For the past two and half years, I have been a full time student. And for three years before that, I was working full time and a part time student. Consequently, Saturdays (and often Sundays) have been either homework days or days that I do something else but feel like I should be doing homework. Rarely was I able to just be on a Saturday.
Sun shining over the Congregation Offices
The past two Saturdays, however, have been just that, an opportunity to be and settle into my new reality. There is lots of work to be done of course, and sometimes that will involved weekends. But rest and leisure and relaxation and renewal are also crucial to avoiding burnout. Hence, I’m really reconnecting with and enjoying the possibilities of a Saturday.
This morning I went on a long walk in the woods. I passed by Shalom Center where we have our Congregation Offices, but did not go inside. Instead I kept on walking, into the nearby park and onto the wooded trail towards the GW Bridge. It was cold and brisk but oh so lovely. A great way to start a simple Saturday.
About ten years ago I began a personal Christmas tradition of taking a long solitary walk on Christmas Eve morning. That first walk was very special and played a key role in my discernment to become a Sister of St. Joseph of Peace. Not every Christmas Eve morning walk has been quite so profound since, but each one has held its own special blessings.
Last year, for example, I went for a walk in the forest on fresh new snow! (You can watch the video prayer I made from pictures taken on that walk.) It was spectacular to celebrate the incarnation in the midst of God’s wondrous creation.
Christmas Eve morning walk – 2013
This year I went for a soggy walk in the rain in my Chicago neighborhood.
Christmas Eve morning walk – 2014
I found myself praying with the Gospel reading from this morning (Luke 1: 67-79) which is actually the Canticle of Zechariah which the church prays daily as part of morning prayer. As hinted at by the title of this post, my footsteps especially echoed the last lines:
In the tender compassion of our God the dawn from on high shall break upon us to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace.
I walked through this tunnel, as I often do, on my way to the lake. This morning as I approached the tunnel, I saw two gentleman having a conversation. One was holding a black garbage back and pointing to the litter in the park. He handed the trash bag to the other man, told him there were plastic gloves inside, and that this was as good a place as any to start. I was intrigued, but I kept going on my walk to the lake.
On my way out of the tunnel heading home, I spotted the one man who had been given the trash bag and gloves. Sure enough, he was wandering through the park, in the rain, spotting trash and putting it in the bag. I found myself thinking, “What a lovely gift for Christmas, cleaning up the park.” As I rounded the corner to cross the street, the man was within speaking distance. I wished him a Merry Christmas and asked what he was up to. It turns out, he’s down on his luck and trying to raise some money to go visit his son for Christmas. The other man was paying him to clean up the little patch of park. Again …. in the rain. Given that I had been praying for the tender compassion of God to break upon us, I of course gave him a little contribution myself.
How wonderful to celebrate the gift of the incarnation in the midst of God’s wondrous creation.
As I turn off the computer and get ready to head off to spend this day with my own father, I hold this man and his family especially in my prayers.
And I pray for all of us, that we may indeed welcome the prince of peace by stepping onto the path of peace. In our hearts. In our families. In our cities. In our world.
Today’s first reading starts with what is perhaps the best line ever. .. “O stupid Galatians.” Followed by a whole lot of, “Don’t you get it?” (Galatians 3:1-5).
Well, no, we don’t really get it, or sometimes it seems. I spent this morning reading and praying with the news of the day. War. Inaction in the face of economic disparity and rampant disease. With a dash of fascination with polite protestors.
Then, if I am honest, I have to ask myself, do I get it? Or should the scripture read, “O stupid Susan”? Sometime my friends, sometimes.
After praying with the news over my cup of tea, I decided to go for a walk to the new-to-me Japanese garden I discovered last week before heading to the library.
I found myself in the company of graceful geese, swimming in the water … and then … taking flight!
And that it seems is the call. Clear as the call of the geese over head, honking. I remember reading years ago that one image of the Holy Spirit from Celtic spirituality is the honking goose. I usually think of that as the Spirit annoying me into action!
But this morning, I understood it in a different way. The geese I saw this morning, gently swimming in the pond, knew when it was time to take flight, to be about their purpose. The Spirit is not about staying still in safe calm waters. It is about movement and taking flight.
So is the world a mess? Yes. Can we fix it? Not alone. But maybe, just maybe, inspired and nourished by the love of God we can move forward together, take flight, and see what happens.
I have lived in Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood for over two years now. And yet, somehow, I never managed to discover the hidden gem of the Osaka Garden in Jackson Park until today!
Normally when I go for a walk, I walk to Lake Michigan. Today was a bit cooler, overcast, with a drizzle or two, so I decided to go walk among the trees in Jackson Park. That, my friends, is when I discovered this:
Osaka garden at Jackson Park
It’s not the biggest Japanese style garden in the world. It is certainly much smaller than the Portland or Seattle Japanese gardens, and not quite as technically classical in style (from my limited knowledge as a former member of the Portland gardens). Neverthless, it is a gem. Lovely, peaceful, and historic, given that the first Japanese garden was established in the park when it was the sight of the 1893 World’s Fair!
And it’s free to visit. So, after my discovery, I stayed for a while to meditate. After all, in my opinion that is the best thing to do in a Japanese garden. After a while, I got up to leave, and guess who I saw?
Look under the bridge
Do you see my feathered friend? Here is a closer shot:
The perfect spot! And photo!
Amazing, huh? If I had asked my feathered friend to pose for a photo, it could not have been better. Wow.
All in all, it was a beautiful, prayerful morning walk. And guess what? It’s less than a mile from my house. Has been the whole time I’ve lived here, but now I know!
Museum of Science & Industry in the background, with my neighborhood behind that.
Who knows what you might discover in your neighborhood?
At the Corner of Susan and St. Joseph 