Genesis 45: 1-15, Psalm 78: 1-39 and 40-72, 1 Corinthians 7: 32-40, Mark 6: 1-13
This Lent I am trying to be a better listener, more self-aware, more patient. Rich mentioned early on in his preamble to this on-line Lenten meditation space how Lent can be a journey to become more self-aware, and how Jesus reminds us not to be blind to our own faults, not to focus on the splinter in someone else's eye when we have a branch in our own. This Lent I am making a special effort not to interrupt others’ contributions in casual conversations, work meetings or phone
calls. (I say a “special effort” as I come from a long line of
impatient interrupters!) Even more difficult for me, I am trying not to be as bothered by others’ interruptions or even outright rejections, by those people in our life who do not listen well, do not hear or heed what we have to say. I am not sure how well I am doing, but I have been trying, asking myself whether I am doing everything I can not to be that person, not to be either the “interrupting chicken” or that self-involved person who needs everyone to listen and agree with her. In short, I am trying to be more Zen, “to care and not to care,” as T.S. Eliot wrote, to listen, to wait.
Along those lines, I wanted to be a gentle reader (a good listener?) of today’s Scripture for the daily office to find an uplifting and inspiring thread, but as I read and reread I couldn’t help but get a little, well, riled by these Old and New Testament “dark sayings of old” rife with exorcism, misogamy, unclean spirits, demons and destroying angels. My initial thoughts were more snippet-like, fragmented and reactive rather than reverent reflections on a thread. Initially
I might have even perhaps felt a little unlucky to have been assigned
this particular assortment of readings, this particular combination of the “diverse voices found in Holy Scripture.” I felt and continue to feel maybe too irreverent as I reflect here, but I have found struggling to listen better and to read Scripture better engaging, productive. My
worry, my concern as I read first Genesis, then the Psalm, then Paul’s
letter and finally Mark’s Gospel was how could I draw other readers in with any thread when I often winced as I read? I sense I might be taking us away from the text instead, reading against it, but I am always trying to find my way (in).
Earlier
meditations this month have taken up the problem of confronting or
rather letting go of one’s fears and anxieties and those reflections
have really resonated with me, a person who is a wicked worrier (wicked in the Wusstah sense of the word, of course.). In
this vein, Paul ‘s letter to the Corinthians starts off with such a
welcome wish to the reader, “I want you to be free from anxieties.” What a lovely thought! Myself, I was thinking especially of how overwhelmed with anxiety one can become when worrying about serious illness , and what a blessing it is not to be burdened by that sort of anxiety … but as I read on in Paul’s letter I quickly realized that Paul seemed to blaming woes and worries on marriage. So I will leave the rest of that reading alone. I tried but couldn’t get past that thorny issue, couldn’t peacefully ponder the reading as a whole.
Similarly, I find little consolation in Psalm 78 that is so focused on God’s wrath, his might. I find the talk of demons and unclean spirits in Mark’s gospel a
bit alienating, too, but overall am struck by how well this reading
expresses this notion of caring and not caring and the problem of
listening. “He said to them, ‘Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If
any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you
leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against
them.’” (Full disclosure: I am not someone comfortable with the notion
of proselytizing and I still wince and want to “interrupt” the speaker
before he reaches the end of that last line, “Shake off the dust that is
on your feet as a testimony against them.” To my mind, doing anything, even just some small symbolic act, against someone else seems to be less Zen than just shaking the dust off your feet, but, well, it is what it is, I can’t edit it/interrupt my citing of the text to make it more palatable to me.)
Most of all, Jesus’ advice to his disciples here resonates with me because it’s such tough advice to follow. He’s
providing detailed instructions on how they should live and serve
rather selflessly which would suggest their words and work matter
deeply… but then advising them to not take it personally when their
words and works aren’t welcome, “when they refuse to hear you.” And
the reading tells us that the disciples were still able to carry on or
move on with their mission effectively and stay true to their calling. I
think it’s important to remember that not everyone we encounter in life
(and sometimes especially those we work or have worked with most
closely), will welcome or honor us, recognize our talents or listen or agree to what we have to say or what we hold dear, but we don’t have to lose heart, surrender our vision or passion. We have to just let it go,as they say, shake the dust off our feet, and move on. I don’t think Jesus is telling his disciples not to care or to just give up. He’s letting them know they cannot worry, we
cannot worry, and they certainly shouldn’t give it all up if every last
person doesn’t want to listen to them, believe what they believe or
recognize or appreciate who they are. Nonetheless, they are still called to serve and they do. I pray for that kind of courage and commitment (and freedom from anxiety!) for all of us this Lenten season.
Kathleen S.
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