Category Archives: Biblical Reflection

Fighting Fair

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Love is not irritable or resentful

I Cor 13:5

     The fiercest fights are over the smallest things. Raised voices, sharp words, cold looks, sarcastic tone – over mayo vs. miracle whip, seat up or seat down, presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas morn. Fighting wouldn’t be so bad if we did it the right way: hashing out the issue rather than pointing out the flaws of the person on the other side. Not fighting would be even better if we didn’t hold onto the irritation and resentment. There are few things that cause an internal cacophony like unspoken resentment: every good and kind word is drowned out. Few things can create relational static like irritation; loving gestures and happy smiles can’t be seen for the snow. Facing conflict isn’t easy, but it’s inevitable when two or more imperfect people come together. So how do we quiet this life noise, letting go of resentment and irritation, making room to love and be loved?

Find the courage to admit something’s not right.

Fight Fair: the point of a fight isn’t to win, but to create a reality where love flourishes.

This is what my parents taught me about fighting:

If it’s something small, not worth a fight, then let it go – no bringing it up at a later date.

If it’s something that cannot be let go of, face the conflict. Remember, once words are said, they cannot be unsaid – speak to correct the situation, not punish another.

I can’t say I always follow these rules of engagement, but I try. It’s amazing how much quieter it is in my heart, mind, and soul when I do.

Mileage

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“I wasn’t planning on going that far.”

I’d asked a friend of mine to alter our plans, moving our morning coffee from the Starbuck’s in Newtown to my home in New Hope – a four mile, twelve minute difference. My husband needed our car and I was at home, so it was a change of venue or a cancellation. She changed her plans from coffee with me to Starbuck’s time alone.

When the expected fell through, she chose the option most like her original plan. Coffee at Starbuck’s: same time, place, menu, mileage. Coffee at my home: extra time, different place, limited menu, extra miles.

I had another way of looking at it. Coffee at my home: same friend, same conversation. Coffee at Starbucks: no friend, no conversation.

We went on to have many cups of coffee and many conversations in the following years – in Newtown, New Hope, Princeton, Atlanta, and Toronto. She cared enough for me to stay in touch, and I cared enough to do the same. I can’t speak for her, but for me it was well worth the time and distance.

Love does not insist on its own way.

I Cor. 13:5 NRSV

For more information on this series, see Quieting Life Noise under “About.”

Tending

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Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude

I Cor. 13:4-5

I learned how to tend bar at twenty, mixing drinks at Dockside in Alton Bay when the owners weren’t around to do it. Most people ordered the typical: martini, sombrero, something-and-soda. It wasn’t until I worked at Cranberries in Dover that the drinks got complicated. Fortunately, the bartender who continued my training was a kind man and skilled teacher.

“If you don’t know how to make a drink, ask me. If I’m not here, ask the customer who ordered it. No one knows everything. Only a bad bartender is afraid to learn from others.”

I think the same is true about life in general, bad meaning insecure or unsure rather than a moral deficiency. Not knowing something isn’t shameful, it’s an opportunity to learn. Needing to acquire a particular skill isn’t a failure, just an inevitable part of being human. A willingness to ask questions, to learn from the wisdom and mistakes of others, and to be open to the complexity of the world are honorable qualities that enhance life. Learning and teaching, giving and receiving, are acts of love.

Envy and boasting, arrogance and rude behavior are the burden of the fearful. Feeling inadequate, they romanticize the lives of others (envy); feeling small, they make a shield from inflated accomplishments (boasting); feeling worthless, they project their inadequacy on others (arrogance); feeling insubstantial, they chip away at others by word and deed (rudeness). Giving and receiving love is what’s most needed and what’s constantly rejected. If perfect love casts out fear, fear throws love away with both hands.

Tending bar or living life, offer what you have and ask for help when you need it. God knows, no one is perfect and everyone is loved. Cheers.

Love is Kind

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Love is patient, love is kind; one follows the other. Love that is patient chooses a world governed by compassion and care rather than convenience or expedience. Love that is kind honors the dignity of others, not because it’s the “right” response but because it’s the only response. Everything else is a refusal to respond, or a serious misunderstanding of the nature of self, life, and the universe. The kind look at others and see God. If they happen to be wise, they see God and others in the mirror as well…

Love is Kind

I Cor. 13:4

Love is Patient

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Love is Patient

I Cor. 13:4, NRSV

 “Love is patient, but you’re not.” Carl Geores said these words to me and my husband, Dave. It’s the line I’ve never forgotten from the sermon he gave at our wedding. It crosses my mind quite often, almost twenty years after the white dress and tuxedo, champagne toast and cake event. Mostly because it’s true.

