We have arrived at the threshold of the last week of 2020. Some of you just mumbled and muttered to yourself, “Thanks be to God” or “Good riddance!” Or maybe you find yourself start singing, “So long! Farewell! Aufwiedersehn! Goodnight,” from The Sound of Music. That song is now going to be stuck on repeat in your mind all day long, you are welcome. Seriously, we will remember this year, and not necessarily for warm, happy reasons. A pandemic that torn up and tossed out the window the playbook of how we live our lives with vacations canceled and special events postponed. The murder of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor and too many other young African-Americans that shined a light bright on the systemic racism in our country and the hard, holy work that needs to be done. An election that spotlighted how polarized and distrustful we are of each other. Economic turmoil of jobs loss; people continuing to endure suffering and struggling to put food on the table or afford the roof over their heads. For us in the church, worship and ministry shifted entirely online. If 2020 was a movie it would be nominated for Golden Raspberry (which if you don’t know is the opposite of the Oscars for universally panned and awful movies).
But wait, as Richard Rohr points out, what causes us to grow is both moments of great love and great suffering. “Any journey of great love or great suffering makes us go deeper into our faith and eventually into what can only be called universal truth. Love and suffering are finally the same, because those who love deeply are committing themselves to eventual suffering, as we see in Jesus. And those who suffer often become the greatest lovers.”
Sit with that quote for just a moment.
I know we live in a world that overvalues success. We always want to be thriving and striving for more and what is new/next. Where improvement and forward progress are rewarded and any stumbling or steps backwards are personal failures with blame and shame. To hold great suffering as a teacher seems counter-culture to everything we have been taught and told.
This week I want us to lean into the lessons and learnings from this past year. I will share some insights I have from the last twelve months.
For today, I want you to take a piece of paper and reflect on your year. You can start with the highlights and lowlights of your experiences and encounters. But then, move on to books or movies that still stay with you. List moments of simple joy that sing forth from your soul. New experiences (like preaching from my living room) that I didn’t even know were part of my future last January. Reflect on your life today as you continue to burn the candles of hope, peace, love, and joy with the Christ light at the center of all that has been, is, and will be.
Prayer: God open my heart to all that I carry with me from this year into the next, to notice the truth of Psalm 23 that You are there from mountain top moments to valley dwelling and every place in-between. Amen.
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