"Am I my brother's keeper?" asks a plaintive Cain after he has killed his brother Abel. The implied answer is "yes, we do have an obligation to care for our family members."
This morning's sermon was about the Great Commandant: Love the Lord Your God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself. It was ironic. I had gotten into a discussion with a more fundamentalist Christian a couple days ago about that very scripture verse and what it meant. The first message I got this morning was a slap for arguing--it is more important that you have a relationship with God than whether you disagree about how to interpret the Bible--weren't you being a bit egotistical?
Head bowed, "Yes, Lord."
Then came the reading in the title. I am not quoting it as I want you to go look it up. Two nights ago, I had found myself thrashing around once more over Mom's death, looking for peace, looking for a way to forgive and let it go, and praying that it be so. This morning I understood that I had to say this before I could let it go.
At the time Mom died, I had a lot of guilt, anger, hurt. Why had she not called me? Why didn't she ask for help sooner? Why was I detained in Portland? As I wrestled with these questions, my church chose to do a Bible study of the Book of Daniel. I tried to get to each one, but the only one I could was the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abedneggo. The point of the story was "Where was Daniel?" Daniel wasn't there because God knew Daniel was listening to Him; He wanted to know about the other three. I wasn't at home for my mother's death because it wasn't my turn to be tested, and it wasn't my trial. I had to accept that. I had done what I had believed God wanted me to do to the best of my ability, and I had to trust that. Dad had given me the role of my parents' keeper; God had not.
Shortly thereafter, I wound up having to have a hysterectomy, and I also had to accept that God had denied me the role of traditional mother. That wasn't an easy trial either--and I still grieve it. Yet I know that I made the best decision when I chose not to have children because the relationship I was in wasn't healthy enough.
God HAS given me many roles however: sister, wife, daughter, doctor, aunt, bhauju, and he has given me a name that embodies Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and the Western female aspect of God; and Kali, the Hindu Mother Goddess, the protectoress of mankind, and one of the three aspects of the Highest feminine divine. To invoke her name is to invoke the other two, and hence the most powerful Eastern female aspect of God--and He gave me the name Calanthe, a name out of Greece, where the West meets the East, and has made me a bridge between those two worlds. I didn't ask for any of it--and I have to go where He asks me to go. I don't know where that will be.
So, before I go, I have to finish a bit of keeping of my "brothers" and slip into the role that Nola assigned me: "Aunt Preachy"--that name hurt until a friend replied, "I wish my children had an Aunt Preachy. Maybe they would listen to her."---and I started to recognize that aunts are very important in our lives and who we become, and one of our roles is to be a bit preachy at times. We W women are a bossy bunch anyway. We don't much like being told what to do, and we consider ourselves strong, independent, liberated. We are all of that--and the W men tend to marry women who are that way as well. Yet, I hope that we can let go of the egotism in that strength for just a moment, and embrace the sharing of hard-fought-for women's wisdom that is also a birthright of we who are female.
I care for my sister, Nola; my sister-in-law,Tigress;and my cousin, Big Boss, and I care for their immortal souls--and I am worried for them. I cannot reach them. A few weeks ago, I had a discussion with my older brother and he was asking "where does this antisocial piece come from in our family?" and he blamed Dad. I went home and decided that it doesn't come from one side or the other--it is in each of us. It is the unexamined life. It is the outcome of ego without true humility. It is what we humans are without God in our lives--because God is the brake on our mind. Our mind can justify anything--it is the knowledge of Good and Evil that makes us think that we know enough to control our lives and not need God's guidance. We think that we know good, and that we are good. But our mind can slide over the edge to evil when we don't even realize it. The most important question is how do we stop it--in ourselves and in the next generation?
Last year I worked with a man who wound up committing suicide by shooting himself in front of his wife. He literally made the choice to die rather than admit that he was wrong--and tried to leave his guilt on her. I pray for his soul as well. If ever there was a human being condemned to Hell, he is there. Refusing to admit our limitations is the biggest sin--that is playing God. Refusing to accept our responsibilities is the second biggest sin--that is denying God's Will. In each choice, we run the risk of both. If we are taking care of someone else's responsibilities, then we are aiding and abetting them in avoiding God's Will. Each day, we have to ask, "What is the task the Lord has for me today? What is MY responsibility today? How is the Lord asking ME to glorify HIM?"
So often, we follow, instead, our own need to feel the rush of ego--the need to be RIGHT; not the quiet, peaceful, unacknowledged-by-man-only-by-God, deep-in-the-heart contentment of knowing that you are walking the path that God has given you. I once wrote an essay entitled, "Follow Your Jockey.", comparing us to racehorses, who needed the wisdom of The Jockey to get us through life. So go see Secretariat--know that we must contribute the heart, the energy, and the will--but without The Jockey on board, we might come in first, but we will never win the real prize. And if we fight against The Jockey, we'll not win at all--but we all are running the race. We have no choice in that.
"Evil triumphs when good men do nothing." -Thomas Jefferson. So when to say something? When to keep my mouth shut? I am not perfect, and I don't pretend to be. Yet, I have fought some difficult battles and I have gained a great deal of wisdom. As a Bhauju, it is my duty to pass what I have learned on. The smart ones will learn vicariously, the arrogant will rant about what a bossy bitch I am.
I can't run your race. I can sometimes see when someone is fighting with The Jockey. I don't want to run your life, but I do want you to do well in the race that really matters--because I LOVE you, and I care about you. There have been a lot of times in my life when I needed someone to really talk with me and tell me their true feelings. Usually they tried in an offhand or indirect way because they were afraid of my reaction. I reacted to the fact it was offhand and not direct--and there we go. The message didn't get through. So this one is especially for you--Nola, Tigress, and Big Boss--because I love you and you ARE my sisters--and I don't buy that "just a cousin" crap, Big Boss.
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