Patience isn’t so much a virtue or ability as it is a way of living in the world. It’s more to do with putting things in perspective than putting up with delay. Patience is knowing and appreciating the fact that the cosmos doesn’t run on my schedule; in other words, it’s knowing and accepting that I’m not the center of the universe – Thank God!

Patience is enjoying the interaction with others in this wonderful world. Patience is rejoicing over the personal plans that didn’t come to fruition – and knowing that something better did. It’s the still, small voice nudging me onto a better path, granting me a blessed life. It’s a lot quieter than noisy ambition or blaring insecurity, but it’s steady and strong enough to overcome both.

Today, patience comes in cat form, asking me to take a break from laundry and writing. Today, patience sits in my lap and purrs – happy I chose giving and receiving love over getting my blog piece written fifteen minutes earlier…

 

For more on this Quieting Life Noise series, see “About.”

Love: Beginning Thoughts

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If I give away all my possessions,

and if I hand over my body so that I may boast,

but do not have love, 

I gain nothing.

(I Corinthians 13:3, NRSV)

What is this love that Paul is writing about? He’ll list its characteristics in the nine verses following this one – something to go through adjective by adjective. But here are a couple of thoughts for starters:

Love is meaning good things for another and sacrificing to bring those things into reality; it’s not an emotion (like and love are not the same) but a choice to act willingly for the good of another. It’s why loving neighbor and enemy is possible, even when liking them is not.

Love recognizes that people are not means to other ends – this includes ourselves. Jesus said that the scriptures boiled down to two commandments: 1) Love God, and 2) Love Neighbor as Self. Loving our neighbor is recognizing and honoring the sanctity of his or her life. Without this love, we may reduce our neighbor to a tool that helps us or a hindrance that frustrates us. Loving ourself is recognizing and taking responsibility for the sanctity of our own life. Without this love, sacrifice for others reduces us to mere tools for the benefit of others and we gain nothing.

 

Why would some choose not to love neighbor? Fear of sacrifice: not having enough left for self, losing equality with another.

Why would some choose not to love self? Fear of integrity: having more than enough for self and neighbor – claiming equality with another.

Deeper than consciousness is the longing to give love and a willingness to give it sacrificially. (James Loder, The Transforming Moment, Colorado Springs: Helmers & Howard, 1989, p.177)

 

Peace Like a River

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My father walks along the Cocheco river. My sons and I go with him today. The river is in his back yard, literally. Open the gate, walk down the slope, and there it is: the leafy green edge of New Hampshire, with Maine on the opposite bank. It’s cool and shady here, with fish in the water and a frog on a rock. The busy street that edges the front yard is worlds away, as are the tasks and cares of the day.

My father works hard to keep the river’s edge a peaceful retreat. He mows and trims. He plants trees to replace those lost in floods and storms. He keeps the upstream neighbor’s riverbank clear, too – a gift of his time and effort to someone I’ve never met. Only the downstream neighbor’s tangled, overgrown, impassable yard indicates the care necessary to keep this an open, restful place.

Like river, like life. Maintaining peace in our own backyards requires work and time away from the front yard that the world sees. It doesn’t increase the size of the house, the worth of the car, or the status of the neighborhood, all this work – it just opens us up to the life flowing behind it all, invisible to many and underrated by most. This kind of work is done for love. Love of God, love of neighbor, love for children and grandchildren. Love for the natural world. And love of self, too, in the best of all possible worlds. A place of peace created in love, a gift my father shares with me and my sons.

Paul knew all about the noise and busy streets, the front yards and the tangled mess that makes it impossible to see the river flowing around and behind it all. It’s why he wrote about love (I Corinthians 13), and it’s why his words are worth sharing. They are a glimpse of the work it takes to create a peaceful place – and an invitation to enter that green, leafy space. Blessed are the peaceful place makers.

Noisy Life

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My neighbor had some tree limbs removed this morning. Family Tree Service did a fantastic job – branches came down with little fuss and no damage to people, plants, or property. When all the cut branches were gathered in the driveway, the chipper pulled up. For the next forty-five minutes, I heard nothing but the grinding of limbs into mulch. I ran the vacuum and couldn’t hear it; I moved boxes and my portable dishwasher without the usual creaks and rolls. My tea kettle at a boil couldn’t be heard. My two cats headed for the room farthest from the noise – they are wise about such things. When all the branches were gone, blessed quiet returned. Bird song, the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the gurgle of water filtering in the fish tank all returned. Not silence, but a sufficient and interesting quiet.

