Daily Dose (May 20 – 23)

TUESDAY MAY 20 —

I’ve loved the book, “The Little Prince”, since I was a boy.
It’s a great story about a restorative paradigm shift, in the way we see the world.
The Little Prince rules on a small planet known as Asteroid 325. On that planet there also live a single rose, which the Little Prince loves yet causes him all manner of grief with her pretentiousness and need for constant affection. To cure his wounded heart, the Little Prince decides to leave his rose and travel the galaxy.
After he lands on Earth, the Little Prince climbs a mountain so that he might get a better view. From the top he sees hundreds of roses in a garden, a revelation that causes him to sit down and weep. His rose had assured him that she was special and that it was a privilege to love her. But here in one garden alone there are hundred just like her. If she is but an ordinary rose, who, the, is he?
He meets a fox, who give him new eyes…
The fox says, “To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.”
But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat…”
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.
“Please, tame me!” he said.”
(Thank you Antoine de Saint-Exupéry)
(And a shoutout to Bishop Marianne Budde for her book, “How we learn to be Brave”)

“Tame me”—another way of saying, “give me a reason—the grounding—to be invested”. To be here now: In life, and in the choices I make.
Another way of saying, “Take me out of—set me free from—the box I’ve used to contain and confine life.”
We open our heart. And it gives us the courage to say Yes—and validates what we say Yes to.

“I hope you will also think about what you are saying yes to in life.” Maria Shriver writes, “Is it what you want to say yes to without a shadow of a doubt? Is it a yes you are proud of, a yes that you feel committed to, a yes that you feel is making a difference? I hope the answer is a resounding yes. And if it’s not, perhaps think about the unimaginable and what’s possible for you that you haven’t even dreamed of yet. You never know.”

WEDNESDAY MAY 21 — Last night, while relishing the evening air, outside on a restaurant patio in Port Townsend, WA, looking out at Puget Sound, toward the islands of Marrowstone and Whidbey, a rainbow graces the sky. Every conversation stops on the patio, and people are standing, and you can hear them say, “Loook.” And I’m smiling, real big.
Because I too, point, and say, “Loook.”
I didn’t have the words, but Angela Abraham does, “The rainbow is God’s graffiti, drawn with random perfection into any dreary sky. It is there when the rain comes, a sort of optical joke to lift our spirits, letting us know that even on our grey days the boldest of colours can leap.”

Here’s what I do know: The rainbow is a blessing, and an invitation to spill light in a world where darkness harms and belittles.
And we forget, there is a rainbow alive inside of every one of us. Waiting for a moment to shine. A rainbow—a word, a touch, a hug—a gift of hope and affirmation.
Angela again, “Come rainbow to make your arch upon the sky, to make your picture where there is no canvas and bring joy without a single word. Come rainbow into this bold blue air and stretch to those clouds that are so pristine in the rays of a new day. Come rainbow and show your colours as pretty as any firework, yet in ways that stay for far longer and in your subtle ways.”

The fun part about a rainbow is the amazing spectrum of light: a band of familiar colors that include red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet.
I can tell you that I don’t often think of myself as a spectrum of light, or a gift of hope. And yet. I take heart in this, from Rev. Steven Charleston, Choctaw elder and retired Episcopal bishop. “It is not for me to tell you who you are, but please let me share this small insight. The beauty of your life is contained in its simplicity. You were born to be an agent of grace, sharing kindness into the world. You are an unconscious healer, restoring hope into the world. These two simple definitions are a spiritual job description. They represent the core of your calling. I believe they describe all of us, uniting us into a shared purpose. Beyond all of the differences we construct among ourselves, we have a common task. Agents of grace. Sources of hope. If we see ourselves in this way, the complexity we imagine becomes the simplicity we are.”
And I say “thank you”, to every one of you, for the rainbow moments you give to our world, and to the people around you.

Let’s give Angela the last word, “Rainbow draw yourself upon this blessed sky; bring the colours that spark a wonder that stays within. Show me the red that is proud of its vivid shine and the purple that brings a regality over each person regardless of status. Rainbow be the doorway in which all around you is home, a place the soul feels both free and safe.”
Amen.

THURSDAY MAY 22 — Now is the time. To be involved. To “get in the game”. To commit. To promise. To make a stand.
This I know: I believe that we all want to make a difference. Or make the world a better place where peace and mercy and compassion are alive and well.
What does that look like?
Do you remember Jesus’ parable about a lost sheep?
A shepherd had one hundred sheep. And one of them is lost. And the shepherd leaves the ninety-nine sheep, to go out and find the lost one. And when he finds the lost sheep, he brings him home.
And Jesus said, “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’” (Gospel of Luke)
Now is the time.

