Into The Light

Dawn doesn’t break in the Missouri woods.  It trickles in.  It hints.  It surprises.

Last year I revealed the secret of a private backpacking retreat I have taken every Good Friday for many years.  In that blog I posted my memories and expectations for that upcoming retreat on the Monday of Holy Week.  (Link to last year’s blog Into The Dark.)  This year, I am already a few weeks beyond my trek and write to you of my insight and experiences as we are in the midst of the Easter Season.

I spent Good Friday night in a hammock on the southern slope of a wooded Missouri hill.  My view faced east so you might imagine that I was awakened by the breaking sun as it exploded over the horizon.  That was not the case.  What I was awakened by were birds.  A beautiful, changing melody that began when the first songbirds caught a glimpse of the warming rays trickling in.  From their high perches they saw the light before I, and announced the impending dawn.

Actually, I was awakened around 2 AM from the sound of grunting and sniffing around my hammock.  The moon was full, which is a given when you camp around Easter, so it was brighter at that moment than it had been when I set up camp in the evening.  The animal stayed just behind me, out of view, so I can’t be certain what it was.  Based on the size and the sound, it was either a deer, or a bear.  My experience tells me it was a doe trying to figure out what I was and giving a warning.  Although unlikely, it would be a lot cooler if it was a bear.  For the purposes of this story, I’ll tell you I was almost eaten in the middle of the night by a bear.

Moving forward a few hours, I continued to listen to chorus after chorus of different birds.  They sang to each other, celebrated the coming warmth, and gave glory to God, each from their own abilities.  It was a noise you’d like to muzzle when heard outside your bedroom window, but here, it was a symphony.  The few, fluffy clouds above me began to shine bright white.  A hilltop situated between the valley in view in the distance to my right, began to turn from gray to full color on its Eastern face.  The tops of the trees above me and all around had their highest tips glow green, and the bright green trickled its way down to lower and lower branches.  Soon the sky was fully lit, the trees glowed colorful and alive to a point just slightly above me, and only the valleys stayed in shadow.  Last, I heard the turkeys.  From their lower roosts they gobbled a song that only a mother turkey could love.  But with absolute gusto and confident gobbles, they announced the coming sun.  The same sun that all around them had already known for the past hour.

Finally, after the day was already here, a few rays trickled through the trees over a nearby hill.  More and more rays fought through the branches, hinting at what was to come.  And then, even though every plant and animal…even the turkeys…knew what was coming, the circle of light still surprised in its fullness.

Jesus has arisen.  Our Savior has come.  Rejoice!

Many spend Lent in preparation.  Through prayer and fasting we internalize much of our work and focus on faithful improvements to ourselves.  The days following Easter are a celebration.  All should be invited to this Easter feast.

Blessings to all who joined the Church at Easter.  If you know someone who still hasn’t completed, or even started, their journey to God, don’t give up on them.  Most people do not experience an awakening of faith like that of St. Paul’s.  The spirit doesn’t often break like the dawn we see in movies.  For many of us, it trickled in.  It hinted.  And finally, it surprised.

Don’t give up on family and friends who may have turned away, or who may not even have started their journey.  Everything is in God’s time, but even if it feels like they are so far away, the time we’ve been awaiting can come and surprise.

Be a beacon for others.  You might not be a glowing treetop that all can see, but perhaps that is what you are called to be.  Many of us are simple glimpses of bright areas.  Even if we seem far in the distance, our simple acts of goodness may be seen by unknown others around us, who need something good to focus on beyond the valley of shadows.  Sometimes there are amazing things growing brighter all around us, but we are the last ones to see them.  Eventually, with God’s grace, the Truth will hit us.  Or Truth will hit the people we are praying for.  When it does, they will gobble in praise, and then the fullness of God’s love will burst forth and glow even brighter.  The hills and trees around will be awarded with the same warmth back at them, that they had been displaying already.  And the birds of the heavens will sing joyous praise for the one who was low, but is now in the light.

Even if you stumble around, grunting, noisily in the darkness, continue to do it with love.  With the gentleness of a doe, continue to pray for and act kindly to those around you.  You may be the only one keeping the bear at bay, who would come to devour a soul.

Happy Easter!

By: Matt Buehrig

Inspired by: Birds and Trees and Bears (and my wife who lets me escape into the woods)