Stared
Lord God, mercy is in your hands, pour
me a little. ~Mary
Oliver
The
weather was hot and dry, the way a summer day in August should feel.
Laughter mixed with the sound of
splashing was peaceful until suddenly there was a cry—a voice from somewhere
among the crowded swimmers creaming, “Help! Please Help! Help!” The voice was
urgent, terrified, and piercing.
Quickly the father stood up and began
scanning the water until he located the boy’s distressed face, tilted upward,
barely above the waterline, fearfully screaming. As he looked on with panic, he
noticed other parents and teenagers stood a few feet away, watching in shock,
watching in uncertainty, watching…and yet doing nothing to help the
screaming boy.
Why
wasn’t anyone helping this kid?!
Quickly a big burly man, with white
water exploding from his knees and his own child tucked under his arm, crashed
and splashed his way through the water towards the little boy. As parents
pulled their kids back out of his way he shouted “Somebody help that kid!
Somebody grab him!”
But
for some reason…no one was wiling to act.
As they stared the courageous
bystander, now waist deep, bent forward straining against the thick water,
stretched out his one free arm, yanked the boy out of the water, and brought
him tight against his chest. The boy, desperately relieved, wrapped both arms
and legs around him and clung tight. Then slowly, gently they made their way to
the beach and the man sat the boy in the sand. He knelt down and comforted the
young lad until his parents arrived.
***
Life is scary. We humans are small,
fragile, and limited. Like the boy in the lake, many of our prayers often begin
in fear or confusion—many of them are some version of “Help me!” or “Have mercy
on me!” Sometimes our prayers are so filled with our own worry and anxiety that
we forget to stop talking and just listen to what God is doing. But when we do
stop and listen, even though our prayers are filled with cravings and needs and
sufferings and loneliness, we notice that God responds to us with rest and
peace and love and comfort.
It is as if we can feel God wading
through the waters, stretching out an arm and calling to us, “Hang on! I’m on
the way!”
There are many scary situations
occurring throughout the world right now. Perhaps you are asking, “What can I
do, in small-town U.S.A., about these much larger issues?” Or maybe you do your
best not to turn on the nightly news because the scenes of violence are too
much. Both responses are reasonable, since we often react with a “fight or
flight” mentality.
So what are we to do?
Listen.
As Christine
Sine, contemplative Christian and gardener has said recently, “Listening and
giving full attention to those who have been victims or perpetrators of
violence means that we do not run from it. We do not pretend that violence is
not happening and we do not pretend that it does not involve us. We recognize
its horror and we gird up or spirits to take a stand.”
We
need to listen to the pain and the grief that creates violence, listen to the
stories that tell of the results of violence and listen to the stories of how
God’s reconciling love can and has been shown in the midst of that. We also
need to listen to the hopes and dreams of the victims of violence. So often
these reflect the cry for a more just and equitable society in which peace,
equality and justice is shown to all.
By
responding out of love not hate or indifference to, we welcome a stranger who
is often very difficult for us to embrace. And in so doing we can often find
that we are embracing and welcoming Christ into our midst.
***
Have
you ever seen a small child cry when they are scared? Have you noticed that
when their parents come and hold them, they cry harder at first, releasing all
the hurt and fear? Eventually the cries slow down and get quieter and then at
the end, just before the crying stops, the children take a deep breath and let
out a long sigh, a release of all the tension and fear.
This
is what it means to pray—we cry out [with fear or joy], we wait for the One who
loves us, we allow ourselves to be held, we empty out our real fears and need
[or our real joy and gratitude], and then we rest, knowing our lives are held
in the hands of love.
I
invite you to take a few minutes in silence to contemplate the following prayer
from Psalm 46
1
God is our refuge and strength,
a
very present help in trouble.
2
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though
the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
3
though its waters roar and foam,
though
the mountains tremble with its tumult.
10
‘Be still, and know that I am God!
Friends, may we
continue to pray for people in Ferguson, Iraq, Gaza, Syria, Afghanistan,
Ukraine--and for those suffering in the house next door.
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