The news this week felt a bit unnerving. And many conversations (phone and email) about our world (and our place in it), and how it is easy to feel, or to be, quite literally, lost. And lost is not just a GPS malfunction.
Too many know what it means to be disconnected, discounted, diminished, demeaned. Lost.
In the parable, the shepherd doesn’t blame the lost one. Or give advice. Or admonish. Because to the shepherd, that sheep is not just a number, but a face, a name, and a story.
The shepherd knew that some stories are too heavy to carry alone. That every one of us at some time in our life will need the loving arms of justice, mercy, reconciliation and unmerited grace.
And here’s the deal: some days we are the one lost. And some days, we are the hands and feet of the shepherd.
Celebrant: Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?
People: I will, with God’s help. (The baptismal covenant in the Episcopal Church.)

It is so true that the tsunami of noise (and spin) distracts and overwhelms. And when I simply react (letting my anger get the best of me) it diminishes my capacity to choose, to make a difference. And the tsunami wins. Because it drowns my voice (and battens my ears); which means I can’t hear the good news, the truth that I still have a role to play.
“To bring about change, you must not be afraid to take the first step. We will fail when we fail to try.” (Thank you, Rosa Parks)
We’re afraid to let “try” be our first step. And we’re afraid to let “fail” be our second step. And because of that, we never see the joy of finding lost sheep, and carrying them home.
The Talmud reminds us, “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.”

The garden is pure delight now. Lupine, foxglove, bearded Iris, Old Garden Roses and Allium all in bloom. And the goslings getting bigger by the day. I told them that I sure do enjoy talking with them every day.

And today, I’ve been carrying in my mind and humming the words to Ripple,
“Reach out your hand, if your cup be empty
If your cup is full, may it be again
Let it be known there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of men”
(Ripple, Grateful Dead)

FRIDAY MAY 23 —

My good friend Ed Kilbourne wrote a song called Promised Land.
“There’s a place they call the promised land where people live by grace
The leaders are their servants, the last ones win the race
And those who love are wealthy and those who hate are poor
And honor’s won by making peace, not by making war
And everyone’s invited when the kingdom feast is spread
They remember how they got there in the breaking of the bread
They pass a cup around the room to every tear stained face
And drink a toast to Jesus as they sing Amazing Grace”

Yesterday we talked about the parable of the lost sheep. And the shepherd who went out of his way to bring the lost one home. A reminder that some days, we are the one lost. And some days, we are the hands and feet of the shepherd.
Bryan Stevenson’s book “Just Mercy” is good for the heart, and an invitation to step up and be involved. Available in movie form as well, it is the story of young lawyer and his history-making battle for justice. After graduating from Harvard, Bryan had his pick of lucrative jobs. Instead, he heads to Alabama to defend those wrongly condemned or who were not afforded proper representation, with the support of local advocate Eva Ansley. One of his first, and most incendiary, cases is that of Walter McMillian, who, in 1987, was sentenced to die for the notorious murder of an 18-year-old girl, despite a preponderance of evidence proving his innocence and the fact that the only testimony against him came from a criminal with a motive to lie. In the years that follow, Bryan becomes embroiled in a labyrinth of legal and political maneuverings and overt and unabashed racism as he fights for Walter, and others like him, with the odds-and the system-stacked against them.
There’s a great scene where Bryan says to his worried Mother, “You taught me to fight for the people that need help the most.”
Because some stories are too heavy to carry alone.
Episcopal bishop Steven Charleston writes about how prophets arise in periods of crisis or “apocalypse” to chart a message of resilience and hope. Here is his invitation to every one of us, “I invite you to join me in becoming a prophet… It does not matter what your race or religion might be. It does not matter what age or gender you are. We can all become prophets in our own time. We are all needed.”

As a young pastor, I would ask people to be involved with certain ministries—many having to do with real life trauma, supporting people and finding a place for healing and community and redemption. It’s messy work. And many, who found healing in these gatherings themselves, would answer, “I’d love to be involved, but I’m sorry I can’t. I’m not even remotely qualified.”
And my answer, “Good, then you’re perfect for the job.”
Skill sets are one thing. We can teach them. And procedures and protocols can be learned (and in too many cases in church, they can be happily unlearned).
But a whole heart, an honest awareness and admission of what it means to be a lost sheep, to know sorrow in your heart, and a willingness to set down the moniker of expert and to say, “Please let me carry you” is enough.
It is time to be involved. To make a stand for those who need help the most. Those who are lost, and those who have been belittled and demeaned.
And this I know. There is nothing better than the look on someone’s face when they hear these words, “You’re not alone now. I’m walking with you. We’ve got this.”

Prayer for our week…
Love One Another
Love one another, but make not a bond of love.
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup, but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread, but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone.
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together.
For the pillars of the temple stand apart.
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.
Khalil Gibran

Photo… “Hi Terry, This cardinal is my first morning visitor seen through my geranium and the coast of Maine morning fog. I loved your shared England pics.” Lee Dernehl (Littlejohn Island, Maine)… Thank you Lee.. and thank you for your photos, please send them to tdh@terryhershey.com