I AM who I AM, known by what has been and by the moments of here and now and by the dreams of what can be, may the multitude of I AMs we cry join together into a chorus of WE ARE; for once again our pronoun usage focuses more on the me in ourselves and threatens to unravel the careful stitching of our ancestors through time which brought us together intersecting our pasts, our presents and our futures. Amen.
The question, When will I see you again? becomes a doxology of sorts when the lighting of candles is added to each rise and fall of praise and of mourning. Assemblies gather before deadlines delayed again by postponed weather arrangements conveniently called out by experts in front of green screens. Story and science blur into one myth before the altar of truth in the long history of human beings once again having a difficult and dangerous time. People cheer the completion of first drafts with no sense for or need of resolution that might be recorded in the shining annals of the impromptu history of humankind.
Decisions to return as a gathering begin to open invitations to living never heard of before where givers of care finally extend a broken hand to the fallen enticing the simplest to be led astray from idols that cannot speak nor play.
Remember the play of civilization; how people treat each other waiting in a long, summer line for ice cream? Be careful in the way you lean; someone behind you may be making smiley faces at the little one you hold in your arms. Does this gathering come about from reading the message in the soda bottle or from seeing a fortune unfold from a cookie? The Help Wanted sign on a desert island reads, "New Liberator position available. No experience necessary. Vitality preferred." The questions, What should I want? and, What do I want? refuse to bend away from the one question they have become.
While crushing garlic, I said, "God is not our genie." She rinsed her hands. "Either choose to spend time or spread time across different spaces." Taken aback, I said, "That's the problem. Passages for people shorten perspective." "Now you're just making fun of me," she smiled. "Not true. I am simply prepping my strategy for finding the best seat." Taking up my challenge, and with ease, she said, "It doesn't have to take so long, you know, to tie us all together."
Maker of pines and pin oaks, burning bushes and the Joshua tree, evergreens and the piñon, who centers every tree in our Garden of Creations; gather roots around us, intertwine each with the other, so fruit of all flavors drops like jewels through grasping fingers into open hands. Amen.
God of the Infinite, "Variety is the spice of life" yet how often do we replace "we" with "me"? Make us anew so that I once more belong with others and, with others, belong to You. Amen.