The picture accompanying the article in a piece I just read both lured me to look closely and heightened some fear in me. The picture looked like a blazing inferno. It clearly was a mighty fire or conflagration of some kind. The reds, oranges and yellows dominated the picture. It obviously looked hotter than hell! I read the caption below the blazing image to confirm it was a forest fire being blown out of control. Fear is the appropriate response to such a sight. Just looking at the image is intimidating. To be in the actual presence of such a fire would be even more scary. And to have to cope with the reality of the fire descending on me or my property would be devastating.
The article was entitled, “Beneath a smooth surface, a bubbling of fear and instability.” The author, Amy Morris-Young, is someone I have before encountered. I like the way she thinks about spirituality and translates it into her daily life. She offers a kind of realistic hope to me and, no doubt, other readers. I was ready to read what she had to say. I appreciated her engaging opening. “My usual wake-up routine is to open my eyes and whisper, ‘Hi, God.’ Then I lie there, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and send out prayers for folks I am aware are in need of some extra help today.”
Her direction made sense. She comments that life today is so calamitous, it is hard to know for whom to direct her prayers. There are natural disasters, political disasters and other kinds of disasters. I suppose she needs to pray for all of us, but this is not very focused. And probably some of us need prayer more than others. So I read on to see how she was going to think her way through this dilemma. Her first thought is not very reassuring. “In terms of prayer or more tangible ways to help, I barely know where to start.”
The direction of her thinking won’t be liked by all, but it resonates with me. She says, “It seems to have occurred to many that Mother Earth is angry. She is shaking us off her great back like an irritated animal dislodging its rider because of our generally poor stewardship of her resources.” I do think we have not been very kind to Mother Earth. And I certainly qualify as a sinner on this score. Morris-Young is going to help me think about it.
I was taken aback a bit when she re-directed the focus. “While there may be some truth in that — as our species has wantonly polluted this planet, allowed global warming, and in general treated our only home as disposable for eons — the greater truth is that in the midst of our busy lives, it is easy to forget that all of us dwell on a violent, ever-changing Earth.” We have not done such a hot job taking care of Mother Earth, but Morris-Young asks us not to forget the nature of our earthly home.
Mother Earth herself is a violent, ever-changing place. I agree. I appreciated her commentary on her own observation about Mother Earth. “We pretend we own things — our homes, our cars, our places of business — but in actuality, we simply rent space between poles of ice on a thin crust covering an orb of intensely hot and unstable magma.” I both laugh and cringe at this description of life on earth. We are living on rented space between two poles of ice. That’s pretty good! And earth’s surface is merely a thin crust. It tells me we are vulnerable!
It is easy to forget a basic truth about life on this earth. And in this forgetting, spirituality is implicated. Morris-Young reminds us, “we assume stability where there is only fragility. The only constant on our evolving planet is change.” It would be easy to note all those aspects of our lives where we assume stability. The list would range from the way we view ourselves to our property and maybe even relationships. But I think Amy Morris-Young probably is right: there is only fragility. Change is the name of the game. And so we are left with instability, vulnerability and change.
As I said, for me this implicates spirituality. The one thing spirituality adds to this three-fold description of life---instability, vulnerability and change---is the Spirit. I see the Spirit as part of the evolutionary whole. And somehow, it is a whole. In the midst of the moment, we directly experience instability, vulnerability and change. But the end of the process---and this is a faith statement for me---is healing and wholeness.
From this faith position I live life. And in response to this faith position I feel called to be part of the healing, wholeness process. I want to minimize how problematic I am in the world. And I would like to maximize the preciousness I can be. This is how Jesus models it for us. And all the saints of the centuries modeled it in their own way. We should do as much in our own ways.
It is our world. But it is not exclusively our world. It is our world and we have our chances. I prefer to take a chance on healing and wholeness. I recognize in this moment there are so many other folks taking chances on pollution, bigotry, etc. We are called to a different model.
The article was entitled, “Beneath a smooth surface, a bubbling of fear and instability.” The author, Amy Morris-Young, is someone I have before encountered. I like the way she thinks about spirituality and translates it into her daily life. She offers a kind of realistic hope to me and, no doubt, other readers. I was ready to read what she had to say. I appreciated her engaging opening. “My usual wake-up routine is to open my eyes and whisper, ‘Hi, God.’ Then I lie there, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and send out prayers for folks I am aware are in need of some extra help today.”
Her direction made sense. She comments that life today is so calamitous, it is hard to know for whom to direct her prayers. There are natural disasters, political disasters and other kinds of disasters. I suppose she needs to pray for all of us, but this is not very focused. And probably some of us need prayer more than others. So I read on to see how she was going to think her way through this dilemma. Her first thought is not very reassuring. “In terms of prayer or more tangible ways to help, I barely know where to start.”
The direction of her thinking won’t be liked by all, but it resonates with me. She says, “It seems to have occurred to many that Mother Earth is angry. She is shaking us off her great back like an irritated animal dislodging its rider because of our generally poor stewardship of her resources.” I do think we have not been very kind to Mother Earth. And I certainly qualify as a sinner on this score. Morris-Young is going to help me think about it.
I was taken aback a bit when she re-directed the focus. “While there may be some truth in that — as our species has wantonly polluted this planet, allowed global warming, and in general treated our only home as disposable for eons — the greater truth is that in the midst of our busy lives, it is easy to forget that all of us dwell on a violent, ever-changing Earth.” We have not done such a hot job taking care of Mother Earth, but Morris-Young asks us not to forget the nature of our earthly home.
Mother Earth herself is a violent, ever-changing place. I agree. I appreciated her commentary on her own observation about Mother Earth. “We pretend we own things — our homes, our cars, our places of business — but in actuality, we simply rent space between poles of ice on a thin crust covering an orb of intensely hot and unstable magma.” I both laugh and cringe at this description of life on earth. We are living on rented space between two poles of ice. That’s pretty good! And earth’s surface is merely a thin crust. It tells me we are vulnerable!
It is easy to forget a basic truth about life on this earth. And in this forgetting, spirituality is implicated. Morris-Young reminds us, “we assume stability where there is only fragility. The only constant on our evolving planet is change.” It would be easy to note all those aspects of our lives where we assume stability. The list would range from the way we view ourselves to our property and maybe even relationships. But I think Amy Morris-Young probably is right: there is only fragility. Change is the name of the game. And so we are left with instability, vulnerability and change.
As I said, for me this implicates spirituality. The one thing spirituality adds to this three-fold description of life---instability, vulnerability and change---is the Spirit. I see the Spirit as part of the evolutionary whole. And somehow, it is a whole. In the midst of the moment, we directly experience instability, vulnerability and change. But the end of the process---and this is a faith statement for me---is healing and wholeness.
From this faith position I live life. And in response to this faith position I feel called to be part of the healing, wholeness process. I want to minimize how problematic I am in the world. And I would like to maximize the preciousness I can be. This is how Jesus models it for us. And all the saints of the centuries modeled it in their own way. We should do as much in our own ways.
It is our world. But it is not exclusively our world. It is our world and we have our chances. I prefer to take a chance on healing and wholeness. I recognize in this moment there are so many other folks taking chances on pollution, bigotry, etc. We are called to a different model.
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