|
* * *
In early this year, January, a severe winter storm kept me inside for days, and I got out to snowshoe for the first time in my life. I was enthused to be outside, and the experience felt like being a child again. Here, at age 58, learning how to hike in snowshoes. And, though it was 1 degrees and minus 14 degrees windchill, the Sun was shining lovely on the snow and path. Not being used to being out in that extent of coldness, I could feel some hesitancy, and I thought of turning back early on the hike. Rather, I slowly moved on, hesitant as I practiced this new skill, somewhat like when I first learned to bicycle. Suddenly, I stopped and looked out over the river basin, dressed in white. I felt that tender feeling, that inexplicable sensation one feels just before crying for joy. I bowed head and gave myself to this grace of tearful celebration.
Reflecting later, the thought of tenderness arose. And I could not fathom any one reason for this outpouring of sense and tears. I could point to several possible reasons, yet cause was not important to me. What was important was that gift of a tender time, about 30 seconds I see as one of the most blissful times of my life.
* * *
This freshness, youthfulness, even greenness, soft and delicate, appearing to many to be weak and vulnerable, seems related to the wisdom Jesus spoke to his followers, disciples not fathoming the humble power of the wise, and worried so as to their place of coming authority in their version of what his 'kingdom' would look like. He informs them the spiritual realm is much unlike the aggressive dominance of the 'world' systems.
At that time the disciples came to Jesus, asking, “Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven?”
So Jesus called a child to come and stand in front of them, and said, “I assure you that unless you change [or, turn in another direction, do a turn-about] and become like children, you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven. The greatest in the Kingdom of heaven is the one who humbles himself and becomes like this child. And whoever welcomes in my name one such child as this, welcomes me."
*Gospel of Matthew 18.1-5 (GNT)
* * *
The day following the hike, I went to my local bank. I brought up to the tellers, whom I was on friendly terms with, what happened, which fit in the context of our sharing. In the sharing I looked to their faces to see their response. How would they reply to a grown man speaking of crying like this? Would they consider it odd? A sign of childishness? Emotionalism? Sentimentalism? They did not appear to know how to respond. I said, smiling, "I do not cry from sadness, I cry from joy." This epilogue, I noted by the change in expressions, helped them understand, their faces showed a resolving of confusion or dismay, or both.
Indeed, likely, most of us, if not all, have had such experiences and often in situations we could say 'touched my heart'~love-making, viewing a work of art, the birth of a child, the death of a loved one, listening to a favorite song, reading a poem, walking in nature, recollecting good memories from the past, being honored for a major life accomplishment, ... The contexts for the arising of tenderness is many, tenderness is one.
Continued... |
