On any given day our minds are bombarded by a multitude of information. Some information we take in consciously and some we are vaguely aware of and still others we do not consciously recognize unless or until someone or something points it out to us.
A few evenings ago, after a cloudy and rainy day, there was a break in the clouds
to the west and I caught sight of an amazingly colorful sunset. We’ve all witnessed beautiful sunrises and sunsets, but do we really notice them? Do we interpret each one as unique? Do we marvel at the changing and deepening and fading of colors? Or does such a witness evoke an “Oh yea, just another sunset; happens every day” kind of response? A couple of days ago we awoke to snow on the ground – yes, snow. And this, after a few days of 70 degree weather! Again, what was our interpretation of this event of nature? A sigh of dismay (or disgust)? Or a prompt to ponder the ever changing and vacillating springtime weather in our area of the country?
Last night when I took the dogs outside before heading to bed, I heard the sound of the peeping frogs singing loudly in the back pond – more information for my brain. Hearing this “noise” could have evoked in me a feeling of being annoyed that the quietness of rural life is now invaded by the sound of these frogs, which will only continue to grow louder and louder as spring progresses and summer begins. OR, as in my case, I rejoice that those frogs still inhabit the pond, are a vital link in nature’s ecosystem and delight in the sound of their joyful music.
And then there’s a meal – in many ways so very ordinary but containing more sensory input. After all, we eat meals every day! We’ve prepared the food, set the table, seated ourselves with others (or alone), perhaps recited from memory a traditional meal prayer and commence to eat. Sometimes we converse with our dining companion(s); sometimes we simply watch the news while eating. In many ways it's just an ordinary meal like so many others. Hmmm…is it?/does it have to be?
Luke’s gospel this weekend begins with the end of the Emmaus story (24:36); the story of the two disciples having their eyes opened – becoming aware of the presence of the Sacred One (Jesus) among them, as they sat at table, in the breaking of the bread. I wonder…is it not possible for us, here and now, also to partake in and share a sacred meal in our own homes? Can we allow ourselves to be really, fully aware, in mind and heart, of the food before us as gift and blessing? When we gather in our homes (or in a restaurant) is it possible to open our hearts (alone or together if we’re dining with others) and not only see the food set before us, but also invite the Sacred Provider to sit at table and dwell with and within us as we partake? When we reach for that roll in the basket can not we also have our eyes and hearts opened as we break the bread (before buttering it) and remember the words of Jesus as he took the bread, blessed, broke and shared it? Wow! An ordinary meal CAN indeed become a sacred remembrance, a holy meal -blessed, broken, given, shared.
I believe the key in all of this information input I’ve written here is to notice – to REALLY notice what is around and with us and to feel in the depths of our hearts that all we encounter and have is pure gift. Perhaps consciously inviting our Sacred Creator and Provider into the equation of our experiences and lives will open our eyes and hearts to truly begin to see how we and all of creation is wonderfully, delightfully made.
Peace on the Journey.
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