I went on a short cruise this past week on the West coast.
It was a shock to see snow on Saturday morning, as I awoke, groggily, form a
late flight that was, of course, delayed even more. Of course, we received no
explanation from the airline, no offer of recompense.
Prior to going to Mexico , a lot of people inquired
about the state of crime and violence there, as chaos has descended like a
storm cloud on the region. No issues occurred of which we were aware. This was
in stark contrast to the news form home that yet another school shooting had
occurred. One cannot take a vacation from the gun violence in our country.
Gun violence is a plague in this country. Events involving
just a few people, such as those hurt in a train derailment get extensive
coverage. It takes more for gun violence to get attention at all, as what the
president called carnage in his inaugural address continues unabated.
One encounters some of our worst traits on vacation. A
number of people stumbled about, concerned that their daily purchased drink
allotment may not be reached. “Vacation pounds” was a mantra heard more than
prayer blessing. So were pleas to the gods of fortune at the smoked-filled
casino area, and the dash to the ATM machine to replenish money lost at the
tables. The complaining among relatively economically secure people continues
to astound me: the best on this trip was a woman complaining that the pool on
the deck needed to be heated and enclosed as the breeze from the ship’s course
annoyed her.
On the other hand, family members or care givers d took
tender concern over their wheelchair bound charges and disabled children. I
love seeing the joy on a child’s face when seeing a towel animal placed about
common areas and getting to press the buttons for everyone on the elevator.
Sometimes, it feels as if God goes on vacation. We pray and
pray and sense neither presence, nor an answer to out heartfelt concerns. This
cruise line offers clergy the chance to register with them and respond to
needs, a request for worship, or bible study during trivia contests. No call
came. Mardi Gras went full steam ahead, shorn of its religious background, and
I noticed some people seeking a church in Mexico .
I imagine God shaking the divine head in grief at what we do
to each other. I imagine god beaming with pride when we encountered pods of
dolphin skirting the surface of crystal blue water, apparently for the sheer
joy of doing just that. I wonder if the divine heart still gets a thrill out of
seeing whale on their migratory journey, still heading both directions and breaching form the waters, again, perhaps out
of the sheer joy of having given birth in the Mexican waters. I wonder if God
too appreciates the care it took for creating the Wrigley
Gardens on Catalina
Island and maybe the golf carts that seem to be the transportation
mode of choice there. I wonder if God continues to take the ordained Sabbath
rest every week as well.
In my vision of God, I imagine the divine presence like a
magnet drawing us toward what we could be. I still wonder why that same
presence does not do more to flip the polarity and have evil repel us much more
than it does. I do imagine God constantly at work trying to draw good out of
wrong, with an eye toward a distant horizon of harmony and peace. I imagine God
lending a listening ear like a therapist but offering us guidance and hints of
discernment like a coach. After all, love does not take a vacation.
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