Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, "What were you arguing about on the way?" But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." Mark 9:33-35

Or do you suppose that it is for nothing that the scripture says, "God yearns jealously for the spirit that he has made to dwell in us"? But he gives all the more grace; therefore it says, "God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble." James 4:5-6

Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann opines that "The world for which you have been so carefully prepared is being taken away from you by the grace of God." As I move onward in years, I know that Brueggemann is so very right--as much as I try to deny or ignore the facts right before me. As much as we try to control our destinies or deny our frailities, the world we live in has a way of bringing what is taken away to light. We've learned to "accentuate the positive" and so, like the disciples, try to be the very best we can be. We focus on our successes and strengths. While this is a good thing in most respects, focusing only on the strengths can lead to competitiveness and pride. Learning to accept that life is impermanent, that living "takes away", often allows us also to accept our humanity and, indeed, brings out the best in us.

At first, there are small details that begin to vanish from our lives. One day, we notice we can't see the phone book on the table where we have used it for years without a bright light. The print on the menu at the nearby restaurant has mysteriously become smaller overnight. Late night dinners with friends lead to a sluggish feeling the next day. A tennis game requires Advil before and after. Our bodies become less reliable for sure. But then, one day, we realize that the years have taken away much more.

This weekend I became very aware of this fact once again. My husband Bryan was in Kentucky this weekend, visiting his father's family. His father's only sibling, Aunt Pat, is suffering from lung and brain cancer. She will not be with us much longer. Bryan had some good time with Aunt Pat and her family. On Sunday morning, he had time with Aunt Pat alone. Bryan wanted to ask her some questions about the Kelleher/Giannoni side of the family. That morning, Pat's memory seemed to be fading. But then, Bryan and Pat got out the family pictures and the memories started to come back. When Bryan arrived home last evening, he brought two bulging envelopes of pictures. As we poured over the pictures, my own memories resurfaced--the first time I met his grandparents before we were married when Nana cooked a big Italian dinner, our rehearsal dinner, Christmas in Atlanta. And there were all those people I grew to love as my own family--all four of Bryan's grandparents, his father, Aunt Frances--people who I see no longer face to face. There was a picture of the Gianonni family when they first came to America from Italy. There were Bryan's parents on their wedding day. As I looked at the young, beaming faces across the years including my own, I was aware of how much time has passed and how much has been taken away. Yet, I was also so very much aware of all the blessings received over the years. The love given and the love received. There are days that I wish so much for those large family gatherings around the holiday. There are days that I wish to joke with Bryan's dad or play Scrabble one evening by the fireplace with Granddaddy and Grandmommy Bryan. Having Pop-Pop Kelleher burst into the room with Nana by his side effusive over the All-You-Can-Eat Fried Clam Special at Howard Johnson's. How much they celebrated and loved us when we got married, when the children were born. It is easy to focus on the loss and taking away.

Yet....God's grace is in the midst of this taking away. The blessings and love become that much more precious as we grow to realize that indeed it is impermanent. If we let the world have its way, we can be too busy to recognize that it is these relationships and encounters with those we love, these very impermanent relationships, are sacred vessels for the holy in our life. And when we love and lose these sacred vessels over time, we realize that the love given and received does not fade away. And we find that love again and again in other sacred vessels that come into our lives. On days when we roughhouse with the children, it's just like Pop-Pop taking the grandchildren out for a spin on the icy parking lot in his car. Or when we settle down to play Scrabble by the fire with friends, you can feel Grandmommy's presence when you put down "haw" or "quark." Weddings, baptisms, and funerals of fellow parishioners bring all those similar family events back to your heart and soul. And eventually, as we let go a little bit more each day, as life "takes away," we realize that what is of real importance will always be there. Love remains. The impermanence makes it precious---while the ones we love are taken away face-to-face, the love shared remains always in the heart and soul. That is the grace of aging. That is a bedrock grace of life.

Text: James 3:16-4:6; Mark 9:30-37

Pondering: What has been taken away from you? Does the essential, that of real importance, still remain? Have you experienced a deep loss yet been able to find the love remains?

In Christ's Love,