Rearview Driving

Lately, I’ve been driving my spiritual life through my review mirrors.  I’m driving reckless, out of control (as if I ever was in control).  I check for blind spots, assess situations often, determine progress.  Ironically, I am hoping, expecting to hit something!  I’m anticipating a collision.  Over recent weeks, I’ve encountered several elements; my parents with failing health, teen assailants, drug dealers, oncologists, car-jackers, my beloved daughter preparing to leave for college.  I feel as if all are particles in a giant accelerator set to collide.  And what’s going to fly out?  I’m not entirely sure.  Funny thing is, I’ve seen this before, well not exactly, but some derivative there-of.  I’ve discovered God’s subtlety weaves throughout the exiting debris!

            Recent elements I’ve seen flying out of my life’s collisions; sea turtles, ALS martyrs (saints), opportunities, mended relationships, healing, derelict dads determined to change, girls who want guns off their neighborhood streets, young men becoming drug-free, gratitude, springtime.  These fragments may not necessarily be of essence to the reader, but they are for me.  Paradoxically, often to move forward in faith, I must look backward to find meaning and discover the Holy Spirit at work.   As I look forward, I take guidance and direction from the past.  This is probably why my concept of God working in time is relative, but the concept of history and future we share in common.  

            Many moons ago, as a first-year theologian, I was required to complete an autobiography class where I read others’ biographies while recording and reflecting upon my own.  I reviewed collisions or “events” as physicists refer to them.  Yes, significant events occurred in my life and what came flying out God patiently (I impatiently) allowed me to discern.  I sucked at reflection, but reflection is a function of practice.  I wrote or took long walks to search my relationships and interconnections.  During many instances while struggles were occurring, I thought I was alone.  I determined later, I was not.  What amazes me most is God’s ability to build goodness out of adverse conditions or poor decisions.  Youth are generally looking forward, because they have little history or experience from which to draw.  As a teacher/coach, I’ve found that the experiences with which God’s blessed me have been beneficial in assisting youth through rough patches.  Sometimes, others, my wife, friends can see more clearly God at work in my past especially when I’m too close to pull events into focus.  To understand God in my relationships in the past is to find guidance and direction in relationships with God in my family, friends, colleagues, and others in the future. 

            I’ve grown to appreciate All Saints and especially All Souls as their memorials usher in the holiday season.  I have become more aware of Christ’s work in the lives of those I’ve known who have passed from this life; in their fears, losses, challenges, triumphs, shortcomings, and joys. 

Following the recent death of a friend, Mark, my path collided with another rearview driver, Marc Freedman.  I conclude with Marc sharing his thoughts upon tragedy in the past and what the future may offer.

“As the people in Pittsburgh begin to bury their loved ones massacred inside the Tree of Life synagogue on Saturday, my thoughts turn to my own father’s funeral last year and a passage from the Talmud (the source from which the code of Jewish law is derived) read that day.  It’s the story of a rabbi passing through a field, noticing an old man planting an acorn.

            “Why are you planting that acorn?” the rabbi asks, in what I imagine is a scoffing tone.  “You surely do not expect to live long enough to see it grow into an oak tree.”

            To which the old man—turning slowly from the ground to fix his gaze on the not-so-wise clergyman—says, “My ancestors planted seeds so that I might enjoy the shade and the fruit trees. I do likewise for those who come after me.”

            It sounded so familiar to me.  For years, I’d been quoting a Greek proverb that reads, “Society grows great when older people plant trees under whose shade they shall never sit.”

            Planting, tending, bequeathing to the next generation—it’s the essential human project, one we’ve long understood yet let slip over the past half century.  It is our role as older people to plant to see trees under whose shade we shall never sit.  Our task is not to try to be young, but to be there for those who actually are. 

            Given the new demographics and longevity, embracing this role is the only way we can survive as a society.  Those killed in Pittsburgh surely knew this.  The elders, pillars in the congregation for decades, had gathered with younger families to celebrate the birth of a baby.  And now 11 of them are gone.

            We are the elders who remain.  To honor all those who are gone, killed because of fear and hate, let us remember and embrace our role as gardeners and teachers, mentors and peacemakers, tenders of souls.

            Our gratitude for all that was planted before us, let us resolve to do right by future generations, leave the world better than we found it, and begin to do so now.

With love, Marc Freedman”

            Thanksgiving is around the corner.  I encourage a little driving from your review mirror.  Grace goes before you.  It is the difference between driving with mirrors or driving blind.  In quality time with family, friends, and you, my brothers and sisters, I share my blessings and give thanks!