When you look at your spouse
with shrugged shoulders weighed down with regret
and you say to a face that is broken by disappointment
I’m sorry
When you visit someone in hospice
and you wake her from sleep –
and with eyes still closed –
all she can manage to say
over and over
but with no clear recipient
is an apology: I’m sorry; I’m so sorry
When you run into a friend, unexpectedly
after not speaking to her or returning her calls
and you see the rejection and hurt flicker in her eyes
and you rush, too quickly (and too late)
to tell her the truth – that, indeed, you are sorry –
but you both know the pain you have caused
which cannot be taken back
When you did anything else in your life
that you wish had been only a dream,
and you grimace when it comes to mind
and your only hope is to forget about it again
because that’s the only thing you can do
When you realize your own failure, your inadequacy
your lack (or excess) of virtue
when you see so clearly the frailty of the people around you
and the dignity and kindness they deserve but do not receive
when you want to shut your own eyes from the world
and hide from its pain
and when you want to hide
from the pain weighing down your own heart
but only find yourself uttering
silently in your soul: I’m sorry; I’m so sorry
When you feel dispirited and despondent, despairing and barren
I pray for you, I pray with you, I pray next to you
I pray you would hear, alongside your grief and regret
in anticipation of
and response to your cries
a voice that speaks to your more deeply than your own
A voice of one who dwelt among us and loved us
even when we behave like strangers to love and grace
and who, as he faced his own death
thought kindly of us
and prayed on our behalf
So that you and I might be granted what we fear even to ask
that you and I might be released from the burden
of guilt and sin
shame and regret
and that our constant, silent apology for the pain we cause
might not only be heard
But also forgiven
and set aside
no longer to be counted against us
no longer to be hurled in our face as a weapon
no longer something to be feared
or overcome by.
***
When you wake from your slumber before dawn
and notice the sound of birds singing to each other
for the first time since winter
had turned the days colder and the nights longer
When you realize how deeply
you missed their presence
and how much they calm your spirit
and you wake earlier in the morning
so you can settle into their cadence,
with no other sound in the world but theirs
When an absence you had grown used to
is spontaneously filled by beauty
and your reason for getting out of bed
is so subtle, but so compelling
that you cannot will yourself back to sleep
When the harsh winds settle
and the evening light tarries
a while longer
and you gaze outside your window
and smile at what you see
When you ease into
the remembered rhythm
of taking time to be outside again
to fill yourself with fresh air
to note the colors and scenes
of your ever-interesting world
refashioning itself once more
right in front of you
When you reconnect with an old friend
whose company you thought you had enjoyed the last of
and when you both find yourselves
comfortable with each other
more comfortable, even
now that you have grown into more of who
you were always becoming
When the smallest remnant of a candle
is lit early one morning
and against any expectation
a flame flickers in the dark
its light dancing above on the ceiling
And you are reminded
of every small miracle you have witnessed
when you have kindled a fire
out of nothing
But damp twigs and branches
cast down from their homes in the trees
and consigned to the ground
to grow no more
When something that was trod upon
and broken
and buried under leaves
When what was once discarded and pushed aside to be forgotten
is suddenly raised from the earth and reinvigorated
ignited, and transformed into
light and warmth and fearsome fire –
Because the world needs it: It needs
more light, more warmth, more grace, more kindness, more charity, more justice, more vision
more of the fearsome fire of God –
Always dispelling the dark silence of night and death
and forever drawing out our gaze
unceasingly the master of our attention
unfailingly our guide through the day
and our guard through the night
When you are inspired all over again
when you are changed from the dull ache of death and fear and into something new
that is God’s goodness flowing once more
this time perceptibly
into your life and into the world around you.
The world needs a fire to be kindled
not only out of the brittle branches of our broken Lord
but also out of what time and capacities
we have been given to command
God intends to make a fire
to burn brightly out of each one of our fallen-apart lives
We can resist, of course
overcome with amazement and fear at what might come our way
we can remain forever silent
when we ask ourselves what we believe in our hearts happened that first Easter morning
we can stay down on the ground
buried under the leaves
forever to have our hearts trod upon and our lives disregarded
Or
We can allow God to do something new with us
something we could never imagine
To raise us up, as well
from where we find ourselves
to reinvigorate us unexpectedly and against all odds
and to be transformed with Christ into
new light, new warmth, a new fearsome fire from God
because the world needs a fire to be kindled: It needs
more light, more warmth, more grace, more kindness, more charity, more justice, and more vision
and God has come to raise you from the leaves.
Hampden United Methodist Church 