CHERRY TOMATOES


By Anne Higgins

Suddenly it is August again, so hot,

breathless heat.

I sit on the ground

in the garden of Carmel,

picking ripe cherry tomatoes

and eating them.

They are so ripe that the skin is split,

so warm and sweet

from the attentions of the sun,

the juice bursts in my mouth,

an ecstatic taste,

and I feel that I am in the mouth of summer,

sloshing in the saliva of August.

Hummingbirds halo me there,

in the great green silence,

and my own bursting heart

splits me with life.



Who could say anything to surpass Anne Higgins’ luscious poem? Read it again. Carry it around with you. Experience the split skin, the ecstatic taste-- warm and sweet. Are you sitting on the ground and letting the juice burst in your mouth? After all, it is August; (we’re not yet in one of those formidable months spelled with an“r” ). Have you noticed a hummingbird or two as well in the great green silence? And is your own heart bursting? Cherry tomatoes can do that for one.

All are Created Equal

Recently I listened to an interview that Krista Tippett, host of Minnesota Public Radio's "On Being," did with Jacob Needleman, the philosopher and author of "The American Soul: The Inward Work of Democracy." His ideas have particular resonance this week, when our nation celebrates its historic invitation to self-actualization and freedom. That resonance becomes even more powerful in the face of the many questions and complications - not to mention confusion and divisive partisanship - with which our country is so riddled right now.
Jacob Needleman passionately presents some of the great and fallible human beings who forged this country we love - men and women who demanded of themselves high ideals, which they in turn expressed in our Declaration of Independence, Constitution, and Bill of Rights. Among these people, he highlighted: George Washington, for being a man who "turned away from power" - no easy task in our competitive and power-hungry world; Jefferson, who knew the invaluable importance of "listening well," particularly if there were to be agreement among the Declaration signers; Lincoln, "humbled by power" even as he firmly exhorted "malice toward none, and charity toward all"; and from the 19^th Century, Frederick Douglas, an escaped slave who deeply loved the America he felt compelled to criticize for allowing slavery to exist. Call what these men stood for what you will-- ideals or virtues-- but we need to reflect on them today, as we struggle to maintain our democracy. Let it not be thought that anyone, least of all Jacob Needleman, would deny Americans the fireworks, festivals, marches, and parades we so love to employ in our Fourth of July celebrations; but Needleman feels our patriotism must go deeper than all that.
Astutely, I think, he asserts that our age needs not just external action groups, but "think groups" that could help us ask such hard questions as: "What are the duties implied by our rights as very blessed Americans? What is the inward work of democracy? What does the Declaration of Independence imply when it says, "All are created equal," and, "All have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness"?
Dear God, we pray for this our nation and world. We ask that You help us remove the walls that separate us. Now, in this moment, we ask for new light; illumine our minds, so that we may seek truth, harbor no malice, and live in charity toward all. Use us, dear Lord, as part of your plan for the world's healing. May we no longer be at war with each other, or with ourselves. May every nation and every people, every color and every religion, find at last the one heartbeat we share. Continue to create and sustain this country, dear God, for us and for our children. Hallelujah at the thought! Praise God, that such a thing could come to be, through You, through us, and through Your light that shines within us! So may it be. So may it be. We thank You, Lord. AMEN.

The "Dead Church"

Two weeks ago, we celebrated the feast of Pentecost! It’s one of my favorite feasts but it is also a disturbing one!


Scripture gives us the wonderful story of the first coming of the Holy Spirit upon Mary and the Apostles by referencing many images of surprise, change, movement, energy, fire, empowerment, understanding of foreign languages. And, today, if we consult Scripture scholars and spiritual directors, they will tell us that the same-- the exact same-- changes, surprises, energy and empowerment are meant also for us, gifts from the same Spirit, to fit our needs, in our specific place and time! That’s the disturbing part of the Pentecost liturgy and truth! But also the most promising part of Pentecost! So, you may ask, how can it be both disturbing and promising? Where’s the missing link?
Recently I received the following e-mail message entitled “Dead Church.” There are times, aren’t there, when we feel we are dead members of a dying church? Let me share this email with you! It seems a new Pastor in a small Oklahoma town spent the first four days making personal visits to each of the members, inviting them to come to his first services. The following Sabbath, the church was all but empty. Accordingly, the pastor placed a notice in the local newspapers, stating that, because the church was dead, it was everyone’s duty to give it a decent Christian burial. The funeral would be held the following Sabbath afternoon, the notice said.

