When I was a kid my mom and I would look forward to May 1st. Near our home there was an abandoned piece of property that was full of daffodils every spring. Mom would drive us over and we'd pick them together, and form them into small bouquets. Then the fun began. We would drive to the homes of the church women who meant so much to both of us. We would park far away, walk up, place the flowers on the doorstep, ring the bell, and run! The best part was when the door opened and our beloveds would look around and pick up the flowers and smile.
I've been thinking about those women a lot lately as I ponder my own life and my role in the world and church. Most of those women who received the bouquets have finished this life, leaving wonderful memories in the lives of so many people. They gave so selflessly of their time, talents, and even money, that their legacy is one that will live on for a long time. I miss them. At the same time I wish I could figure out how to gather up all the women who have been such sources of encouragement and strength in my adult life. Many of you reading this are probably a part of that group. Imagine what could happen if all of us were together sitting around the fire-pit with a beer (or a glass of ginger ale). I imagine laughter that would wake the neighbors. Trusting relationships are such a gift, even when most of us do not see one another very often.
I imagine that in many neighborhoods these days dinging someone's doorbell and running could be pretty dangerous. In fact, how comfortable are we when someone rings our doorbell these days? It doesn't happen very often where I live. The other thing that doesn't happen all too often are those little random acts of kindness, like leaving someone a little gift, encouraging someone anonymously, or just assisting someone on the spur of the moment.
Our Student Food Pantry had an excess of macaroni and cheese as the school year drew to a close so we decided we would hand it out in the University Center. It was kind of funny how suspicious students were of taking something free. What were the strings attached to this box of mac n cheese? What were they signing up for? Was it expired? Were we crazy?
Suspicious. The world is suspicious these days. We look at one another through eyes of suspicion before we learn one another's stories. We assume that those who look different, act different, or dress different, must be bad or less, or weird. I wonder what our distrust causes us to miss. Have we missed out on opportunities to surprise one another with kindness? Have we hurried away from strangers at the expense of God-given opportunities for relationship and connection? Do we unintentionally avoid the unknown because we are so busy, so focused, or so afraid?
We are heading into Pentecost and the story from Acts 2 of when the Holy Spirit comes down like flaming tongues, resting on the heads of those who gathered. The people were speaking in their native tongues when all of a sudden they could understand one another. The suspicious in the crowd began to wonder if these people were drunk, but it was early. They were sure a bunch of celebrating, loud, odd, people. They spoke of this as what had been predicted by Jesus, the very one who had been crucified and raised from the dead. Of course they were suspicious! Of course they thought this gathered crowd was filled with a bunch of nutcases. Their suspicion may have left them with this understanding unless they got to know the people that were there that day, heard their stories, and shared in their awe and joy of fulfilled promises and faith.
It's a challenge to trust people these days. I think we are called to think the best about others until they prove otherwise. Rather than entering into situations with eyes of suspicion, think of what we might encounter if we listened first, looked for ways to be kind, shared our hearts! We may just realize that we are all much more alike than we are different. We might see through the eyes and hearts of the "other" with whom we are certain we could never agree. The hard and fast positions we take for and against might soften and even change as we embrace the persons behind the stereotype.
I'm thankful that my mom taught me to share joy with others those May days in my past. I believe the joy I saw on those faces is universal and that in some small way God has called us to share in those moments with each other...even if it is done anonymously.
How is our suspicion preventing us from living into the Kingdom of God?
I'm choosing trust today, I hope you might too.
Happy May Day!
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