Beloved Friends,
The woods are showing the first signs of Unlocking, and unlocking is always a sign of hope.
God knows we need hope right now. Not the lazy, wishful-thinking kind of hope, like “I hope everyone can just get along today,” but the rigorous kind of hope that is half prayer and half work. Real hope doesn’t come easy.
I learned about Unlocking in college, from my freshman English professor, Noel Perrin. Unlike Paradise Lost and the other great works of literature we read (none of which I recall), Unlocking stuck.
Unlocking, you see, is not about literature at all. It’s about the woods.
Prof. Perrin taught, not in class but in another conversation, that in rural New England there are actually six seasons to the year, not just four as traditional teaching has it. There is Spring, Summer, Fall, Locking, Winter, and Unlocking.
Unlocking began this past week, with a warm spell and heavy rain. As a lover of winter outdoors, I don’t rejoice when Unlocking comes. Weeks of back and forth ensue as the gods of Winter and Spring struggle for dominance. The eternal dance continues, round and round.
After the thaw, everything refroze. With snowshoes, one can practically float atop the crusty snow. I floated through the woods the other day, looking for Unlocking.
I headed for the brook, because that is where Unlocking begins. As frozen snow turns liquid, it begins to flow. As the water flows, it undermines the remaining blanket of snow above, and soon a patch of stream is visible. Patches of snow remain in the woods usually into early April, so there’s a whole lot of melting yet to go.
Mud season is unlocking, too. As frozen ground thaws, it turns to dirt soup. Unlocking can be messy.
Watching the woods unlock has me wondering about other kinds of unlocking. In the Christian calendar, this past Wednesday marked the beginning of the season of Lent with the ritual of marking a cross on our foreheads. “From dust ye came, and to dust ye shall return.” Made of Earth and returning to Earth, we are mortal beings. The inevitable price of life is death.
The ritual of ashes with these simple, powerful words reminding us of our impending deaths are a kind of unlocking. We hold so tightly to this life, and to the ways we want and expect life to be. Unlocking may help us loosen our grip, so we can be where we actually are — in these fallible mortal bodies, these fallible human communities.
I am musing also what the ritual of unlocking might have to say about this moment in time, and in particular in the time of this nation. We seem to be frozen in a dis-ability to govern ourselves, to understand each other, to live with compassion for people we do not like or agree with. I do not except myself.
My confidence in the collective wisdom of our country is being sorely tested. I have long felt there is a deep common sense in most of America, a common sense rooted in the landscape. I want to still believe that, but my confidence is shaken. My faith is being tested.
Which leads me to wonder, where do I place my faith? In whom and what do I trust? The founders of our nation were extraordinarily aware of the imperfections, weaknesses, and temptations that face us all, especially those who are given — or seize — wealth and power.
Unlocking may ask us to place our Trust in something greater than merely humans, for in our weakness and mortality we humans always fall short.
There is Wisdom greater than human wisdom, Power greater than human power. I pray our hearts may be unlocked that we remember that Deeper Trust and there put our faith. “Unlock our hearts, and give us the humility that comes from being close to the ground.”
with love,
Stephen
P. S. I commend to you the wisdom of the Psalms, which people have been praying for thousands of years. Read this aloud; you will understand. This is not our first rodeo — the dance goes on and on.
Psalm 146 Lauda, anima mea
1 Hallelujah! Praise the Lord, O my soul! * I will praise the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praises to my God while I have my being. 2 Put not your trust in rulers, nor in any child of earth, * for there is no help in them. 3 When they breathe their last, they return to earth, * and in that day their thoughts perish. 4 Happy are they who have the God of Jacob for their help! * whose hope is in the Lord their God; 5 Who made heaven and earth, the seas, and all that is in them; * who keeps his promise for ever; 6 Who gives justice to those who are oppressed, * and food to those who hunger. 7 The Lord sets the prisoners free; the Lord opens the eyes of the blind; * the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down; 8 The Lord loves the righteous; the Lord cares for the stranger; * he sustains the orphan and widow, but frustrates the way of the wicked. 9 The Lord shall reign for ever, * your God, O Zion, throughout all generations. Hallelujah!
