Put on, wear Love
A Nigerian woman, a physician at a teaching hospital in the United States, attended a Gordon MacDonald lecture. After, she approached Gordon, to offer kind words of affirmation. She introduced herself using an American name.
“If I may ask,” Gordon inquired, “what’s your African name?”
The woman pronounced her name, several syllables long, with a musical sound to it.
“And what does your name mean?” Gordon asked.
She answered, “It means ‘Child who takes the anger away.’”
When he inquired about its origin, she told him the story.
“My parents had been forbidden by their parents to marry. But they loved each other so much that they defied the family opinions and married anyway. For several years they were ostracized from both their families. Then my mother became pregnant with me. After my birth, and when the grandparents held me in their arms for the first time, the walls of hostility came down. I became the one who swept the anger away. And that’s the name my mother and father gave me.”
There are so many places (or triggers) in our world, where anger, resentment, bitterness, and distrust accumulate. And sadly, we ostracize even those close to us, without realizing what that does to our own identity.
And this I can tell you; I needed this story today.
There is so much in our world that “untethers” us. There is so much, that makes us “un-remember” this revitalizing truth: that which tethers you, is the fuel that spills authenticity, wholeheartedness, and empathy, and compassion, into the world around you.
Yes. It makes the difference.
Garrison Keillor once reflected on the church of his youth: “We had a surplus of scholars, and a deficit of peacemakers.”
I would argue, that is a ratio which needs to be reworked. Or maybe this story is more personal than that. Because the bottom line is that I would like to be known as a person who sweeps anger away. Being a reconciler sounds like a pretty good way to live.
Well, my friends, here’s the good news; every single one of us have been endowed and equipped, because every single one of us has been given the name, “peacemaker”.
Too good to be true? I can relate.
So, I settle for less. Because, “That can’t be me,” I tell myself.
As I said, I needed this story today.
Which begs the question; in this churning and uncertain environment, from where do we draw our identity, and our character?
This is from Paul’s Letter to the Colossians, “So; chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength and discipline. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.”
I like the paradigm shift. So, let us pause here.
We are not mandated to design, or create, or assemble, the wardrobe.
Only that we inhabit the wardrobe we’ve been given.
That we “live into” the name (wardrobe) we’ve been given.
What does it mean to live into, to embrace, to honor (which literally means, to “weigh heavy”), the name we’ve been given?
You see I was inculcated in a world that required willpower. To be whatever I should be, I needed to muster enough faith, or rectitude.
Which is fine, save for the fact that our identity or wellbeing is not dependent upon earning, or justifying. It’s about being true to who we are.
Which reminds me of one of my favorite images, from a magazine ad sponsored by the Humane Society, looking for homes for homeless pets. A photo of a puppy and kitten—looking up at you from the page—catches your eye and your heart. But it’s the affirmation on the top of the ad that sticks, “It’s who owns them that makes them important.”
Be true to who you are…
Yes… Child who takes the anger away.
Yes… Embrace this new life of love.
Yes… Dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you.
So. Here’s my question: What would happen if we lived as if these are true?
Can we hear that today?
I resonate with the Nigerian doctor’s story because I know about anger and its power. It can be like acid, corroding the heart and spirit. It’s not as if I even require an enemy. I lash out indiscriminately. It doesn’t mollify much, other than taking me away from my self.
Anger can find a home in the shape of sadness, or brokenness, or despair, or hopelessness, or loss of control. And we give in to anger because we are afraid, or we feel out of control. Because we live from fear, it’s no wonder we wish for control. We feel at the mercy of. So, our lives simply react to chaos.
Plato reminded us that, “What is honored will be cultivated.” I like the verb honor. It’s not about belief or cognitive assent.
How did the Nigerian Doctor honor the name her parents gave her?
She lived into it.
Yes, it begins here. It is about the choices we make.
And this I do know: When my identity is hijacked by distraction, I cannot honor.
When I am consumed by prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness, I cannot honor.
When I label or dismiss others, I cannot honor.
When anger consumes my energy and I overreact or wound, I cannot honor.
When I cannot honor, I lose sight of what is real, and authentic.
And yes, every one of us is afraid at times. Who knows all the reasons?
It’s just that when fear takes root, we revert to a zero-sum view of the world.
And fear makes us believe that resources—including compassion, mercy, kindness, forgiveness, and generosity—are finite.
We believe that life is short, and you get what you can. And if I don’t know you, you are my enemy… or at the very least, someone to be mistrusted.
This week, let us remember the wardrobe.
“Dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength and discipline. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.”
And the good news? You never know, how those garments (or bearings) will unlock mercy. And how, in small and gentle ways, they will allow us to spill gifts of peacemaking. And healing.
On Saturday, our regional library had their annual book sale. And let’s just say, “it was a full house”—spilling out onto tables on the sidewalks and walkways.
As a boy, I loved holding a book in my hands, devouring it. It anchored me. Took me to other lands, and eras, and in every case, invited me to look inside, to embrace the Terry I was bringing to the story, and the Terry I was recognizing in the story.
“Books can be windows into worlds previously unknown to the reader; they open like sliding glass doors to allow the reader inside. But books can also be mirrors. When books reflect back to us our own experiences, when scenes and sentences strike us as so true they are anchors mooring us to the text, it tells readers their lives and experiences are valued.” (Thank you, Rudine Sims Bishop)
And yes, we took home a couple of bags of books.
Enjoying reading one now, with a bowl of Blackberry Cobbler.
Quote for your week…
“I never believed that people come to my shows, to be told anything. But I do believe that they come to be reminded of things. To be reminded of who they are, at their most joyous, at their deepest, when life feels full. It’s a good place to get in touch with your heart and your spirit. To be amongst the crowd. And to be reminded of who we are and who we can be collectively. Music does those things pretty well sometimes, particularly these days, when some reminding of who we are and who we can be isn’t such a bad thing.” Bruce Springsteen
I am so very grateful that you are a part of Sabbath Moment. And grateful for the support that makes it possible. Please, pass Sabbath Moment on to friends. And invite them to join us. My email address tdh@terryhershey.com
BULLETIN BOARD
Today’s Photo Credit: Bev Klopfenstein just spent time on the Island of Iona (Scotland), for a retreat. While you are there, it is exquisite every way you choose to look. And on one of the days, Bev captured this rainbow… Thank you Bev… And thank you to all, I love your photos… please, keep sending them… send to tdh@terryhershey.com
POEMS AND PRAYERS
When dread
When dread for the world grows heavy,
or despair throws its rough sack over your head,
ponder something beautiful.
Let terrible events fade to the backdrop,
a dark peripheral blur.
Look for life, even the lowest.
The impetuous tuft of grass in the sidewalk,
and how it keeps coming back, reaching for light,
spreading its arms with innocent joy.
The bug in the corner of your prison cell,
how, by grace, it finds food.
If it is possible here, it is also elsewhere.
Even under the boots of tragedy, goodness persists,
in a billion places across the earth.
Keep your eye on the star, not the darkness.
In the room, mourners beat the laundry of their grief.
Outside the window a pair of cardinals feed each other.
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Music for the Soul…
New–
Let There Be Peace On Earth — Voices of Hope Children’s Choir
