Fringes and Faithfulness

By Lucy Strohl OPA ~ November 14, 2008

Readings: 2 John 4-9, Psalm119: 1-2, 10-11, 17-18, Gospel: Luke1:26-37

Dark and drab but very connected and beautiful--a bird's home I noticed for the first time the other day, a little sanctuary.  Sticks, leaves and the seemingly haphazard weaving of burlap fringe amid the twigs.  For some reason that image stayed with me as I reflected on these scriptures.  Tis the season!  I found a gift in a mostly barren tree.  But Christmas trees, ornaments and all kinds of enticements surround us as we come closer to more holidays and holy days. Yet this time is special, too.

In the church year, 'tis still the season of Ordinary Time. What does it mean?  Boring,  uneventful, undistinguished?  Ordinary comes from the word ordinal, meaning to count.   This liturgical time soon to be merging us into Advent, is counted time. Some say, "we just get through it".  The other seasons are so much more distinctive with violets and purples. Counted time holds our attention less closely. It's simply in-between. Yet Ordinary Time is very much like the ordinary, in-between times of our lives. This liturgical season is a celebration of overlapping cycles and rhythms. Along with the changing colors of sunrise and sunset we continue to weave strands in time through which eternity--God's time--is manifest.

During this Ordinary Time we’re still on the road with Jesus and his twists and turns with the disciples. Jesus teaches them the day of his return in glory will come quickly, unexpectedly. Jesus reminds his followers how unprepared people were in the days of Noah and Lot. He enjoins the disciples to pay attention to the lessons of past events. In the midst of ordinary tasks like eating and drinking, Jesus’ followers must come to a decision. Proximity to others and possessions offer no protection. Jesus pointedly asks the disciples and us to remain rooted in his teachings, walking in truth and love. The only way to be prepared is to make the PRESENT a time of trust and faithfulness. As we near the end of Ordinary Time, we might ask what name we would have for our own Season of Discipleship now. Do we realize how our own sticks and weathered splinters--our joys, hopes and longings--are the ordinary makings of graced time, too?

The author Wendy Wright notes that "the deep grammar of the church year's Ordinary Time is uttered most keenly in our ceaseless longing." Today's gospel tells us to be vigilant and to celebrate our longings.  We lean with our longing into the vision of a new time, a new community.  We remember those who have walked in truth, hand-in-hand with us.  They remind us that our lives and our longings are the very pathways by which we come face-to-face with God.  In this season of remembering all saints, sinners and holy souls, I couldn't help but think of Sr. Clarissa Kinzel OP, 99 at the time.  When questioned about how to prepare for other upcoming changes, she quietly but forthrightly responded: ‘I always ask, what would Dominic do?’ According to writer M.H.Vicaire OP, Dominic's choices were not exactly what we might think.  His first companions were not all outstanding by any means. They were simple, without much learning. Some were afraid of sacrifices.  Others lost their footing in material trappings. Among the first women were converted heretics and prostitutes. Dominic made disciples of mediocre people of good will. He placed his trust in the person each of them could become--and above all, in the grace of God to inspire them. Despite many, many losses and seeming defeats, Dominic walked in truth and he kept walking--joyfully, prayerfully--totally dependent on the real and passionate providence of God guiding him. Connecting as Dominicans of Peace, the colors and textures of our lives will continue to crisscross leaving what is courageous, sometimes frail and fringed--but still full of promise in God's eyes--to bless one another and our world.

Like the psalmist we seek you, Jesus, with all our hearts. Open our eyes, be our inner light.  Reveal to us the hidden wisdom you've nested in our souls.  Keep us on the path of truth.  Fill us with trust in your love.  For all our holy ancestors and for us--the passing of the seasons is never commonplace.  Bleak, barren trees and nests preach wordless sermons. It is the repetition and nature’s endless weaving that can finally open our eyes to God, to where God has always been-- totally entwined in our everyday tasks and tangles. May our hearts be strengthened by Dominic's unyielding faithfulness in proclaiming the Gospel.  We bring ourselves and our longings to this table. We come again to renew our trust in each other, our world and our passionately loving and Provident God.