Though I was not born there, I have spent a lot of my
time in the South. I was in New Orleans
by age seven, lived in Alabama from the time I was nine, and went to college in
Virginia (never mind that Alabamans considered that “up north”) and remained in
that fair Commonwealth until going to seminary.
After one year in Baltimore, I spent five years in Rome, which is
decidedly the South – just the south of a different continent. Even here in Maryland we are well south of
the Mason-Dixon line, though some days I get edgy about being on this side of
the Potomac. More time in Rome has
broken up even that.
One common observation about Southerners is that they
do everything slower. Though this is
often cited pejoratively, I think the great wisdom of that has been revealed in
these recent days of heat. Especially
when the power was out and not a breath of chill was to be found, we all
learned that speed and motion only increase the heat, and the sweat, and the
discomfort. So why rush?
Without the God-like power of a thermostat, we become
more attentive to the little gifts as we can find them: a wisp of a breeze, a
patch of shade, a splashing fountain. A
shaded bench on which to sit, with a light breeze coming off the ocean, the lake,
or even the nearby fountain, is delight itself.
Having found that spot, who would be in a hurry?
Now, I do admit that one of the things I do in the
summer is work around the house. Without
the frenetic level of phones bleating and doorbells ringing, classes to teach
and meetings to meet, the rectory is little more like a home and less like a
train station, so summer is when I rearrange, clean out, sort, discard,
reconsider and re-purpose. Thanks to the
marvel of climate control, I can pretend that I am in some brisk, labor-encouraging
northern clime.
No doubt you have similar summer projects. But really, I think most of you are with me
when I say I like to use the summer time to move a little slower, be less
rushed, and soak in the good things that the season brings, whether that be
beach time or fresh peaches. All the
best bits of summer come when we stop hurrying.
If you find yourself nodding, your inner Southerner’s slow grin is
showing.
Please allow me to add to the list one more “slow”
summer sweetness to savor: prayer.
Churches and chapels have a well-earned reputation for being cool, and
even dimly lit: just what you are seeking.
Ours even has a new compressor for the air conditioner – instant cool
breeze! There are plenty of places to
sit, and no rush to move on. Churches everywhere
– downtown and at the beach, in the mountains and along the roads -- are open,
and the tabernacle holds the One who is so eager for some slow time with you. We all know which place is associated with fire
and unrelenting heat, so to peer into the face of Him who reigns in Heaven must
be cool!
Next Sunday evening we have Adoration in the church from
six to ten. Come then, or anytime, to
escape the heat of the day; cool off with the fresh breeze of the One who makes
all things new. You have no fear of skin
damage from the Sun that Never Sets, Jesus Christ. Experience the warmth that does not increase
the heat. Learn the wisdom of the South:
This summer, slow down – and pray.
Monsignor Smith
