Ann Rennie Reflects

One of the joys of getting a bit older is the capacity to listen to others with a gratitude for the wisdom they impart. The years begin to mellow and we do, too. The years have taught us tenderness and flexibility and the need to give way sometimes; sometimes to the hard knocks of disappointment, occasionally to the bright boundless thinking and optimism of new notions. We acknowledge we know some things, while other things are still to be prised open. We begin to understand the existential ache and the yearning we have always had to find a purpose for our days, rather than simply filling them in with distraction and diversion.

Recently, I had the pleasure of listening to the warmth, wit and wisdom of Melbourne writer and Caritas Mission facilitator, Michael McGirr, a man of words and his word. Briefly we lamented the loss of Meanjin and the opportunity writers have to exercise their talent and make their work a little more visible to the reading public. In a world where the weaponising of words seems ever more polarising, we need words of connection, not division, words that create communion.

Michael spoke to us about three things that can help us keep going when the skies darken. Naturally, all is framed by faith and the desire to live in accordance with the gospel values that are written on our hearts. Even so, we are messily human and our good intentions do not always come to fruition. I know that I can have bouts of procrastination and then compensatory surges of activity. Sometimes my time is used well and occasionally it is frittered away. In speaking to us, Michael went straight to the heart of things, the heart of who we are in our everyday garb, getting along as best we can.

Michael reminded us through laughter and story that there is always light in the dark, that the darkest hour is just before dawn. He spoke of Holocaust survivor Jacob Rosenberg who in 1948 at the GPO in Melbourne saw the Nazi officer who had killed his family at Auschwitz. Instead of reacting furiously, Jacob took the measure of his own soul and decided to let recent history go, to avoid confrontation, to allow himself to grow away from the poison of the recent past. He saw the dark again in seeing that man but reached for the light in himself to keep going, to emerge into a new life here where he and his new family thrived.

Michael then reminded us of the importance of letting go and, conversely, holding on.

Letting go can be hard. Sometimes we identify with certain views and values and as we grow and change, they no longer fit who we have become. This letting go may be shedding or unburdening, a liberation from the stranglehold of things that have tied us up in knots. We set our hearts and minds free and the soul delights. There is a saying, Let Go and Let God. There is great comfort in knowing that God is with us, even when we do not quite know what we are seeking.

Much as we let go, we also know that there are some things that we hold onto forever. The holy holding patterns of our lives, the patterns that provide us with balance and buoyancy when times are tough and the future unclear. For us, faith is what gets us through, even when there are times of fog and fear, and the clash of opinion in the public square seems to undermine all that we treasure in community. This is why I believe in the power of prayer, both individual and communal. People who pray are not perfect by any means, but in prayer, we turn our hearts to God in love of neighbour and stranger, in hope for this beautiful world, praying for peace and justice and wise leadership.

The Benedictine nun, Joan Chittister, also reminds us to do three things a day: something for the heart, something for the mind and something for the soul – a perfect trinity of endeavour.

As we continue through the Season of Creation, let us think about the spring-cleaning of our hearts, getting rid of things that fester and pester, looking instead for those moments of glad grace. 

We can continue to look to the light, let go and hold on, as Michael suggests, adopting changed habits of mind. We can reignite our daily efforts in small ways, kindling a new expansiveness in the way we treat each other. 

Recently, Pope Leo XIV in his homily at the Jubilee of Youth Mass (August 3) reminded the future faithful.

There is a burning question in our hearts, a need for truth that we cannot ignore, which leads us to ask ourselves: what is true happiness? What is the true meaning of life? What can free us from being trapped in meaninglessness, boredom and mediocrity?   

The pontiff’s response is a reminder that wherever we are on the faith continuum, at whatever age or stage, there are some inalienable truths which are the cornerstone of our belief.

Through all this, you can grasp an important point: the fullness of our existence does not depend on what we store up or, as we heard in the Gospel, on what we possess (cf. Lk 12:13-21). Rather, fullness has to do with what we joyfully welcome and share (cf. Mt 10:8-10; Jn 6:1-13). Buying, hoarding and consuming are not enough. We need to lift our eyes, to look upwards, to the “things that are above” (Col 3:2), to realize that everything in the world has meaning only insofar as it serves to unite us to God and to our brothers and sisters in charity, helping us to grow in “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness and patience” (Col 3:12), forgiveness (cf. ibid., v. 13) and peace (cf. Jn 14:27), all in imitation of Christ (cf. Phil 2:5). And in this way we will grow in an ever deeper understanding of what it means that hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us (cf. Rom 5:5).

Hope does not disappoint. This is what our wise men and women of the faith remind us of in the way they use their words with gentleness and love, words that can unite and uplift, words that turn into actions for good, words that spread the light of God’s love for all of us.

By Ann Rennie