the autumn mist

 

Yesterday's collect for the day prayed that we "not be anxious about earthly things, but love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, hold fast to those that shall endure." Included in our prayerbook for the first Time, Hatchett says* that, dating from the fifth and sixth century Leonine sacramentary, the prayer reflects the tumultuous times of the barbarian invasions. 

I like the collect even though it also reflects the darkness of the Middle Ages, by which Time the church had given up on Paul's and Jesus' view that God was imminently to shake up earth and renovate humanity with the Second Coming, the general resurrection, coming of God's kingdom on earth, and all that; and shifted to what sadly still holds for most Christians, that things heavenly are pie in the sky, the kingdom of heaven is our next life reward for those who earn God's favor in this life. 

With the church laying claim to Matthew 16, keys to the kingdom, with power and authority to bind on earth and bind in heaven, fear and obedience to the church was/is the key to manipulative power and control. A bit of historical criticism will tell why Matthew needed Jesus to say that at the Time. Read Ken Follett's novel "The Pillars of the Earth" to see how the threat of hell coupled with Matthew enabled the church's arrogant lust for power, wealth, and control over its people.   

Still, the collect, along with Calvin and Hobbes, keep me mindful that the best parts of life and the best of Times are not the things around us, but what we sense, our relationships, love, ideas, wisdom and knowledge and the pursuit thereof, the joyful experience of being in love that is requited, in my life, the soul deep way that my children sometimes looked back at me as I looked into their eyes. A little child running to leap into my arms upon my arrival home from a long trip, hugging my neck, clinging, and refusing to let go. These are my things that shall endure. The totally exclusive personal relationship between Calvin and Hobbes stirs my own memories, and reminds me wonderfully that the feelings of all-consuming love go both ways.

At least for a while! As another comic strip, "For Better or for Worse" shows with Michael now away at college, everyone grows up and away. One day little Jackie Paper comes no more and Puff the Magic Dragon slips into his cave. Even Calvin can't be six years old into eternity, Calvin will grow up, marry Susie, move away, and Hobbes' heart will be broken. Hobbes standing there staring out the window is only a foretaste of what's to come.

In my own case, life and Time, somewhere there's a little stuffed Mickey Mouse doll that Mom, my grandmother, gave me when I was six or seven or eight. I think probably nobody knew my Mickey except me, and maybe Gina. Mickey didn't go away to university with me, and I'll bet he's still watching for me to come home. IDK, he may be standing there at the window with Hobbes.

Life IS short, and we haven't much Time, and the best and only part of it happens in the present, which we carry with us only in our senses. Sometimes in our dreams.

The late Fred Buechner always rocked it:

“When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.

For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I'm feeling most ghost-like, it is your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist. When I'm feeling sad, it's my consolation. When I'm feeling happy, it's part of why I feel that way.

If you forget me, one of the ways I remember who I am will be gone. If you forget, part of who I am will be gone.”  

++++++++

T88&c

T fer Tom

88 for years

& c for Counting. 

* Marion Hatchett, Commentary on the American Prayer Book, 1981, Seabury NY, page 192.