To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
These words from Ecclesiastes, made familiar by the Byrd’s, Bob Dylan and other folk heroes, have been echoing in my mind for several days. I recognize them as accurate and true. They also feel prophetic.
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
There is a generational turning, perhaps even an epochal turning, occurring in our lifetimes. Perhaps that is overly dramatic. Surely, other generations have felt the weight of history and hope for the future bearing down on their decisions and indecision. At this time, it is clear that the breaking down and the building up are happening simultaneously, along with the killing, healing, weeping, laughing, mourning and dancing. This emotional outpouring is overwhelming. To what can we give our energy and attention?
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
We can sort the stones, cast away those that no longer serve us and gather close those that nourish, nurture, and heal. We cannot embrace but we can refrain from embracing with all the love in our hearts. We can care for our communities, near and distant, by safe-guarding physical, emotional, and spiritual health.
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
We can use our money, our vote, our privilege, and our words to name the injustices we see and to advocate for a prosperous present and future for all beings. In silent presence, we can heal the broken human heart and hold space for the earth’s healing power to flourish. With every turn, we can stitch together the frayed edges and reclaim our wholeness and belonging to All That Is.
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
A time of peace, I swear it’s not too late… Listen to this beautiful rendition from Judy Collins and Pete Seeger and allow the seed of possibility to find fertile soil within you.