mat·ter /ˈmadər/

I do not worship matter, I worship the God of matter, who became matter for my sake and deigned to inhabit matter, who worked out my salvation through matter. I will not cease from honoring that matter which works for my salvation. I venerate it.

~ John of Damascus (6th century Father of the Church)

mat·ter

/ˈmadər/

noun: matter; plural noun: matters; noun: the matter

1. physical substance in general; (in physics) that which occupies space and possesses rest mass.
2. a substance or material."organic matter” material substance; stuff; medium
3. an affair or situation under consideration; a topic."a great deal of work was done on this matter”
4. LAW  something which is to be tried or proved in court; a case. the present situation or state of affairs.
5. something that evokes a specified feeling."it's a matter of complete indifference to me” 
• the reason for distress or a problem."what's the matter?

verb: matter; 3rd person present: matters; past tense: mattered; past participle: mattered; gerund or present participle: mattering

1. be of importance; have significance.
• (of a person) be important or influential.

2. (of a wound) secrete or discharge pus.

Black Lives Matter.

This phrase is so bold as to need shouting in the streets, indeed painted onto the streets in giant script, bold reiteration, again, and again.

We are fatigued of this shouting and yet we will reiterate, reiterate until the oppressor hears - not just hears but changes.

I add bold font to the words and phrases in this definition which best illustrate the problem: situation, distress, wound, ~ of importance and significance.

Black Lives Matter.

St. John of Damascus spoke of matter as the stuff of God in the way that modern physicists speak of matter as the stuff of all existence. These two concepts are not separate, not two. Matter is God. God is Love. Love matters. All of life matters.

Black Lives Matter.

Idiots who argue against this bold, loud statement with counter phrases like all lives matter or even blue lives matter are not listening because they have been reared through history by the ignorant, privileged, discourse of hate which seeks to redefine the very word matter. They only see their own situation as worthy of mattering. They only live in their own bubble. They do not recognize the foul puss discharged from this wound of the world. They refuse to see the importance of anything other than their own fear and anger. They reiterate the wound we seek to heal.

We who see this fault and all the evil it has caused through that same history shout - out - loud. It is no longer a coincidence to me that the pronunciation is /ˈmaddər/.

Black Lives Matter.

Though eternally hindered by my own whiteness, I listen none-the-less. In my own listening, I hear a word that means wound, a word that means situation, a word that means significance. As a Christian, I hear a word that means the very essence of the Incarnation, Christ lives in us, works through us, in spite of us. If we but listen. All of life, all of creation, all of the stuff of the love of the living God - matters. But what needs shouting most - “I venerate it:”

Black Lives Matter.

Spring has never been so appreciated.

This year we longed for Spring the same as we always do after winter begins to ease its frigid grip. But it seems to have unfolded its beauty more vividly than ever.

Or maybe we’re just noticing that beauty more and feel more grateful for it.

The tulip has always been my favorite flower. You can find at least one or two in almost every yard and garden in the Southeast United States each Spring. But from the perspective of this Spring, it seems I’ve not seen any tulips in the past few years.

Last year it did snow and freeze the tulips in my neighborhood just as they were sprouting. Didn’t that happen the year before that? And the year before that? I can’t remember.

But this year I found tulips everywhere. And I brought them in the house. I picked them one or two at at time in order to ration them like I’m learning to do with food and paper products. This practice led me to realize the benefits of the practice of gratitude for enough, and the joy of appreciation for abundance.

This is my second Spring in the house where I live so moving around a lot makes it hard to notice the long term annual production of garden flowers. But my mother’s garden looks better this year too.

Or at least it seems that way. Maybe I just didn’t notice last year. And the year before that.

This might be because we notice beauty more when we are in the midst of crisis. Or maybe when we long for beauty more when we are afraid. Or maybe we are more grateful for beauty when we are grieving.

All of the above.

But I wonder if this wasn’t some sort of gift like the Holy Spirit called FTD because we were in the hospital(s). Clearly all of us who care are at least spiritually in the hospital, praying for the sick and the caregivers alike. Empathizing with those who die alone and their families, alike.

So, as the last of my tulips begin to fade in the last light of these Spring mornings, I turn more to hope than lament. Because seeing the beauty around me caused my heart to open to the shared hope of the world - even in the face of global pain.

Wonder what will fill my vase next? Perhaps some azaleas, or zinnias, or sunflowers. For the beauty of life goes on. The beauty of life sustains us.

Breathe.

Musicians know a lot about breathing. Like athletes, they work at awareness of their breath, but like singers, all musicians use the breath to enhance the music. It is called phrasing.

I have been touched this week by the musicians who, like the comedians, offered us online gifts for our comfort during this time of anxiety during physical distancing and social isolation. 

Chris Thile offered “Live From Home” and challenged many of his friends to sing and play for us. Yo Yo Ma posted several deeply beautiful pieces and James Taylor posted old footage of songs like “Secret of Life” at  #comfortsongs.

Ellen posted video of talking on her phone from her sofa with John Legend who later offered a full concert from his home #TogetherAtHome. Jimmy Fallon and Stephen Colbert did bits from their homes too - really funny bits. It’s not easy to serve up good jokes like that to just your wife’s smart phone and no other audience. No big laughs.

From their homes! 

The sound was blotchy, they forgot lyrics, they played wrong notes, kids and pets and spouses were distracting, glare and sirens in the background were annoying. But this was the best medicine these celebrities could have sent to a worried and anxious world. It was even better than amateur footage of Italians and Spaniards singing from their balconies - well, almost.

They didn’t complain about losing all the gigs that were canceled. They didn’t complain about getting grounded. They went home. They sang and played for us, they laughed and cut up, they played games. And they raised money. Lot’s of money for the cause.

The world got a little closer this week.

We’ll get through this. Just breathe.

And thanks for all the comfort posts!