Pilgrims' Tales: Lent 2

Like Chaucer's travellers to Canterbury, a company of folks are heading to Jerusalem with Jesus in the 40 day pilgrimage Christians call Lent. Each week during Sunday worship, Crescent Fort Rouge United will meet one of that company in a monologue. This Sunday, we hear from the Pharisee who saw Jesus weep over Jerusalem.
                                                                                                                                                      

It’s odd that tears make for clearer vision. You’d think with all that water and salt coming out of your eyes, your vision would be blurred.

I am a scholar. I value deep debate, the struggle to understand what God requires of us, the tension between our rich tradition and the new spirit that calls for change.

And the tensions of living a life of faith in these bewildering, bedeviled times.

These struggles call for a sharp intellect.

And yet…and yet…

I am beginning to realize that it’s when I see through my tears that I see most clearly.

When I sat in the hospital room, holding my grandmother’s tiny hand, no longer pretending to be brave – there are my tears.

When I watch that Tim Horton’s commercial, where the man goes to the airport to meet the plane from his homeland, to at last be reunited with his children and his wife, and he says “Welcome to Canada” – there are my tears.

When I see the desperate people in Haiti – so many family members dead, so many missing people, not being able to feed your children, to protect your daughters – there are my tears.

Or the Winnipeg woman who died in a bus shelter, died of exposure, died of poverty, died of neglect – there are my tears.

Or when I held our new baby for the first time, that little miracle of bright eyes and fingers and toes and baby-smell, that gift, that blessed, blessed gift – there are my tears.

Tears make for clearer vision.

Salt opens the icy road, that long, long road between my head and my heart.

And I see.

I see what matters, through my tears.