Reforming the Spirits

When the Church settled on November 1^st as All Saints Day, the world settled on the eve of that sacred celebration as All Hallows’ Eve.  We know the day now as Halloween.  (Business journalists say that Halloween has become the second most profitable holiday for retailers  Christmas remains the at the top—Santa wins).

Why is Halloween so popular?  And why is this Night of the Spirits set on October 31^st?  Think about the word.  Halloween actually is Hallowe’en, a shortened version of the formal title from the older English name for the day:  All Hallows’ Eve.  “Hallow” is related to the word “holy.”  It’s the night before the ancient Christian feast of All Saints Day, which has been observed on November 1^st since the eighth-century tenure of Pope Gregory III.  One year, on November 1^st, he dedicated the Chapel of All Saints of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.  In early medieval Europe, regular Christian folk continued ancient traditions of ancestor worship and the thrill of contacting and confronting the spiritual world—especially the darker side.

In other words, before celebrating holy and heroic women and men with deep faith in Christ, we human beings ought to get out of the way the encounter with the evil spirits.  So many secular 21st century people have lost any notion of just how holy the saints are, and just how wicked the realm of evil is—and it is real.

We need to develop discernment.  Right now, as I write this blog, I overhear on the television in the next room one of the ghost-hunter programs.  The value of the program is that investigators like you and me can discern the existence of lost or trapped spirits. Thank heaven, these hunters have not met terrible evil nor suffered terrible harm or injury.  But they experience it.  As a Christian, I know that the real day, the better celebration, is the living witness of the saints.  I use this day to prepare my soul and spirit to encounter the hallowed ones of Christian history who inspire (breathe life into) my life today by their glorious witness and presence.

                                                                                  

Praying Through Hurricane Sandy

Last night, as I prepared to sleep, I reflected on the ferocity of Hurricane Sandy as it passed this region.  My wife and I sought to be prudent in preparation.  We laid in supplies of food and water.  We checked our batteries in the flashlights and made sure that our crank-up radio was charged up in case the power went out.  We filled sandbags, lugged them home, and placed them at all openings on the ground floor.  The wind began to howl, and the rain pelted our windows.  We prayed for the integrity of the seawall up the street, so that the tides would not overtake us and others as they had done before.  And we waited.

            Very little happened.  The tides stayed in the bay.  Flooding from rain water stayed on nearby streets.  Trees and their limbs stayed intact.  With but a brief interruption, the power stayed on.  Even the mail was delivered, proving the truth of the myth that, despite storm and night, the mail must come through.

            So many others further up the coast were not spared the wrath of the storm.  My heart and soul goes out to those who have lost so much.  Life is risky—most of the time, calculated risk, but acceptance and a wager that our choices about where and how we live will bring blessing rather than distress.  Some even are proud and dare the forces of nature to confront them.

            On that last point, as an aside, I wonder whether, when the Boardwalk is rebuilt in Atlantic City, Donald Trump will sneer at any storm and build the Trumpwalk….

            Every life in every day presents us with changes and chances.  How do I view this condition in my own life?  I confess that, whether I am prudent or proud, I cannot control my life or this world.  God alone can provide for me and preserve me no matter what.

In my bedtime reflection, as I said Compline, I turned to a prayer in which one confesses human limits and real humility.  "Be present, O merciful God," I prayed for Cindy and me and all others in struggle with the storm, "and protect us through the hours of this night, so that we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this life may rest in your eternal changelessness; through Jesus Christ our Lord."  To which we all must say, Amen.

Vacation as Teacher

Vacation.  I have been on one for the first time in a while.  The experience has been good and refreshing.  Now I sound like I’m repeating the ad slogan long ago for Coca-Cola.  I’ve had time to enjoy one or two of those along the way.

            Most people these days think of “vacation” as a necessary evil.  Many consider a vacation to be time-consuming, tiring and expensive.  After all, we have to “do something” in that time.  We’re not very good about disconnecting and relaxing.

            The word is misunderstood.  It comes from the Latin word vacare.  That’s where we pick up the term “vacant”—a vacant apartment ready to rent, which is empty and open, or a vacant stare, suggesting an empty mind in the other person.

            In this period, I’ve learned again what it is to have vacant time.  I don’t map out every moment of the day, nor do I have to answer each and every phone call.  It is empty time.  Reading and walking and being fill the moments.  A couple of days ago, I walked down the street with my dog to the seawall looking across the bay to watch a cruise ship pull out of the port.  Time passed as the ship turned around below the Norfolk skyline.  After the groaning of the ship’s horn to bid farewell, I then heard a young voice on the ship’s audio system as she cried, “WELCOME TO YOUR VA-CA-SHUN!”   And the people on deck cheered wildly.

            I cheered, too.  The Spirit of God can communicate in odd ways, through a cruise director on a ship heading off, or in the silence of these moments.  Empty can be a good thing—because God can fill me and feed me in my open time.