Keeping Watch - Philip Berrigan

When this guy mentioned in the first paragraph that "Georgia winters are damp and cold," I knew we were going to get along.  For the most part cold is relative, but when you are out in it for hours on end, it becomes less so.  Cold is cold.  Throw in a heavy dose of "damp" and you've described our Appalachian Trail hike to a T.  After trekking down the mountain to Hiawassee in the rain, I could relate quite well to Berrigan's image of the grueling night of keeping watch, ever waiting for it to end.

The distinction between watching and waiting is the lesson I need to learn, however.  Waiting feels like my full time job - I'm always hoping to do it with more grace, always reminding myself that it's worth it (I even blogged about it for Advent).  But watching is a more active command, and a more cerebral one.  What can be learned from the world around me while I stand here and wait?  What warmth can I discover (or create) in this night to make it less bitingly cold?  Many of the things on Berrigan's list of things to watch made me smile - watch nuclearism, watch war, watch refugees, watch corporations - "become a student of systemic evil."  Check!  Anyone who follows my Facebook knows that I love to rant about all kinds of systemic evil.  Perhaps it is one of my spiritual gifts.  It's the other kind of watching I need to work on though:

Watch the words of others, since God often speaks to us through sisters and brothers.  Watch for conformity between words and deeds, and when the two are the same, watch only their deeds.  Watch for heroic women and men who give their lives tending victims - the bombed, starved, raped, tortured - and to exposing the victimizers from within prison and without.  Watch the hope that they give you by the speech of their lives, and then dare to extend hope to others. (73)

I need to reopen my eyes to hope.  Once upon a time, I was an optimist.  I need to look hard for the heroes, and the success stories, and the beautiful moments.  And yes, I mean look hard, because these are not the front page stories.  They're not always as fun to share as a quality Facebook rant, either.  But I do know they are more fun to hear, and I know it is these things around which I want to shape my life, not their negative counterparts.  My task for this Lent is to keep my eyes peeled for evidence of Christ in the world - evidence that we are not alone and that this story has a happy ending.  The Master may return at any moment, and when he comes, I don't want to be too caught up in my criticisms of coal-fired power plants and Republican budget bills that I don't notice the Healer has already arrived.