27 November 2017

a deep well



Something Henri Nouwen said of writing is “it can open in us deep wells of hidden treasures that are beautiful for us as well as for others to see.”

A deep well of hidden treasure.  My well feels so deep that I can’t see the bottom.  Let me lower that bucket and see what comes up.  Is it bone dry?  Is it at least moist?  Wow, maybe there’s some water to quench the thirsty traveler.  Maybe there’s something down there after all.


“Those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty.”  Give me some of that.  Prime the pump.  Let the words flow.  Can their impotence, their powerlessness, their ugliness, be something life-giving, something to be admired?  They need spirit; they need fire.  They need a butt-kicking.

Is it enough to write just for the sake of writing?  I think so.  Is it the will of God?  That’s a good question!  Never mind—just do it.

02 November 2017

all souls’ day



Today is All Souls’ Day, which has acquired various meanings.  For a large part of the church, it is the finale of the commemoration and remembrance of the faithful departed—from All Hallows Eve and All Saints’ Day.  Traditionally in the Roman Catholic Church, it was the day of prayer for those in purgatory, so that their stay and release from there would be expedited!  In Mexico, today is the consummation of el Día de los Muertos (the Day of the Dead).  It is a joyful, festive celebration honoring those who have passed on.

For many centuries, the beginning of November has been associated with death, as the leaves fall and the earth prepares for its slumber.  But it is also a time of “thin places,” where our realm and the realms beyond draw near.  It is a time for visitation between the earthly and the celestial.  Thin places are not restricted to this time, however.  They can appear anywhere and anytime.

I am reminded of Dag Hammarskjöld’s meditation in Markings:

“Tomorrow we shall meet,
Death and I—
And he shall thrust his sword
Into one who is wide awake.

But in the meantime how grievous the memory
Of hours frittered away.”

The passing is not without its sadness, but all will be changed in the new creation in the limitless love of God.