There’s been an odd things going on in our house for the past few months. OK, I realize that was one of those, what do you call them, duh kind of statements. I mean who hasn’t been having an odd thing going on in their houses these past few months? It’s a pandemic for Pete’s sake! Odd things are de rigeur. And who is Pete anyway? And what does de rigeur mean, for Pete’s sa...
Pete, say some of the researchers of language and idioms (no, not idiots, that’s a different field of inquiry all together), might actually have referred to St. Peter the sort of head of the merry band of apostles. It was another attempt to be able to swear without actually “taking the Lord’s name in vain,” because someone frowned on that. (See Exodus 20 for the full frowning list.) So, they invented words that were close, “gosh darn” for example. Well Pete was close to Christ, so we started saying for Pete’s sake.
De rigeur is French that leaked over into English and it means “required by etiquette or current fashion.” Which means, by the way, that political correctness isn’t new. And the French started it. So there.
Where was I? Oh, yes, the odd thing. In addition to all the pandemically inspired odd things happening in our house and yours, we have a different odd thing. Or maybe different, I don’t know. Maybe this thing is happening everywhere. Maybe you have this thing too, and will nod along knowingly as I tell you of this odd thing. Which means it isn’t an odd thing after all. I mean, if it is happening to you, and everyone else, it can’t be odd, can it? Can an odd thing be universally odd? But then, since it involves our dog, Nick, the three legged rescue terrier mix of doubtful parentage, then perhaps it is still odd.
And what is this odd thing you ask, hoping that I’ll get to the point however odd it might be? Well, the odd thing is Nick seems to know what time it is. Even when we forget. Although, to be honest, daylight savings time threw him off a bit. Not only does he know what time it is, he knows what we should be doing at what time. Which, frankly is how we became aware that he knew what time it was. He isn’t able to say to us, hey did you realize it is 4:45 in the afternoon? No, he doesn’t give us time checks, nor does he bark out the number of the hour on the hour. That’s not happening. Though, I confess, that would be odd.
No, here’s what happens. He gets restless, he whines and fusses and is unable to settle. That’s not new, he’s done that before. Like when he has to go out, or needs to chase a squirrel or bark at a cat. Except, we kept discovering that those weren’t the things he was upset about. He would fuss, but wouldn’t go out when we got his leash. Or run to the window and bark. He was obviously trying to get us to do something, but we sometimes has trouble figuring out what that something was.
After a while it dawned on us that he had figured out our schedule. There were certain things that happened at certain times. We got up at this time, we did his morning walk, his morning pill (he has arthritis in his hip, maybe both, can’t really tell since he only has one back leg), then we did breakfast, and went to work. I had the long commute upstairs to my home office, La Donna sat at her desk in the family room. Then we had coffee break, later was lunch, then afternoon tea, then end of work day and then dinner and then evening pill and then reading or TV in our chairs. It was a routine. He figured it out. And if we got off track, or forgot something, or did something out of order, or took too long to do something, he fussed. If La Donna went to her computer in the evening instead of her easy chair, he fussed. If we forgot his pill, or if daylight savings time made him think we forgot his evening pill, he fussed. It was weird. He’s not a herd dog, but it is like he was trying to keep our lives on track. Follow the schedule people! For heaven’s sake! Or Pete’s. Or Nick’s. He’s doing his best to make sure we have a routine. And heaven forfend if we skip a meal or worse yet, eat in front of the TV. Unless it’s popcorn, because he loves popcorn. And how in the world he knows it’s Sunday and should be time for popcorn, I have no earthly idea. Except maybe virtual church in the morning followed by hours of football in the afternoon, might be a clue.
We sometimes complain about a routine. And yet all of us are a bit lost without something consistent in our lives. We know who we are by what we do, at least in part. Sure, it is bigger than that. We are bigger than that. There is something of essence about us, we are who we are because of our creation, because God made us and claimed us. No question. Yet, our living comes alive in our doing, in our routines. The patterns we create in our lives give texture and rhythm to who we are and how we encounter the world.
Ritual is the theological word for routine. We do these things in this way, again and again, and we encounter God in our ritual. We become aware of God’s presence as we commune and kneel and pray or sing and gather. We fill up our lives with doing of holy things. And a sacramental approach to life says that anything can be a holy thing if we’re paying attention. Any action, or routine, can be full of God’s presence, with the breath of the Spirit if we stay in tune with that, if we set our minds on the things above. And the things above doesn’t mean we think of heaven up above, but of the things that lift us up rather than pull us down. We think of higher things, of service, or caring, of love. And when we ask how do my routines speak of love or any of these things, that’s how we grow in our faith. That is how we make the most of the time.
Colossians 4:2-6 Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving. 3 At the same time pray for us as well that God will open to us a door for the word, that we may declare the mystery of Christ, for which I am in prison, 4 so that I may reveal it clearly, as I should. 5 Conduct yourselves wisely toward outsiders, making the most of the time. 6 Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer everyone.
Another of Paul’s lists. A list is another routine, of a sort. It is a way of shaping our lives as though who we are and what we do matters. This is, Paul says, making the most of the time. One of the hardships of the pandemic is that our routines are shattered. And some might even lose their way in the midst of it, or lose themselves in the process. Finding ways to make the most of the time is one of the techniques we have of keeping ourselves sane during the pandemic. But maybe there is more to it than our sanity, as important as that is. Maybe there is something of faith there. Maybe even the simple things of our daily existence, our daily routines can be alive with the Spirit of the living Christ.
Which is how we get to gratitude. This is Thanksgiving week here in the US. Many are missing the routines and rituals of that festive day, many are facing being alone, families scattered and apart. A zoom chat Thanksgiving doesn’t sound all that great. But then staying healthy does. Gratitude can still be the core of our living in this un-routine holiday. If we live alive to the moment, if we remember who we are and whose we are, then gratitude flows like a stream through all our routines. And turns routines into rituals of grace.
Nick is trying his best to keep us on track with our lives. He sometimes strains with the effort and we haven’t given him the respect that is due his most difficult task. But in this strange time we are learning even more to be thankful. For the family that we are, human and furry both. For grown up kids making their way despite setbacks and roadblocks. For the beauty of a new place and work that sustains us both. For life and health and hope and for joy. And for friends near and far. All of whom we wish the happiest of Thanksgivings and the blessedness of routine.
Shalom, Derek