Morbidly curious, a large crowd turned out for the ‘funeral.’ In front of the pulpit, they saw a closed coffin, smothered in flowers. After the Pastor delivered the eulogy, he opened the coffin and invited his congregation to come forward and pay their final respects to their dead church.

Filled with curiosity as to what would represent the corpse of a ‘dead church,’ all the people eagerly lined up to look in the coffin. Each ‘mourner’ peeked into the coffin, then quickly turned away with a guilty, sheepish look.

In the coffin, tilted at the correct angle, was a large mirror.

Am I the missing link? And perhaps you too?

Rush Upon Us, O Spirit

In a very short time, we will be celebrating the soul-shaking, global-shaking feast of Pentecost. St. Luke says that the Spirit came down upon Mary and the disciples with power to open the gates of life to all nations! Peoples of every language and culture could now become proclaimers of the message, “Jesus is Lord”, in their own tongue and with their own expressions of joy and faith! St. Paul teaches the early Church by using my favorite image of the Body of Christ: “As a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit.”


Now, obviously, not all of us are shaken to the depths of our beings, nor is our world so shaken by the coming of the Holy Spirit. For that reason, I have been praying the following Spirit Psalm which may appeal to you as well. It is inspired by the image of the Spirit rushing upon David when he was anointed King (1 Samuel 16: 13) and it can fit any time or clime:

Rush upon us, O Spirit of God!

From this time on, rush upon us

like living water,

like leaping fire,

like fresh breath through an open window.

For this time, rush upon us, O Holy Spirit,

with wisdom and knowledge,

with understanding and counsel,

with wonder and recognition and awe.

Just in time, rush upon us, O Spirit of God,

in life-giving words,

in songs from the voiceless,

in passion for witness.

At this time, rush upon us, O Holy Spirit;

this hopeful time,

this searching time,

this preparing time,

this coming and going time,

this trusting time,

this new time,

this full time.

All the time,

Rush upon us, O Spirit of God!

AMEN! ALLELUIA!

THE EMPTY EGG

Jeremy was born with a twisted body and a slow mind. At the age of 12 he was still in second grade, seemingly unable to learn. His teacher, Doris Miller, often became exasperated with him. He would squirm in his seat, drool, and make grunting noises. At other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his brain. Most of the time, however, Jeremy just irritated his teacher.

One day she called his parents and asked them to come in for a consultation. As the Forresters entered the empty classroom, Doris said to them, "Jeremy really belongs in a special school. It isn't fair to him to be with younger children who don't have learning problems. Why, there’s a five-year age gap between him and the other students."

Mrs. Forrester cried softly into a tissue while her husband spoke. "Miss Miller," he said, "there is no school of that kind nearby. It would be a terrible shock for Jeremy if we had to take him out of this school. We know he really likes it here."

Doris sat for a long time after they had left, staring at the snow outside the window. Its coldness seemed to seep into her soul. She wanted to sympathize with the Forresters. After all, their only child had a terminal illness. But it wasn't fair to keep him in her class. She had 18 other youngsters to teach, and Jeremy was a distraction. Furthermore, he would never learn to read and write. Why waste any more time trying?

As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her. Here I am complaining when my problems are nothing compared to that poor family, she thought. Lord, please help me to be more patient with Jeremy.

From that day on, she tried hard to ignore Jeremy's noises and his blank stares. Then one day, he limped to her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him. “I love you, Miss Miller," he exclaimed, loudly enough for the whole class to hear.

The other students snickered, and Doris's face turned red. She stammered, "Wh-why, that's very nice, Jeremy. N-now please take your seat."

Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. Doris told them the story of Jesus and then, to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg. "Now," she said to them, "I want you to take this home and bring it back tomorrow with something inside that shows new life. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Miller," the children responded enthusiastically--all except for Jeremy. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving her face. He did not even make his usual noises. Had he under-stood what she had said about Jesus' death and resurrection? Did he understand the assignment? Perhaps she should call his parents and explain the project to them.

That evening, Doris' kitchen sink stopped up. She called the landlord and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it. After that, she still had to shop for groceries, iron a blouse, and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day. She completely forgot about phoning Jeremy's parents.

The next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller's desk. After they completed their math lesson, it was time to open the eggs.

In the first egg, Doris found a flower. "Oh yes, a flower is certainly a sign of new life," she said. "When plants peek through the ground, we know that spring is here."

A small girl in the first row waved her arm. "That's my egg, Miss Miller," she called out.

The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked very real. Doris held it up. "We all know that a caterpillar changes and grows into a beautiful butterfly. Yes, that's new life, too."

Little Judy smiled proudly and said, "Miss Miller, that one is mine."

Next, Doris found a rock with moss on it. She explained that moss, too, showed life. Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom. "My daddy helped me," he beamed.

Then Doris opened the fourth egg. She gasped. The egg was empty. Surely it must be Jeremy's she thought, and of course, he did not understand her instructions. If only she had not forgotten to phone his parents. Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside and reached for another. Suddenly, Jeremy spoke up. "Miss Miller, aren't you going to talk about my egg?"

Flustered, Doris replied, "But Jeremy, your egg is empty." Jeremy looked into her eyes and said softly, "Yes, but Jesus' tomb was empty, too."

Time stopped. When she could speak again, Doris asked him, "Do you know why the tomb was empty?"
"Oh, yes," Jeremy said, "Jesus was killed and put in there. Then His Father raised Him up."

The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the school yard, Doris cried. The cold inside her melted completely away. Three months later, Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the mortuary were surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket, all of them empty.

Catch the fire of enthusiasm

I read a line yesterday that stays with me! Maybe it touched my winter doldrums or a Lenten day that had not yet experienced Easter risings! But I know I need to take this idea beyond mere insight into action:

"Catch on fire with enthusiasm and people will come from afar to watch you burn."

Recently I was trying to help our secristan light a candle that just would not receive the flame held over it. I took the candle out of the holder to bring it to eye level. . . and what we saw was a piece of wire extending beyond that part of the wick that could easily be set aflame! Immediately we by-passed the wire and the wick caught fire. I went back to my pew and watched that candle burn brightly! Of course, I thought of the quote: "Catch the fire of enthusiasm and people will come from afar to watch you burn."

We, too, burn and die a bit, change and move a bit-- day by day-- when fanned by the Spirit. Enthusiastic, joy-filled action attracts; it may challenge; it surely gives off light. Nothing wrong about that, is there? And does the enthusiasm minimize the dying even as it simultaneously lights up the eyes, warms the fire of love in one's words, gives a lilt to one's voice or joy to one's relationships? No, I don't think so. I would come from afar, too, to see this life and light in you!

On Historians and Cosmologists

It takes a long, long time to think, breathe and act out of the truth that my very being and that of every other creature in the universe share the same energy!



It is not as if the earth was somehow assembled and then I was added to it. No! Rather, I/we came out of the universe in that initial eruption of molten rock from which developed, over millions of years, a universe that gradually awakened into all that surrounds us at this moment and which, day by day, continues to diversify into new forms of life.


But today, there are imminent threats to this magnificent world of ours: it is again in danger of mass destruction – not unlike the one that an asteroid destroyed over 65 million years ago when the dinosaur community ceased to exist (except in the minds and hearts of children who are able to relate to this land creature.)

We need to ask ourselves how and why we have fallen under a spell that seeks to darken that which is light, destroy that which gives life, crush our absolutely necessary connection with the land, vegetation, rainforests, air, aquatic as well as land animals and human beings of every color! Our universe wants to continue and is capable of continuing if you and I tell its magnificent history and find our unique place within its story.


Yes, I’ve been listening to cultural historian Thomas Berry and cosmologist Brian Swimme. I am both exhilarated and worried! You may wish to Google their names and become more aware of why climate change is the concern of our world.