To Speak Plainly
Pilgrims on the Way (Assisi, Italy)
To engage or not to engage. Navigating relationships can feel like turning the crank on a jack-in-the-box. Even when I turn the handle as slowly and carefully as I can, I wince when the insane-looking clown springs out. It’s worse when something catches and the buffoon emerges off-queue. In the movie, “Elf,” I resonate with Buddy’s interaction with a large pile of jack-in-the-boxes. Tasked with testing the toys, he squints as though in pain as he anticipates each pop. In the end, he lands on his back.
These days, human connection can be unnerving and unpredictable, requiring careful intention. I don’t want to turn the crank for fear of what will jump out. It’s become more and more difficult to engage in conversation with others who see reality so differently than I do. I don’t always know how to respond to comments that sow division. I struggle with shock, anger and disbelief in a world that has become unpredictable and unsafe. In an attempt to protect my inner peace, I sometimes end up doing and saying nothing. I want to stuff jack back in his metaphorical box.
Walking the Way in Community
What’s the secret to remaining aware and connected with the people around me? On my pilgrimage to Assisi, Italy earlier this year, it was as if Jesus walked with my companions and me. We walked side-by-side, conversed on the path, broke bread, prayed together, learned new ways of seeing – the sites, perspectives, our hearts. It was an experience of the road to Emmaus when the Resurrected Christ appeared to his disciples on the Way. We walked the path of St. Francis and St. Clare on the road to San Damiano where Francis heard God’s voice and where Clare lived. We beheld the stories of Francis’ travels and imagined how he navigated his thirteenth century world.
My companions on the pilgrimage held space for one another – with wonder, curiosity, humor and an eagerness to connect. The idea of a pilgrimage revealed itself as we walked, interacted, and prayed in unity.
On our road to Emmaus, we broke bread together at Eucharist, gathered close to the altar and we held the Body of Christ with awe and joy, chanting the words, “Lamb of God, you take away the Sin of the world, have mercy on us.” We repeated it until everyone held the host and, unified by our hope and belief, we consumed the Eucharist together. We broke bread at our meals, sharing a table as we passed around the dishes of food. I felt as if I’d come home. I wonder if this was the unity of faith that early Christian communities realized in the first century.
Take and eat. Take and drink. We walked the roads and paths that Francis and Clare walked. We discussed the mysteries of our faith, laughed together, and heard each others’ stories. With lightness of being and humbleness of heart, our worlds expanded as our sense of belonging to each other deepened.
I never hesitated to turn the crank while on pilgrimage. What popped open surprised and delighted me as we discovered the Way.
Jesus taught a different Way than the world obsessed with status and honor. When he healed the deaf man with a speech impediment (Mark 7:31-37), the man was able to “speak plainly.” I’ve ruminated on that phrase and I’ve decided that I would like to try it out. My words do not have to change people, but I can communicate God’s love, tenderness and mercy in a particular moment. My actions will not end war or fix policy, but I can respond to a need from my neighbor and speak words of encouragement. In small, significant ways, I can defend the dignity of people in front of me. Jesus spoke plainly to those he could see and touch. He didn’t change or defeat Rome. He changed the hearts of his listeners. In his presence, people witnessed and experienced healing. Jesus never hesitated to engage others and to say what needed to be said. Maybe if I remembered that, I could find the courage to move the crank, welcome the uncertainty and speak.
Life is a pilgrimage. Together, let’s walk the road that leads to new life in Christ. Together, let’s “speak plainly” with love.
