Simply Grateful

You always hurt the one you love
The one you shouldn't hurt at all
You always take the sweetest rose
And crush it till the petals fall
You always break the kindest heart
With a hasty word you can't recall
So If I broke your heart last night
It’s because I love you most of all.
(pop standard by Allan Roberts and Doris Fisher, 1944)

In the Christian tradition, many give voice to an oft-unfulfilled commitment—that we must strive to be Christ-like in our relationships. A few years ago I was reminded of this—as if for the first time—in a sermon given in our very small and struggling Episcopal mission in conservative east Texas. His imperative struck me. “We must wear Christ on our face.” One other time since then have the words spoken from the pulpit become immediately branded in my conscious. “We have chosen to worship Christ, rather than to follow him.”

As a Christian, I am struggling with so much of what I’ve learned over these many decades, so much about exclusion and hollow presumption. As a Christian, I know I am not alone in this struggle. There was a time when I would have felt far more guilt for questioning the only faith tradition I’ve known. Maybe it’s age and where I am on my journey. No doubt—where I am physically and the expansiveness available to me in this place—is having its wonderful way with me. The best news of all for me right now is discovering that which binds us all, regardless of our walk—abiding in faith, or not. This feels good. I feel very alive and full of possibility.

My east Texas, foot-washing, primitive Baptist daddy wouldn’t cotton to—that’s a regional expression mostly associated with the south, meaning “to take to”—my developing pan-religious sensibilities. To him, I would be trucking with the Devil, and even though he wouldn’t understand me, he would still love me. Loving kindness was at the very core of this generous man. Isn’t that the message inherent in all the paths we walk?

In practical terms, I am reminding myself each day of the importance of treating others like I want to be treated. I don’t have a history of going out of my way to mistreat anyone—especially someone I don’t really know. We seem to reserve that kind of destructive nonsense for the people we claim to love. I like being reminded each time I stand in line at the grocery store, or walk into the utility company office to pay my bill, or talk once, twice removed to someone on the phone who has the power to make my life a little easier vis a vis my cable television or internet service that I have the power to make someone’s day by simply showing that I am grateful for their help. I’ve been hearing a lot about gratitude lately. Someone said that to be grateful opens our hearts. How good that feels. And so it is.

Simply Grateful—Santa Fe New Mexico (May 14, 2009)
R. Harold Hollis