Rejoice in the Lord always:
and again I say, Rejoice
Philippians 3:1
King James Version
I am taking as my text a passage quoted in the John Adams PBS documentary. In his retirement, Adams renewed his studies of the Bible and took great comfort in Paul's letter to the Philippians. The Epistle's constant call to rejoice in the midst of adversity appealed to Adams and became the text by which he lived out the remainder of his life.
As the seasons change, I am faced with the annual delightful dilemma of deciding if the current season is not my favorite. In August, I felt apprehension as the summer respite from the stresses of school ended, but perhaps the harsh heat and drought of this past summer made the fall even more attractive.
After bulking up at our feeders in hoards during the month of August, the birds suddenly depart and we usually notice a silence the first morning following Labor Day weekend. We joke that the birds stay for the Labor Day parties and then head south. However, this year (because of the heat?), the goldfinches have stayed longer. This morning (I am writing on September 17) there were six Goldfinches hanging on the feed sock and I noticed one bird (a mother?) feeding Niger seeds to another bird (a grown nestling?) and then suddenly playfully lunge at the freeloader. "Grow up," she seemed to say. In the evenings recently, I have noticed all the Goldfinches gathering on some clumps of 8-feet tall grass. As they perch on a long stem, it gently sways down and then up again. As I watch, a single bird moves to another stem and it sways too giving the other birds on the stem a free ride. I watch what appears to be an avian teeter-totter as one bird after another switches position. I assume they are beginning to form a flock that will soon depart for warmer climates.
I rejoice in the birds. I love their appetites, their games, their maternal feelings. They amuse me when they line up on the roof of an empty feeder, facing our breakfast nook window, and begin to scold. They remind me to do my chores.
I have learned I cannot fix everything, and that it is arrogant to think we can wipe out evil in the world. More importantly, I have learned to rejoice even when in the midst of adversity, like Paul waiting for Nero to feed him to the Lions, or like Adams adjusting to the end of his political career. Rejoicing is relaxing. It is like a narcotic, which allows you to rise above the pain and look down on it. The pain does not go away, it just becomes endurable.
Dear God, Thank you for the bountiful challenges and disappointments in life. Thank you for the passing of loved ones, for life-renewing natural disasters, and for noticing the fall of a sparrow. Amen
Contributed by Susan
Sunday September 26, 2010
Liturgical Year C Week 44
Sunday Gospel reading:
Lectionary 26 (Proper 21)
Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost