And over all these virtues put on love,
which binds them all together in perfect unity.
Colossians 3:14

    Sometimes I think about how I became who I have become. The casual review of the exhibitions of my experience is a little like wandering through an unusual museum. We are all products of an infinite number of past incidences, some good, some bad, patches of memory held together by a binding thread. It's quite a collection: Scenes of glory, painful rejections, outstanding achievement, outstanding futility, awesome beauty, repulsive filth, inspiring beneficence, incredible evil, joyful life and anguished death; they stand side-by-side in our own personal tapestries and are drawn upon as each new situation begs a response.
    If I stand far enough away, I view the patchwork as a blurred montage where an overall image emerges from the many pieces. Some people may refer to this image as a personality. Others may call it a collective psyche. Others may refer to it as wisdom. I refer to mine simply as a quilt (Sometimes it looks more like a pepperoni pizza, but most of the time it's a quilt). After more than a few decades, there is some fraying and fading and tearing going on here amongst the otherwise tranquil field of scraps. Annoyingly, there are larger patches that hog the landscape and rise to the forefront of my brain incessantly despite my efforts to inhibit them. And occasionally I am inclined to go into uncharted territories and try things that do not fit; in essence, I sew "a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment" which only serves to "pull away from the garment, making the tear worse" (Matthew 9:16). A certain tattered look can begin to expose itself if the proper maintenance is not observed.
    The quilt must be cared for. There is a book that I try to read on a regular basis that gives me divine instructions of exactly how to keep my existence properly maintained. Vastly more informative than reading the back of a box of Tide, this book tells me that as one of "God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved", I should clothe myself "with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience." (Colossians 3:12). I should forgive whatever grievances I may have against others; I should forgive as the Lord forgave me. These are difficult teachings for us ragged humans, but the best part about my quilt is that it is constantly growing so that with the help of God, I can add the patches that show me the Way.
    And the binding thread that holds these virtues together and keeps me from tearing apart? Love...of course. It may sound too simple ("God is Love"); it may sound too hackneyed ( All You Need is Love ); it may even sound commercial to those who have become too jaded. But when I am on my deathbed and my children are looking into my eyes for the last time and ask me what I can tell them about this museum of incidences we call life, I will only say, "Love your God. 'Love your neighbors as yourselves.' The rest is easy".
    Then they can fold me up and put me away.

Dear Heavenly Father,
    Guide us in our earthly lives. Let your Holy Spirit iron out our individuality; let Jesus forgive our sins so that we may be presented to you as radiant beings, "without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless". Amen. (Ephesians 5:27)

Contributed by Donald
Sunday May 31, 2009
Liturgical Year B Week 23
Sunday Gospel Readings:
Day of Pentecost