My Little Patch of Shade

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, October 15th, 2023:
Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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​Philippians
​4.12-14, 19-20

Brothers and sisters: I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. In any case, it was kind of you to share my distress.

My God will fully satisfy every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty.

This doesn’t sound like a self-help mantra, but Saint Paul’s “secret” needs to get around.

“The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21) is a counter-cultural mantra. The trouble is, we humans are programmed not to think about things being taken away from us until they are. Then we’re upset because we weren’t prepared for it. And then we get mad. 

It’s probably horribly irreverent of me, but I always get a giggle out of God’s exchange with Jonah in Chapter 4 of the Book of Jonah. Jonah is in a huff with God, and so he goes out to build himself a little tent. God grows a bush above him to give him shade. Jonah is “very happy about the bush.” Then He sends worms that destroy the bush. And Jonah is cheesed.

God: “Is it right for you to be angry about the bush?” 

Jonah (crossing his arms and sulking — or at least in my mind): “Yes, angry enough to die.” 

Jonah had immediately felt deserving of the bush, took it for granted, and then cried foul play when he lost it. How relatable!

I know gratitude journals are in vogue, but they’ve never helped me. What does help me, makes me sound like Eeyore or Puddleglum. What helps me is to pause, during good times and bad, and think, “This won’t last. I am grateful.” 

This is comforting in hard times, of course. It’s a special grace to be able to realize, in our trials, that one day we’ll reflect back on this very moment and go, “That taught me gratitude.” I had that grace this year after I injured my hip enough to make walking agony for a few weeks. I sat on the bus and thought, “Down the road when I’m riding the bus and don’t need the accessible seat, I will remember these times when I do need the accessible seat.” And mindful-me was right – I do remember them, every time.

But this practice is much less comfortable in the good times. It means looking at your bank account and thinking, “What if, someday, these savings weren’t here?” It’s remembering that your favourite coworker might switch jobs, that your best friend might move, that your favourite product might be discontinued or your favourite restaurant (or sadly, your church) close for good. Hardest of all, it means looking around the dinner table and thinking, “There might be an empty seat next Christmas.”

This is not the practice of an Eeyore. This is the secret to joy! 

We remember to bless the Lord for our littles and our plenties. We remember that He gives, and that He takes away, for our sanctification. And, when we do, the shade of our happy-bushes can never be taken away.

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​Kate Mosher

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