Sunday, August 19, 2018
Sunday Reflection: The end of summer
Because I have spent nearly all my life on the academic cycle, the start of September means the start of the year. Soon I will be surrounded by people I haven't met before, and my routine will change and a new rhythm of life will emerge. It's exciting, to have the start of the year mean such genuine change.
We are built, I think, to have a rhythm, a cycle of change. There are people I know who become restless with their jobs and their lives in a predictable pattern; we can all see it coming. It is like watching a train will itself off the tracks. That can be a good thing, of course, but it can also be disastrous.
Perhaps what a cycle of life-- be it a change of seasons or a new school year-- is give us just enough change that we don't blow everything up out of boredom.
The same is true, for many of us, with our faith lives. We don't walk away in frustration or go join a monastery; rather, there are seasons in our faith, a gentle of certain change in how we see the world. I know that my outlook now is very different than it was ten years ago, and that includes the way that I see God in the world. I have new skin, new bones--all the cells have been replaced-- yet I still have (mostly) the same shape. But not quite. You may not be able to see what is different, but I can feel it just as much as I can feel the joint in a finger in my left hand...
We are built, I think, to have a rhythm, a cycle of change. There are people I know who become restless with their jobs and their lives in a predictable pattern; we can all see it coming. It is like watching a train will itself off the tracks. That can be a good thing, of course, but it can also be disastrous.
Perhaps what a cycle of life-- be it a change of seasons or a new school year-- is give us just enough change that we don't blow everything up out of boredom.
The same is true, for many of us, with our faith lives. We don't walk away in frustration or go join a monastery; rather, there are seasons in our faith, a gentle of certain change in how we see the world. I know that my outlook now is very different than it was ten years ago, and that includes the way that I see God in the world. I have new skin, new bones--all the cells have been replaced-- yet I still have (mostly) the same shape. But not quite. You may not be able to see what is different, but I can feel it just as much as I can feel the joint in a finger in my left hand...
