a lovely example of the use metaphor or picture language to help portray something which is too vast and too deep for humanity to comprehend. Each different image of the realm of God adds to overall picture but still one can only say “it is a bit like . . .”

 

Mustard trees are special. A mustard tree was chosen to provide an image of the Realm of God. Mustard trees (Salvadora perisca) grow in the Middle-East, India and North Africa. This evergreen shrub reaches both a height and width of twenty or thirty feet. Their leaves are dark green but lighten with age, their flowers are green or yellow and the fruit is purple. Their seeds are amongst of the smallest in the world.

 

The Mustard Tree was chosen as one image of the realm of God — or, to phrase it differently, the realm is a bit like a Mustard tree. I am always amazed at all the usages of a Mustard tree. It provides nourishment for human and non-human animals— the berries and seeds are eaten and leaves are used in salads. It offers protection — the birds shelter in its branches. It is a place of nurture as the birds nest and rear their young. And it offers health and healing, the fibrous branches are used to clean teeth while the leaves help cure many diseases including coughs, asthma and rheumatism.  Nourishment, protection, nurture and healing — what a great picture of the realm of God!

 

Trees have also featured in our retreats this year. A Love Tree was drawn at the Samhain retreat, a Service Tree was drawn at the Imbolc retreat and yesterday a Forgiving Tree was added. These trees dripped with fruit as participants added their comments about what to love, to serve and to forgive meant to them. I think our retreat trees also provide a glimpse into the realm of God. 

 

Look at some of the fruit. I’ll share just a few pieces from each of the abundance on each tree. Firstly, from our love tree — love of God’s creation, love of family, love of stranger, love of those cared for. Then from our service tree — love in action, acts of kindness, putting the Other first, giving of ourselves, being fully present to the Other. Finally, our forgiving tree — to let go of a desire for revenge, to give up anger and resentment, give up the desire to punish, to let go of past hurts, because of our humanity we need to practice forgiving, to keep healthy relationships. Rich fruit indeed!

 

As I look again at the fruit of our retreat trees, I can’t help but think that like the mustard tree these offer a glimpse into the realm of God. What a wonderful world!