Falling into gray …

Winter weather in the Willamette Valley promotes sobering moments of reflection. Back to back atmospheric rivers crashing over their banks into the Pacific Northwest turn the sky and ground into indistinguishable horizons sealed together with fog and unending drizzle. It’s like the weather god died, rolled over and began decomposing. The stagnant air is trapped, and the smell of wet fur permeates the towels, rug and crate. It’s a stinky, rotten mess.

This particular Sunday in December, I feel the weight of the oppressive weather more acutely. Janet left for a for a visit to Walla Walla this morning, and both Petey and I miss her presence. The canine longing for a missing loved one is a palpable force. I tuned into the worship service at the United Church of Christ in Cedar HIlls, OR to hear my brother nee Don Shrumm preach on his second Sunday as Interim Pastor. He spoke clearly with prophetic voice on the apocalyptic text from Mark chapter 10 (surprisingly, even ironically, this is the reading on the first Sunday of Advent) that the end is nigh and unavoidable. After the UCC service, I switched channels on YouTube and listened to the Friday evening Shabbat service devar from my Rabbi at Temple Beth Israel. She delved into the Rape of Dina in Genesis chapter 34, challenging her hearers to see Dina as a metaphor for both the Israeli hostages and Palestinian prisoners who have been torn from their families and love ones. What is the proper response to this dark and foggy situation (Jacob’s sons Levi and Simeon killed all the male adults in Shechem)? I learned from a dear friend that his Labradoodle, Mister, of more than a decade had to be put down this morning. Ever experience the feeling of emptiness and the temporary loss of your ability to see any kind of future happiness? The end stalks us all, dropping daily reminders that we don’t know, that we can’t solve the problems, nor protect people we love and ourselves from grief and loss.

This should be the paragraph where I dismantle all the doom and gloom of what I’ve written above, and I wish I could do that. But, the weather outside reminds me that it is certainly not all about blue, sunny skies. Ends of all kinds come at us everyday. There is undeniable darkness, pain and grief out there, and it is impossible to avoid a long, deep drink. Days like today test my willingness to think that it is all worth it … whatever “it” happens to be. With the unanswered question from Levi and Simeon ringing in our ears–“Should our sister be treated like a whore?–we can only trudge forward seemingly bereft of answers, wondering what hope might still be possible when the ends pile up and down.

This morning the talented music leader at UCC played and sang the famous words attributed to the prophet Isaiah and set to music by George Frideric Handel. This ancient text from the Jewish scriptures captured my attention and resonated with me throughout this day of contemplating ends:

The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined. (Isaiah 9:2)

The apocalyptic end has a purpose as Don pointed out. It points us to Advent and Hannukah where light appears as if at the end of the dark tunnel. Coldplay famously sang that lights will lead you home. Whether it’s to navigate the foggy Willamette Valley or illuminate the darkness “in the land of the shadow of death,” the light keeps us going and offers a bit of hope.