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Monday, July 29, 2013

The beauty of your life and mine(revisited)

A while ago I had a lovely visit with two friends from l'Arche. I always enjoy these visits because there is lots to share and lots of news to learn. We each have a special association with the l'Arche community in Greater Vancouver and so, getting together is a wonderful occasion for remembering the people we have lived with and loved.

L'Arche is there as a community which includes at its core, men and women who seem to be intellectually challenged in some way and who live with others who come to assist them. When we have these reminiscing sessions it is always the core people we talk about because, I believe, it is usually they more than the others, who have touched our lives and helped transform them. When I think of this I am startled to think that these are people whom we as a society have often written off (and that is not too strong a phrase).

I wanted to write about this because it occurs to me more and more that many of us from time to time question ourselves and what we do or don't do, by saying something like, 'what is the point of my doing this or that, I am only one person and nobody will care. What I do won't make any difference'. And yet, as I thought about the conversations I have had with my friends about our companions in l'Arche it occurred to me that this is never true.

One of the people we were talking about was our friend Geraldine. This woman was, yes, in some sense intellectually less agile than some but you could only admire her sense of herself: she knew what she wanted (or didn't - and this was always clear) and she had an amazing capacity to sit, to observe, to supervise and sometimes, to choose to do as little as possible. This is not a criticism because you recognized an art form when you saw it. Geraldine had managed to live quite a long life by choosing a way of getting the most with the least effort. That in some ways is a gift many people long for. She had a wonderful sense of humor, a beautifully unique laugh and she touched each life around her by her almost majestic presence there on the couch. She was one of the most interesting people I have ever known.

Someone else I always remember with love is Iris. Iris was very different from Geraldine. She was quite able in many ways and perhaps if her parents had not been told she was 'retarded' she would have married and lived a relatively normal life. In any case, she struggled lovingly, to be all that she could be. She was kind and considerate. But one of the things I remember most about her was something she taught me. Iris had come to spend some time with us in order to see if she would like to move to l'Arche, and so towards the end of her stay I said, 'Iris, have you made any decision about whether you would like to come and live here?'. She looked at me sadly and said, 'Well, I don't know. No one has ever taught me how to make a decision. I have never had to make one before.' Wow! That was an education for me. But it was also a glimpse into the heart of someone who was rich in humanity and who had suffered because no one had had faith in what she could learn to do.

My point in sharing this very tiny bit about these two wonderful women is that they profoundly affected me. Their presence and friendship enriched my life. Two (but of course there were many other unique, very special individuals as well but this is not a book) individual women whom society had judged to be 'handicapped' 'retarded' were two of the most interesting and human people I have ever known. Each one was a gift. Each one made a contribution to the world around them. They might have said 'what is the point of my living, what is the point of my trying, I am someone of no account'. But life proved differently. They touched not only my life, but many others as well. And all of us who were changed by knowing them have somehow passed that gift on to others. And so it spreads.

 
Here is a whole community of beautiful 'ones'...L'Arche Vancouver, 2009

I guess what I am trying to say here is that hardly any of us are what the world calls 'big players'. But what we are, every one of us, is beautifully unique and precious individuals who touch the lives of many people in a lifetime and so, one does matter because it is like the ripples in the water- our little life touches another who touches another and on it goes. So wouldn't it be wonderful to see that as an incentive to be the best and most loving people we can be.




Sunday, July 21, 2013

The pull of horizons

For some years I made a little money for the monastery by taking photos for greeting cards. I was told that there were certain ways to focus in, so that the eye was drawn into the centre of a flower or toward a horizon. The view of the Weybourne cliffs that was in the last post for instance, has a path with a tiny figure walking almost, into the future. It also has the horizon of the north sea. Though it isn't a particularly great photo I find it touches that part of me that seeks? longs? searches?

In Elizabeth Johnson's wonderful book ' Quest for the Living God' * that I have mentioned before, she has a chapter on the theology of the great 20th century thinker, Karl Rahner. In his early years Rahner thought that one of the great gifts of human beings was our curiosity. We are always asking questions, seeking answers and in many cases we find we never get to the end. Johnson sums up Rahner's thinking at this point 'While analyzing, weighing, judging and defining concrete objects in the world, our reasoning power keeps on slipping beyond standard definitions to seek new horizons. The number of questions we can ask is limitless'. Human experience is always oriented to the 'more'.

Which brings us to God. In this context Rahner refers to God as the 'whither' of our seeking. It is a rather old word in English but I hope we find it meaningful. Johnson goes on, " We will never reach the end of exploring, having figured it all out. It is something like parallel train tracks that appear to meet at a point in the distance, but when you get to that point the tracks have opened up to another distant point. It is something like the horizon one sees when flying in a airplane; no matter how fast the jet goes it never catches the horizon which remains still farther beyond the window. It is something like being in love and finding your beloved endlessly interesting and beautiful. There is always more'.

This made me think too of a lifetime. When we are young we set goals. We are going to be here by 30 and have done this by 40 and so on. Yet somehow it seems to me we never quite get there. There is always that 'something more'. Certainly, in our search for, our life with, God we never do come to the end. There is always the beauty and joy of the horizon never reached definitively, never grasped. I find that wonderful. How boring God would be, life would be if we ever actually stopped longing and seeking and asking questions.

*Elizabeth A. Johnson: Quest for the Living God',Continuum, New York, 2007


Friday, July 5, 2013

Vacation time....




Langham, Norfolk, UK
It is vacation time and so, this blog will be on holiday for a few weeks. Next Post will, I hope, be July 22... In the meantime, keep some lovely images in mind. Most of the photos in the blog have been taken by me over the years and I love to share them. I hope they make you think of beauty and therefore, of God.
Weybourne cliffs, UK
Ashbridges Bay Toronto