Tree stumps and dandelions

hope and persistence are how God works through us

There’s a set of wind chimes on my porch that I’ve had for probably close to twenty years now. When the triangle shaped ‘clapper’ became disconnected from the worn center string and fell to the ground, it was a couple of days before I missed the sound of the bells and repaired the chimes with a new double knot.

This past fall, we pulled out the bushes that were deeply rooted in front of our porch. They had been there at least since we bought the house thirty years before. This is the first spring that I sit here in my mother’s rocking chair with all of the new space and light pouring in. Where my porch had been somewhat shadier and private, now it’s simpler, clear and revealing. It’s a good shift.

There’s a tree stump across the street from where I sit, and all around its wide expanse is growing a big crop of yellow dandelions. They’re happily singing the story of life that comes from death.

This is the way of life. Things shift and they change. There’s brokenness that sometimes gets repaired over time, there are things we need to pull out by the root, and there’s new life that comes from death. Winter turns to spring turns to summer turns to fall and all over again. This is the way it’s always been.

The loss of Pope Francis this week is a profound and heartbreaking loss for the Church and the world and also for me. Time after time, Pope Francis reminded us of who we are, who Jesus is, and of our responsibility to each other. When the Church veered toward the evil of earthly power and clericalism, he called it out. When we forgot our compassion, he raised our eyes and hearts. Like Jesus, Francis saw and remembered the poor, the migrant, the imprisoned, the cast out, and the powerless and he told us all that we were seen, known and loved by a merciful God.

Totus. Totus. Totus.

As so many leaders across every sector continually choose self and wealth, power and hate, Francis has pointed us to the mercy, grace, openness and kindness of Jesus. I felt a measure of ease knowing he was representing the heart of Jesus in a broken world that desperately needs Him.

Our world is dimmer today without Francis. My world is dimmer.

In God’s Providence, just three days after the loss of Pope Francis, we had tickets to hear another spiritual hero of mine speak at our favorite parish in the city, St. Cecilia’s of Boston. Fr. Greg Boyle is the founder and director of Homeboy Industries, the world’s largest gang intervention and rehabilitation center, and he is the author of books that have changed the way I think about God and mercy. His humble way of love is a light post for true Christian discipleship, and I was excited to hear his words especially at this time. What I did not know is that the panel would include a range of inspirational ministry leaders and authors, among them another hero of mine, Fr. Richard Rohr. I can’t put into words what it was like to be in that room with these exceptionally humble and true people of God, except for the reality that God’s Spirit is still moving, still coming up out of the ground as new blossoms and trees and leaves and that somehow God is still feeding all of this work in us, day by day, even amidst deep challenge.

The call to love one another is simple and hard and it’s ongoing. Sometimes we’ll need to repair the chimes so that we can hear them ringing out once again. Sometimes we need to pull out what’s dark and overgrown from the root to let the light in. And sometimes we’ll need to take time to celebrate the stubbornly cheerful dandelions who remind us that, despite all evidence to the contrary, it’s not over yet.

I’m a 53-year old cradle Catholic who made 200 episodes of the Raised Catholic podcast over four years because the Holy Spirit led me to make a space for Catholics on the margins to build their relationship with God both inside and outside of church walls. I’ve written for this group for years in lots of places, most recently here on Substack, and I’ve often been unsure as to where this work is going or what it’s all for. It’s easy to lose hope, especially today, but I’m grateful to St. Cecilia’s and this inspiring group of speakers, and for the reminder that for each one of us our work lies at the conjunction of our gifts and compassion and the world’s deep need. Our vision and work requires daily persistence and trust as we love one another the best we can. After all, God is still moving in and through us if we will let Him. And as Fr. Greg reminded the group last night:

For the vision is yet for an appointed time;
but it speaks of the end,
and does not lie.
If it delays, wait for it;
it will surely come, it will not delay.

Habakkuk 2:3

Thank you, friends, and blessings on the work of your hands:

Dr. Kit Evans-Ford, Social entrepreneur, Founder Argrow House, Autistic and Loved

Dr. Jim O’Connell, Physician, Founder Boston Healthcare for the Homeless

Rev. Liz Walker, Founder Can We Talk

Rev. John Finley, Episcopal priest, Co-Founder Epiphany School

Becca Stephens, Episcopal priest, Founder Thistle Farms

Bob Goff, Founder Love Does

Fr. Gregory Boyle, Jesuit priest, Founder & Director Homeboy Ministries

Fr. John Unni, pastor St. Cecilia Boston

Fr. Richard Rohr, Franciscan priest, Founder Center for Action and Contemplation