Spread a little love

What strange times these are. For six months we have been living with a virus that has all but changed the way we understand ourselves, one another, our world. We’ve learned to wear masks, keep distance from each other, and to use Zoom calls as the new way to celebrate birthdays, weddings and even funerals.

If that weren’t enough to get us to pause and reflect, some of us needed to take to the streets to demand changes in the ways we engage our society. When Tropical Storm Isaias blew through our region a few weeks ago, we were again faced with living without … some without power, some without beloved trees, some without rooftops.

For the most part we are resilient people. But these past months have surely tested us. What are faithful people to do? What can we say when it feels like the world is falling apart? The news keeps getting bleaker and bleaker, wearing a mask is called a political act, and our politicians seem to fiddle while Rome burns.

My faith has always rested sure in the knowledge of a God who loves us and who seeks only the best for us and for the creation God brought forth into being. Even now I know that to be true. It is to that faith that I return morning by morning and day by day to find comfort and assurance. And I know I am not alone in that seeking.

A few weeks ago I watched a church service

The Rev. Dr. Maria LaSala

led by a former student of mine from Yale Divinity School. She was preaching on the parable of the sower, found in the Gospel of Matthew. Perhaps you know the parable. A sower went out to sow, it begins. Seeds fall along a path and are eaten by birds, and on rocky ground where they can’t take root, then near thorns, and finally on good soil. Predictably, we conclude, only the seed thrown on good soil will take root.

But how can we be so certain that some of the seeds were wasted? What if we saw seeds thrown everywhere and anywhere as a sign of the abundant love of God, sowing love into all the nooks and crannies of the earth, of our communities, even our own selves? That was the message preached by the Rev. Elizabeth Gleich, to her Vermont congregation.

On a warm summer day not long ago, my husband and I, in need of a treat, took a drive to the Dip Top ice cream shop on Route 1 in Orange. We followed their protocol, standing six feet from the counter, waiting until the customer before us completed his transaction. We approached the counter and gave the server our order. I noticed someone entering the shop, approaching where I was standing. Clear spots on the floor marked safe distance, and I pointed them out to the new customer. I’m sure my voice revealed my anxiety, and he immediately stepped back, embarrassed. Even with ice cream in my hands, I was not feeling good. I had been harsh. I had not shown love, at a time when love is most needed.

Perhaps it is time to throw love out to the world with abandon. Sometimes some of those seeds will be lost. But spreading kindness is never without value, is never in vain.

Mask wearing is a symbol of love. Reaching out to one another after a storm, and in times of important protest, as well as in the midst of this pandemic, continues to be a symbol of love.

Oh, there are challenges before us, and, for some, too many to bear. These days we cannot afford to be mean. We share a common struggle and a common hope. The more we show gratitude, the more we spread seeds of love and compassion, the stronger we will be as a people of faith, as a country, as a world.

Maria LaSala / Contributed photo