Life On The Precipice

October is one of those months that seems to sit at a precipice. It’s the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the holiday season. The weather is shifting, but not at its winter peak of coldness. Animals have likely begun hibernation, but some plant life is still holding on, the soil sending the last of its goodness up through roots and stalks. 

One of the scriptures commonly used this week in churches that follow the liturgy of an ecumenical calendar is Luke 6:20-31. In this passage, Jesus says things that we are familiar with and speaks of themes that come up a lot in his ministry. 

“Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh…but woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.” 

In other examples of Jesus’s teachings, this type of phrasing typically highlights truths such as the proud and the haughty will be brought down and the meek will be blessed. However, this passage feels different. This passage in Luke feels like Jesus speaking into the shifts in life- the places where we find ourselves at a precipice. By contrasting times where we are fed and then hungry, mournful and then laughing, Jesus is speaking to just how temporary our earthly circumstances can be. Those who are healthy, fed, and happy may find themselves in a season of lack, and vice versa. 

I’m sure we can all think of times when our station or security in life has been altered. My family had a great deal of financial security when I was a child, but by the time I considered college, my parents could barely pay the mortgage and eventually lost our home. I put myself through college and was on food stamps, working as much as possible while also graduating early simply so I could settle into a more stable financial situation. I was fed, but barely, and certainly not like in my youth. Experiencing the fear that comes from financial insecurity changed the lens through which I saw so many things. One circumstantial shift altered the way I saw everything.

What I love about Jesus, is that his advice was the same to everyone, regardless of their station or circumstance. This is how this passage ends. 

“But I say to you that listen, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you….Do to others as you would have them do to you.” 

Jesus didn’t tell the listeners to only do those things when we are fed, filled, and laughing but to do them regardless of how life is treating them. That means when I find myself anxious or struggling, Jesus says the way out of my troubles is to be a blessing and to give love. 

As spiritual directors, we often find ourselves in conversation with directees who are navigating life’s changing tides. They may come to us uncertain of what it means to be a Christian after years of being so certain. We might meet with people who are confronting health issues after years of being healthy and active, the sudden change in their bodies leaving them frustrated and disoriented. We may also have the privilege of companioning people who are facing the end of life and the many thoughts and feelings that come with anticipating death. 

And so what a gift it is to be able to look at Jesus, reminded of a way to live that is unwavering. Love, humility, kindness, and gentleness have always been the answer to a world that seems to waver and quake under our feet. When our hearts are displaced, we can ground our lives in the fruits of the spirit, guiding our directees into that same place of stability. We can meditate on the steadfast advice of Jesus, contemplating how his example has led us in times of fullness and lack, and be that calm presence of love for the people we companion. 

As I reflect on the changing seasons, the cycles of the moon and her tides, and all of the ways we witness the ebb and flow of circumstance, I find so much gratitude for a world that gives to us in bounty. May we enter this season of darkness being active lights for the world, amplified in our brightness against the unknown of the dark.