2024-01-12 A Meditation on Nurturing Each Other

“7 Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and the late rains. 8 You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand. 9 Do not grumble against one another, brothers, so that you may not be judged; behold, the Judge is standing at the door. 10 As an example of suffering and patience, brothers, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. 11 Behold, we consider those blessed who remained steadfast. You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful. 12 But above all, my brothers, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or by any other oath, but let your “yes” be yes and your “no” be no, so that you may not fall under condemnation.” (James 5:7-12 ESV)

Everyone deserves the mutuality of tender upbringing and call-response. That is, time to live in our inexperienced yet yearning stages, not impinged upon nor hampered by such things as we are unfamiliar with. Art salutes art; echelon salutes echelon; the proud composure of the soldier at attention speaks no exasperated word nor impatient cutting notions, but rather to know the power of a word to hurt, is to know the power of a word to heal.

Out of a confluence of ideas and thought-stretches, comes a plain current, direction, washing over and cleansing, winnowing, smoothing out of the riverbed and its stones. The soldierly salute takes seriously the one panic-struck, the one easily coaxed by overly-cautious spirits, unto reality as a venus fly trap: we forgive one another the headlong flight unto new patterns of sin where before there lived meek composure, a likable honesty and simple demeanor. So, all are at the cutting edge of life choices, to protest loudly perhaps that such knowledge was gained illicitly, but too to stop mocking with loud voices and feigned amazement, others who only have a few things to their name, a modest resume, a lack of the sophisticated class backing, the elite schools, the shoulder-rubbing with other men and women, girls and boys, of means.

Yes, such rubrics are held high by many, who speak of an elite lad or lady because simply of their origins, their schooling, their family name, their fussiness around that evolutionary need to exclude and to meld, to hate and to merge. It is a salute of military proportions because we all of us have a fight in front of us, yet all of us do best by that fight if we accept it is the Lord who goes before us; that we simultaneously see a world at each other’s throats, and yet perhaps with a bit of thankfulness, accept peace and productive relationships. As though a thing of amazement. As a rite of passage that is, to know someone as having a social aspect to themselves, a bit loverly or friendly or compassionate simply for the human endeavor side by side. In all meekness and all modesty. In plain valuing of the persona Admitted, Qualified, Attested To.

Therefore when to love another person is to take a quieter route, a more humble or self-cautionary patient role, a thankless beguiling or submitting of ourselves to their innocence and to their gaps in experience; these things are possible for the soldier who has the savior complex, who has stopped longing for more by way of life experience themselves, and simply fights. Simply careens through the workweek as though on partial throttle, yet all-in and on full drive. The partial aspect is only that each of us has a Nirvana or Oasis of simple rest and reflection, where we let down our guard; where we see all of what conceits or proud composures, our brethren and sistren wander through. They are still loved, though tainted by not quite yet having had the barebones, all-hands-on-deck, urgency of life wandering the streets. Wondering if this person or that will stick us up. Group mind and better angels shown forth, yet from a self humbled, miraculously kept gracious and confrontational even with what is cliff-dwelling, existential leaping, razor’s edge hopefully calming words ready on our tongue. So the oasis and the Nirvana, and the reassertion of Good Qualities and Fond Parenting patting us on the back. Oh, so this is how my interlocutor, so gracious and encouraging, is facing their own situation squarely. No less militarized, yet in a different kind of driver’s seat. Each of us submissive unto such an extent that it becomes servant leadership. Each of us knowing the level on which we were once called fools: fools for not seeing a lifetime of work would make not a dent in the list of who are the “good families” and who the perennial third class ticket. Why work at all? Yet today, see the patient utility and appreciation of all who come to the table prepared, who have an offering, who relish the fellowship even as it is a startling phenomenon in a world at dagger’s edge and each other’s throats. Here we have made our home. Here, our temporary shelter. Here, our manic yet guided high state of alert, the quieter things on pause, the repose something a Good Spirit some day shall beckon us back to, on a simpler day, after a little calm love for the one inexperienced or feeling like competition is the sad reality rather than fellowship.