It’s not just wood chippers that bring unconquerable noise; schedules crowded beyond reason, cut-throat competitive practices at work or home, inordinate preoccupation with material or career success – all these things can unite to push life to decibels capable of drowning out the sufficient and interesting quiet required to hear God and neighbor. Granted, it’s usually noise I’ve created out of societal expectations, personal doubt, and selfishness. The big question: how do I turn down the volume of life noise?

August will be about just that – turning down the volume that drowns out peace and quiet. Scripture, prayer, faith practices, and trust can help turn the knob. I’ll start with I Corinthians 13…

Gibbs Avenue

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Walking up Marion road, past the library sign and town offices, I turn right onto Gibbs Avenue. The side entry into Shaw’s is the first drive, followed by the driveways of many houses on both sides of the street. I walk past Highland Avenue on the right  and Bodfish Street on the left; High Street merges in farther down, followed by Park Avenue. Gibbs ends with a stop sign: First Congregational Church on the left, Memorial Park to the right, Main Street ahead. Gibbs is a favorite for walkers and drivers alike; I rarely walk its length without passing someone on the sidewalk, heading the other way.

There is a Cape Cod house on Gibbs that was empty when I moved to town. Its white paint had all but worn away, visible only around door sills and window frames. Queen Anne’s Lace and orange Day Lilies had taken over the whole yard and the once shell covered driveway had reverted to sand. Three years ago, the whole place was renovated – new windows, new siding, new residents. It’s a lovely old place and Gibbs is the better for its presence and restoration. I love the house, but I love its story even more…

There was a man from a wealthy family. He fell deeply in love with a woman. For whatever reason, his family didn’t approve of her. Then came the threat: leave her or lose your inheritance. He chose his love. They bought that Cape on Gibbs, making a marriage and a life together until her death. He remained until his death a disinherited outcast.

I don’t know any details of the couple who lived in this now renovated Cape on Gibbs Avenue. Love stories are remembered for their passion and sacrifices, not the daily acts and choices that mark a marriage. The Love Or Money ultimatum, when true love conquers all, is supposed to be followed by Happily Ever After – details just get in the way.

I love the story, but I wish the years had preserved more than the romance of it. The choice wasn’t really love or money, after all – it was the love that creates a new family or the love and benefits of parents, grandparents, and siblings – wings or roots. Love lost one way or the other.

Perhaps the man’s parents thought he would choose them. Foolish people to forget this holy truth:

Set me as a seal upon your heart,

as a seal upon your arm;

for love is strong as death,

passion fierce as the grave.

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

a raging flame.

Many waters cannot quench love,

neither can floods drown it.

(Song of Solomon 8:6-7, NRSV)

Question: What are the legends and fables that haunt the streets of your town?

Highland Court

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A few hundred feet past the light and down Marion road is a blue and white library sign. Taking the sidewalk to the back parking lot, crossing the spaces and climbing the stone stairs, I reach Highland Court. It’s small, with four driveways and two houses that look onto its asphalt. There are many more chickens and garden beds here than people – farmland in downtown Wareham. Cars must enter and exit from Highland Avenue because it ends at the chain link fence at the top of the stairs – passable on foot and a dead end behind the wheel. It’s a peaceful lane leading to a quiet destination of books and dreaming for cyclers, strollers, and walkers.

Years back, Highland Court was the access road to the elementary school – a place of learning and playing, noisy and busy. Buses and cars drove through an entry now blocked by the fence. When the school burned down, elementary education moved out of town center and the library moved in. Now and back then, it’s mostly children who take this pavement and staircase; once a way to elementary school, now a shortcut to the library. After a good snow, it’s a tiny sliding hill for small children.

I’m here frequently. It’s an integral part of my walking route, leads to the houses of dear friends, and delivers me to the library. Like my life path, it began in elementary learning and no longer concerns itself with the complexity that can dominate life between childhood and grey haired maturity. Fostering green spaces and birds, domestic and wild, is a treasured activity, and it leads to a place of beautiful words and images. When I walk the earth here, I see my life: simple and short, with a beginning and an end. There’s a staircase that takes me beyond it. The way is narrow and I can’t enter weighed down with cars or camels, or troubled by many things. But that’s to be expected – it’s how Jesus sent his disciples into the world. Holy adventures start with empty hands, simple faith, and the willingness to be part of God’s amazing story.

 But there are also many other things that Jesus did; if every one of them were written down, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. (John 21:25, NRSV)

 Question: If we are Christ in this world, then we continue the story. What adventures are found in your life’s chapter?