|
The political chaos of the past few weeks continues, seeming to escalate daily, leaving us with a choice—to enter the chaos or walk away. This week, via trains, planes, and automobiles, I walked away.
It is performance season at my grandchildren’s schools in the Pacific Northwest. One granddaughter in the Seattle area sang and danced on Thursday evening, and another did the same in Portland on Friday night. I arrived by plane for the first performance and took the train to Portland for the second performance.
On Thursday I visited my daughter-in-law's preschool class and led the children through a simplified Examen. As they held their little hands over their hearts, they thought about who and what they loved and what sometimes bothered them. Fifteen faces looked so serious as they thought and then spoke. They recited the Angel of God prayer as only small children can do, and I drove away, understanding better what Jesus meant about becoming like little children.
The train trip from Washington to Portland Friday morning went through gray, wet, and cold farmland, yet the steady movement of the train made it peaceful. The houses along the train route looked cozy and warm, a million miles from the chaos of the daily news.
The second performance of my trip was similar to the first, with students singing, dancing, and exuding energy and joy. Parents, grandparents, and family friends came with floral bouquets for their favorite actors. At each performance, you could feel their pride.
To cap off the trip, I attended a Gonzaga University dinner for accepted students in the Portland area with my oldest granddaughter. I felt right at home as the speaker talked about contemplatives in action and people with and for others. He emphasized that the diversity, equity, and inclusion program was alive and well and that the university intended to keep it that way. I looked around at the students and their parents and felt a sense of hope.
In today's second reading, Paul reminds us that “our citizenship is in heaven.” This is not meant to advocate renouncing civil citizenship but to remind us of our priorities. The Christian life calls us to live according to the Kingdom of God, which sometimes contrasts with what civil society suggests. This can be confusing and uncomfortable, but Paul urges us to “stand fast with the Lord.”
Standing fast with God can mean many things. It always means nurturing our prayer lives and holding on to the belief that all things are possible with God. It means following the laws of the land. It can also mean organizing to bring change to unjust systems or marching in protest when human rights are in peril. Sometimes, it is as simple as not laughing at the joke being told at the expense of the dignity of others. The guide for “standing fast with the Lord” is throughout the New Testament.
We will continue to experience government pronouncements and sometimes troublesome actions; it’s part of society. But we do not have to immerse ourselves in them. We can find the intersection of being a citizen of the world while aspiring to be a citizen of heaven.
My few days among grandchildren were days without social media and news. They were full of laughter and the innocence and hope children offer. Every once in a while, it is good to walk away. The chaos will still be there, but your spirit will not feel the burden.
Peace,
Anne
| 
