For National Dog Bite Awareness Week
Please know that just because I am focusing on a topic related to a national recognition week, it means only some of my future reflections will do the same. This week I am comfortable focusing on this topic. I know a lot about dog bites.
Six months ago, I was attacked by five dogs and very seriously injured. I have been skillfully cared for, not only during my two hospital stays at BAMC, where I had four surgeries….. but also by, well, just everybody in my orbit. My family, my friends, my workplace, my colleagues. Even people in former workplaces! And most significantly, the staff here at CMMC. So, so much love and care. I received home health services for nearly four months and am still in Occupational Therapy and Physical Therapy. I have been given much more skillful love and care than I ever anticipated receiving in my lifetime. I am profoundly grateful.
Many people have naturally assumed that because I’m a minister, I have discovered some brand-new spiritual Truth in overcoming this. I haven’t. Perhaps I have gained some good perspectives and helpful awareness, but spiritual Truth? No, nothing new. Let me expand.
The story I’m about to tell you has been around for a long time and is nothing new. However, I need to credit this creative iteration to Rev. Kelly Isola.
Once upon a time, there was a Kingdom of Acorns. Not surprisingly, this kingdom was located at the base of an oak tree. These acorns weren’t just any acorns. They were modern and fully Westernized, so they were purposeful, driven, and energetic. Because much of their population was middle-aged Baby Boomers, they had many self-help courses and books. The acorns attended seminars with titles like “Getting All You Can Out of Your Shell” and “Who Would You Be Without Your Nutty Story?” There were woundedness and recovery groups for all the acorns, especially those traumatized from their original fall from the oak tree. There were spas where they had their shells polished and oiled. Unique provider acorns offered homeopathic therapies to enhance longevity and well-being. The acorns were always looking for something new so they could be the best acorns they could be.
Then one day, a strange acorn came from out of the blue into their midst, dropped by a bird. He had no cap. He was dirty, and his shell was scratched. He acted oddly and did, of course, not fit in. He made a negative impression on the acorns. The capless acorn told a wild tale. He cowered, pointing up at the great oak tree. He stammered in awe, “WE ARE THAT!”
The other acorns concluded that he was obviously delusional. But one lone acorn engaged the disheveled and weird acorn, saying, “Tell us how we become this tree?” The acorn that fell from the sky now pointed to the ground, saying, “It has something to do with going into the ground and breaking open, I think.” The other acorns were appalled. They said, “This is utter insanity; he is truly delusional! If we did that, we wouldn’t be acorns anymore!”
An acorn is a wonderful metaphor for life. It’s a seed, yet within the small seed lies the possibility of a great oak tree! In the process of that potential playing out, there is darkness and breaking open.
Recently, in some Christian denominations, Pentecost was observed. It’s an observation of events in the scriptures (Acts 2:1-13) after Jesus ascended. The Apostles were “keeping a low profile,” and for a good reason, there was a risk in being associated with Jesus. The Apostles and others who followed Jesus had gathered to celebrate the feast of the summer harvest. A howling wind was heard, and what looked like flames appeared on the heads of the disciples, and each began to speak in tongues. The flame was the Holy Spirit, and the disciples discovered the courage within them to start sharing the story of Jesus with the world. This event is often depicted in religious art as flames burning above the disciples’ heads. It is a profound event to contemplate, even at its most basic level. As a child, I remember seeing Pentecost illustrations and thinking, “Do those flames hurt?”
Well, if I was to answer that question posed by my younger self, I might quote Black theologian Howard Thurman from his book Mysticism from the Experience of Love, written in 1961:
“To love means dealing with persons in the concrete rather than in the abstract. In the presence of love, there are no types or stereotypes, no classes and no masses….
To speak of love for humanity is meaningless. There is no such thing as humanity. What we call humanity has a name, was born, lives on a street, gets hungry, needs all the particular things that we need….
There can be no love apart from suffering. Love demands that we expose ourselves at our most vulnerable point by keeping the heart open.”
I have discovered no new spiritual truth because the answer to being broken open, love, has been around for a long time. Love is not new, and love is the basis of all Jesus taught, so what new thing would have helped me more? I am profoundly grateful.
I know your capacity for love is great. These are difficult and confusing times. I don’t know if you watch the news, but over the past few days, nine shootings have occurred in San Antonio alone. The fix for that sort of thing requires heaping helpings of nothing new: LOVE. Keep on loving, please. Demonstrate love as skillfully as you have for me. Spread that stuff everywhere. Don’t stop caring, don’t stop praying, don’t stop loving. And I won’t stop either.
I thank you for reading, be blessed this day.
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