Weathering Life's Storms
As I write this article, we have just passed the anniversary of 9/11 – a painful reminder to us all that life can change in the space of a heartbeat, and that what seems steady and permanent one moment can come toppling down the next, leaving us shaken and disoriented. It seems to be in human nature to take good things for granted, but we never realize that we are taking them for granted until the moment they are threatened or taken away.
My articles for this column are due a week before the publication date. Over the years, I have noticed that by the time I read the published article that I wrote the week before, life has often changed in some way. Sometimes the changes are small ones; sometimes they are drastic. Sometimes the ripples are felt only in my own personal life, other times they are changes that affect my community, my country or my planet.
Shortly before sitting down to write this piece, I took a little time to reflect on the Gospel reading for the day from Luke 6:20-26. In the beginning of the passage, Jesus speaks words of comfort and blessing:
"Blessed are you who are poor,
for the Kingdom of God is yours.
Blessed are you who are now hungry,
for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who are now weeping,
for you will laugh.”
But just a few lines further, Jesus’ words of comfort take a distressing turn:
“But woe to you who are filled now,
for you will be hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now,
for you will grieve and weep.”
This scripture passage and its movement from blessing to woe was particularly poignant for me. A few weeks ago, Father Phil Kreilein, our pastor at Resurrection Parish, was diagnosed with cancer. The news of his illness affected me on many levels. Mentally, I was stunned that the strong and energetic priest who had been at the helm of our parish for so many years had been stricken with a life- threatening disease. Emotionally, I felt a mixture of grief and anxiety as I thought about the uphill battle he faced and the painful days ahead. But in the midst of my mental and emotional chaos, my spirit was calm. I had worked side by side with Father Phil in times of blessing and in times of woe for many years. I had witnessed him use the words of Jesus to lead others through treacherous times, and I knew that his unshakeable faith would carry him through his own time of affliction.
In the Gospel from Luke quoted above, there are words of blessing and words of woe, but all the words are spoken by the same voice – the voice of Jesus. It is the voice of a love that never wavers, the voice of a peace that transcends the storms of life.
As Father Phil begins chemotherapy and the arduous path to recovery, I have witnessed our parish community banding together to pray for him, to care for him, and to work hard to fill in the gaps left by his absence. In this praying, caring and working, I see a love that never wavers and find a peace that transcends the storms of life.
As I finish this article, Hurricane Florence is hurtling toward the coast of the Carolinas. She has not made landfall yet, but there are predictions of widespread destruction. I know that by the time I read the published version of this article, the lives of many people will have changed. But I also know that many other people will pull together to pray for each other, to care for each other and to fill the gaps in lives that have been shattered by the storm. In this praying, caring and working, I will see a love that never wavers and find a peace that transcends the storms of life.
The love of Jesus is manifested in our love for each other, and although the voice of Jesus speaks to us constantly, we often hear it most clearly in the aftermath of a storm.
