Teaching Me A Lot About Love

February 28, 2023

Isaiah 55:6–11Psalm 34:15–22  |  Matthew 6:7–15

Sheep: I’ve long not been fond of biblical references to those feeble-minded and easily-led-astray animals.  The Good Shepherd’s sheep, I’m told, love and are loved – especially those who go astray.  But what happens when a “faithful” (i.e., largely “morally coerced”) grown child and parishioner has rarely experienced good shepherding?

Still, two recent experiences as a member of St. Luke’s community have led me to sense that, as a sheep, I’ve long blind-sided myself:

  1. Our Adult Formation’s Zoom study of lectio divina – for me: how reading Scripture open-mindedly and personally can become prayer – and
  2. This blog’s opportunity to encounter anew today’s near-Golden-Oldies readings from the prophet Isaiah and then from St. Matthew’s gospel.

Isaiah’s words indeed sustained me through the pandemic and sudden widowhood.  But rereading them now makes me realize that my own peevishly parochial short-sightedness has long led me astray, and I ought to hang in there:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
        Nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord . . . .
[Like rain, my word] shall accomplish that which I purpose,
        And succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus then teaches me first – given my sprouting faith – why I need to pray: not despite but because “your Father knows what you need before you ask him.”  Staying in touch is the least I can do.   

Then Christ suggests how I might best converse with our Father, i.e., with familiarity, respect, and trust:

Pray then this way:
        Our Father in heaven [a.k.a. “Abba”],
        Hallowed [holy and honored] be your name.
        Your kingdom come.  [That’s no prediction but a here-and-now, so here’s how:]
        Your will be done,
                On earth as it is in heaven.

That’s a tall order.  So here in three brief sentences is the help I need in order to want to do God’s will so that his kingdom comes here today: sustenance, a fair shake, and safety – perhaps, in a word, mercy:

Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
        as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And do not bring us to the time of trial,
        but rescue us from the evil one.

Sheep, I suspect, are lately teaching me a lot about love.

Marie Hennedy