FOR many of us, February brings a return to the routine of life. I notice that the newspapers over the last few weekends have been full of advice about diets, fitness routines and work life balance.
The crib has been packed up, the advertising cycle has moved from Christmas sales to ‘back to school specials’ and some supermarkets have already snuck in some hot cross buns! But the ultimate signal for me that we have to move on and into a new year is the discarded Christmas tree.
What was once a lush green tree sparkling with light, energy and an angel atop is now dry and withered. These once admired trees lie on random suburban nature strips or are stuffed into rubbish bins leaving prickly pine needles in their wake. So, as the flurry of Christmas and New Year celebrations and holidays subside, our lives return to the routine.
On a liturgical level we have moved into ‘Ordinary’ time, which, is far from ordinary. Ordinary time provides an opportunity for us to walk with Jesus and his disciples as a pattern for our daily lives as we engage in an ordered account of the life work of Jesus through the lens Matthew’s gospel (with some John interspersed). There is a grace in knowing that Jesus is present to us in the order or routine of our daily lives.
In Melbourne, the routine of our daily life has been shocked as the impact of that what appears to be the deliberate act of a car being driven into crowded footpaths becomes known and real. We are forced to face the eternal questions that surround our experience of suffering and death.
The ripple effect of a tragedy of this magnitude is felt in many homes throughout the country. And we are also forced to think about the potential for malevolence that is part of the human condition. We are living the paschal mystery. And sometimes we have to stay with the horror of the death on a cross.
Mary Catherine Hilkert in Naming Grace (2008) writes: “Christians do not have an explanation of either suffering or hope, but only the story of Jesus and a cloud of witnesses who throughout history have testified to their experiences of resurrection.”
And all of this in the context of the beginning of a year which may already raise mixed feelings in us: we may fear changes ahead, be trying to make sense of loss, or we may just have a sense that the ‘sameness’ of our days will overwhelm our spirits.
Perhaps all we can do at times like this is lean in. Lean in to the stories of our ancestors who called out to God, whose experience of Jesus is one of hope and life, and whose experience is of a faithful God. Perhaps leaning into our story of the unfolding presence of God helps us to hold in creative tension all that we know about our lives and the world. This world is graced by the God about whom Celtic wisdom proclaims with confidence as:
… a mighty strength:
God’s power to guide,
God’s might to uphold,
God’s eyes to watch over,
God’s ear to hear,
God’s word to give speech,
God’s hand to guard,
God’s way to lie before,
God’s shield to shelter,
God’s host to secure.