John 14: 27
Perhaps fear is the opposite of hope. Fear shows us what we are afraid of losing. But fear also invites us to touch our vulnerability, our fear itself, and put these in God’s hands.
My daughter Ellen was a tiny person with disabilities. She lived her last twelve years joyously in a L’Arche community, and L’Arche held us both throughout her dying. It was about four weeks into her final stay at Toronto Western Hospital that we met again with her caring medical team, this time to discuss palliative care. It felt unreal.
After the meeting I took a walk through Kensington market. It was an early fall morning, and shop
keepers were just beginning to open up.
keepers were just beginning to open up.
I came across a young man sitting on the concrete in front of a little food shop, leaning against the wall, holding a baby bird cupped in his hands. I walked over to see and sat down. He said he’d found the bird on the ground where he’d slept last night. It must have fallen from a tree. It was quiet and still, and the boy tenderly stroked its feathers with a finger. We talked. He asked if I’d like to hold the little bird.
I held her as with a kiss. She was beautiful and she was dying. I was surprised by a welling of tenderness and hope.
Hope is about trust. We risk reaching out to others, letting ourselves touch and be touched. Hope is about turning from our small troubled selves toward Love and Mystery, knowing our need of God and each other. But most of all, hope is God’s gift.
– Barbara Sheppard
Gospels. The knot is a vivid, visual example of the Celtic peoples love for creation, and of their profound understanding of the inter-connectedness of the created order. These illuminations, as they are known, are made up of individual yet interwoven strands, forming a compelling image that speaks of both wholeness and interdependence. In the same way that a strong cord is made up of many strands so too is the fabric of our lives. Woven out of the many strands including faith, family, vocation, community, and gifts, they intersect in multiple ways, giving shape to who we are, beloved creations of God. These ancient designs are metaphors for our Christian journey. As the individual strands meander back and forth, they may follow paths we might not have expected. Some parts of the path may seem predictable, dull even, but we may also encounter some surprises. The blessing for us is that there are no dead-ends, for if we follow the path, it will always lead us back to the Source. During Advent, we’re invited to make an interior journey.