Lebt: Shone

It was nine o'clock when Maou suggested we go to the beach. The tropical sun had set hours earlier, taking with it its burning heat. In its place the gentle moon had risen and a cooling breeze cme from cross the water, crooked her finger enticingly and added her soft pleas to Matou;'s. It didn't take much effort for her to me, nor for Matou. I'd fallen in love with Haiti and its beaches nearly 30 years earlier, and the chance to dip my toes in Agwe's cool waters is one I can never ignore. We were there with a local pastor who lived in New Jersey and who was interested in starting an orphanage in Archaie, He was hoping we would partner with him in this new venture. We had spent s couple hours earlier that evening in the main room of his sister‘s house, singing loudly in Haitian Kreyol and talking theology with him and members of his sister‘s congregation. Thomas was harder to convince. Accustomed as he was to the lights of New Jersey, Thomas fretted concerned that it was too dark. With no electricity, there were no street lamps. He needn't have worried. The moon was out and the stars glittered in the night sky like a million tiny candles. They walked us all the way there, and back.

Lent: Open

Some of the happiest people I know are the ones who are open to new ideas, new people, new experiences, other viewpoints and even the possibility that they are wrong. Every moment to them is a chance to learn, to discover, and to grow as a human being. And isn't that close to the heart of God? The book of Revelation describes the pearly gates as always open, and it hardly can be said that God is closed off. He embraced the experience of being human, with all its weaknesses and disappointments; welcomes everyone who comes to him, no matter where we are from or what we have done; and even lets us convince him to change his mind.

Lent: Harvesr

We still have eight weeks to go until last frost in this state. We're just getting started planting cold weather crops like lettuce and peas. Fruit won't even grow on the trees until July. No matter the crop, harvest is months away. Except duffferent crops ripen at different times, and some bitter harvests are coming in from the field even now. The war in Iran is one crop, like the brutality in Minnesota, reaped from the seeds we planted months and years ago, to elect someone unqualified for office, someone with violent appetites, unfamiliar with peace and prone to cruelty when his whims go unmet. . Every moment of our lives, we sow the seeds of the future. Every moment we harvest the fruit of the seeds we sowed in the past, or that others sowed before us. Sometimes the seed fails, and other times it's a bumper crop we'll be eating for years to come.

Lent: Spring

Down by the foot of our driveway is a maple tree growing on a small strip of grass between the sidewalk and the road, on an easement the city owns that runs through our front yard. The tree is about 15 feet high, with a canopy that spreads over our flower bed, our driveway and the neighbor's, and a piece of the road big enough to park a car under during the summer. Part of this spread is because, about 6 feet from the ground, the tree trunk forks into three co-dominant stems, and each segment grows about 120 degrees from each of its sisters. Or they used to. About 15 years ago, Hurricane Irene blew through the area, canceling flights, flooding low-lying areas and generally being a hurricane. A week after the storm had passed, the old girl dropped one of her three stems, kerplunk, right onto the road. The city (eventually) came and carted the fallen branch away, and in the nine years since, the tree has continued to grow new leaves every spring, stretch its arms out a little wider and stand a little taller ... as the wound where the missing limb grew becomes a little worse, and more and more of the lesser branches on the surviving stems wither and die under the strain. We think of spring as a time of new beginnings and renewal, but that's a hollow promise to some. It must be awful when you don't know you're already dead.

Lent: Deep

The river is deep. We try to cross, but the water is cold and rises quickly. While our feet sink and stick in the mud, the water rises and chills our legs and our chest. Soon it will be over our heads. The wound is deep. We press our hands against it, but the blood keeps flowing. If edics cannot stop the bleeding, the patient is going to die. Thoughts are deep. As we ponder the twists and turns, time passes unheeded, first an afternoon, now a weekend, then a childhood. Grief is deep, like a river. There is no one to tears while he waits for his daughter to return. Loneliness is deep. The community has been torn away., And with a sense of belonging. Love is deeper. It offers a way past the river., out of grief and through the loneliness-to what’s on the other side

Lebt: Celebrate

Lent often is associated with foregoing pleasures and some manner of fast -- no meat on Fridays, if you're Catholic; and none on Wednesdays either, if you're a traditional Catholic -- but Sunday is always a day for celebration. Our lives are rounded out with celebrations, and we mark those celebrations with the food that we eat. We enter the world to celebration. We drink our mothers' milk while our families feed on meals provided by supportive friends. Each year we celebrate our lives with cake and choice foods. We round out our holidays and holy days with the foods that have been selected by our elders. Bitter herbs, corn on the cob and roast turkey. And when the time comes for us to leave, our loved ones gather around to celebrate our lives with one last feast in our honor. The life we are given is good, and we celebrate it together with good food, in good abundance. The Hebrew Bible is filled with feasts of Trumpets, tabernacles, first grains and more. The Kingdom of God is a celebration with food, music and dancing, not a joyless and spartan affair. Fill your plate and raise your glass. Celebrate!

Advent: Live

 Such a curious word.  So versatile.

An adjective, as in a live show, filmed before a studio audience.

A verb, we live. Life is a smorgasbord with so much to learn, so much to do, so many people to meet, so many books to read.

An imperative: Live. The Wheel of Fortune is always in spin, and better days may yet come.