THOUGHTS OF A NUN

Inner Perspective

January, 2007

As many here know, I spent a number of years studying to become an archaeologist.  My field training was done at Corinth, and I had an excellent teacher, Charles Williams, the director of the American excavations there.  Charles used to say that the key to being an excellent field archaeologist was to be able to pay attention to the minutest details of what was going on in the trench, while at the same time keeping an eye on the overall lay of the land – the big picture.  Without the big picture, you can’t make sense of what is being uncovered in the small area you are digging right now; without taking careful notes of the details of what is discovered and where, your work will not really add to our knowledge of history, which is the aim, in the end.  Most students that he knew, he said, were good at one but missed the other.  Only the best could do both.

We all know about how it’s important, every so often in our lives, to back up, look at the big picture, and gain some perspective in order to get back on track.  It’s like a hiker, lost in the woods, who might climb to the top of a rocky, exposed outcropping to get a sense of which way she needs to turn to get home.

I’d like to consider two examples, though, that are a little more complex.  Years ago – about the time of New Skete’s founding – when the Apollo astronauts stood on the moon, they snapped a photo of the earth seeming to rise up over the lunar horizon.  The sight of it stunned and awed the world.   People gained a new perspective on the beauty of this earthly creation, and also on the fragility of the life it supports.  That gave birth to the environmental movement.  The first “Earth Day” was organized shortly after that, and we began to realize the need to change course…even if we haven’t done a very good job of implementing the course change.

Closer to home –both in space and in time: a brother dies, and we all, individually and as a community, take a step back, put things in perspective, and gain some new insights into the importance of our relationships with one another and – perhaps – some insights into how we need to change course ourselves to help strengthen those relationships.

But how hard it is to change our course!  The devil is in the details!  The hiker’s task is relatively easy.  Just walk in the right direction instead of the wrong one.  It might involve some bushwhacking, or crossing a stream or two, but it’s do-able.

Changing our relationship to the environment is far more difficult.  We’ve grown up with certain habits: having light whenever we want it; driving our cars wherever we want to go; buying fruits and vegetables flown in from South America when there is nothing in our local gardens; living in spacious homes kept toasty warm in winter and cool in summer.  It’s hard to give those things up.  And even if each of us in this church today can make those changes, how much difference will that make?  And if we don’t – if we just continue business as usual – who cares?  The people who will really suffer the worst consequences won’t be born for hundreds of years. We won’t have to look them in the eye.

Perhaps the hardest course change of all, though, is the last example – shifting our relationships with one another.  Letting a sister know that I really do love and care for her, even though living with her drives me crazy sometimes.  Listening to what a brother has to say, hearing him out, and considering his point of view, even though I know: “he’s wrong, of course”.  And perhaps even harder than shifting our own attitudes is to recognize when a brother or sister has shifted his or her attitude toward me.  To accept the apology; to respond lovingly to a gesture of reconciliation; if a single wrong is admitted, to refrain from the temptation to push further into the lists of all the wrongs that sister or brother has done to me.  To accept and treasure the love that is offered today.

Zacchaeus’ story is about the power of the love that is offered today.  It’s about how that love can turn the world upside down.  It is about seeing into the very moment of change, of metanoia.

Zacchaeus climbs the sycamore tree to gain some perspective – more specifically, to see who Jesus is.  Amazingly, the immediate effect is to give him perspective into who he – Zacchaeus – is.  He gains inner pespective.  And that changes his life.

It’s an epiphany for him, and in a funny, upside-down way, he is singled out by Jesus much as Jesus was singled out by God at his own baptism.  Jesus, at his baptism, is identified as the son of God, and beloved; so Zacchaeus is called on by name, a name which means “innocent” or “clean” – not at all how he is perceived by those around him – and clearly, he gets the message that he is beloved.  From that sense of beloved-ness comes his change of heart, his metanoia.  It is left for us to imagine what comes from that change.  But I can only think that it will ultimately change the heart of the rest of Jericho, as well.  That this change of personal fiscal policy on the part of the chief tax collector is going to change the attitudes of those around him.

The key to change in our lives, then – whether individually or communally – is not to make New Year’s resolutions: list of things we know we should do differently.  Most of us have done that before, and we know what happens.  By about this point in the year, three weeks or so into it, they are gone.  Rather, the key is to pause, to listen to God, to hear God telling us: “come down from your sycamore tree, for I need to be with you tonight”, and to hear in these words “You are my beloved child”.  With the inner perspective to see that message written on our hearts, the outward changes will follow, as a matter of course.  It comes from who we are; we cannot do differently.

Christ is in our midst