I started an essay, forthcoming, on War On Drug’s song “Eyes to the Wind.” My faith is weary, not of Christ, but by fellow Christians. I’m a bit rundown here at the moment. At every turn, many fellow Christians have made a fight out of being kind to each other by masking and social distancing or of taking care of beat up fellow citizens who are BIPOC or LGBTQ.
I don’t why some Christians aren’t masking.
I don’t know why some Christians have attacked critical race theory and have a beef with wanting to care for Black lives.
I don’t understand the fear that drives some Christians to carry weapons (especially to church) but not masks. Or what makes them pledge a de facto allegiance to state capitalism while decrying socialist economics (both of these economic systems co-exist somewhere with democracy). I am flummoxed that their fear of being persecuted leads them to persecute.
I’m either falling into healthy spiritual silence or I am numb-frozen as to how to speak the truth in love. I think I’m in a state that fluctuates back and forth between the two. The former looks like the following:
A few years back, during college, my daughter had the words of Bishop Kallistos of Xelon inked on her. “Do not resent. Do not react. Keep inner stillness.”
Seems a good word to always keep before your eyes.
Speaking of ink and what to keep before your eyes.
Before the lockdown, I had the words of St. Anthony put on my left shoulder.
Always keep your eyes on God. My right shoulder has the Theotokos and Christ with “Still she persisted.”
Owner of wORKINGaRTs
This year I’ve been reading the works of Francois Fenelon. As I struggle with other Christians’ practices, I came across this:
“I am very sorry for the imperfections you find in human beings, but you must learn to expect but little from them; this is the only security against disappointment. We must receive from them what they are able to give us, as from trees the fruits that they yield. God bears with imperfect beings even when they resist His goodness. We ought to imitate this merciful patience and endurance. It is only imperfection that complains of what is imperfect. The more perfect we are, the more gentle and quiet we become toward the defects of others.”
Francois Fenelon
These are my spiritual thumb presses, think rock climbing.
Be still and know
that I am God. My peace
I leave with you. Not as the world gives…
___________
On a funnier note, I keep thinking of the line in Princess Bride when Westley says, “Everyone will be wearing them (masks) in the future. They’re so terribly comfortable.” Actually, masks are my beard right now. So warm. Also, a nice place to hide my RBF from strangers.
Maria Reynolds Weir 