Journal of Sacred Work

Today's meditation was written by Cathy Self, Senior Vice President for the Baptist Healing Trust.

    "…so we never live, but we hope to live." – Blaise Pascal.

     It seemed like a small shift at first and now feels like a tidal wave looming over our heads, and words like collapse, crisis, disaster are commonplace in speaking of our potential economic future. My son, a financial planner, shared a story of a new support group formed in New York City for anyone dating or married to someone in the financial sector – the group calls itself “Dating a Banker Anonymous.” Although at first glance the telling is somewhat humorous, the reality is grimmer. I heard a friend tell last week that she has just stopped opening her bills and another who just throws his financial statements into the trash, unopened. For some, comforts of the past are giving way to discomfort, while for others what has been hard is just getting harder.

     An insightful writer, Jill Caratini, seems also an astute observer of life and recently reminded me of the renewed timeliness of the writings of Blaise Pascal, a French mathematician, physicist, and religious philosopher. In the 17^th century Pascal wrote of our human tendency towards escapism when fear is alive and hope seems out of reach. In his theological work titled Pensées ("Thoughts") Pascal observes “So imprudent are we that we wander in the times which are not ours and do not think of the only one which belongs to us. And so idle are we that we dream of those times which are no more and thoughtlessly overlook that which alone exists. For the present is generally painful to us. We conceal it from our sight, because it troubles us… So we never live, but we hope to live” (emphasis mine).

     The choice to find solace in our remembrances of the past or in our dreams of some hoped-for future may be natural, if not tempting. Staying in bed seems very reasonable and safer to some. In Caratini’s words, however, when life is preoccupied with what once was or what might be, it is something less than living. Moreover, ours is a history marked by expressions, prophecies, stories, and assurances uttered in the very midst of famines, warfare, plagues, exile, and losses of every kind. These voices remind us that the antidote to fear is love, the perfect love which casts out despair and weariness.

     Christians have entered this week into the season of Lent, a time of reflection and preparation, a time of hope for what will come, but most of all a time of remembering to remember – perfect Love casts out fear. As caregivers we come into contact everyday with others who would love to escape the pain and suffering of today. They look to us for hope for a better tomorrow. For many that tomorrow will not come as we may wish it and dream it to be. But we can always offer Love, that perfect Love that casts out fear. Of course, we cannot give what we do not have. In this moment of time in which so many are living in fear, where are you living? Is your life founded in Love?  In the private places of your life, Love awaits – listen, look, rest.