March lived up to its billing on its first day. Around noon a snowstorm roared into Toronto falling hard and fast. The city ground to a stop. My usual 22-minute commute home took about a hundred minutes. I got off easy — many many others were stuck for hours.
Also that week there was a gas shortage in the city — prices were over a dollar per litre, if you could find a station that still had gasoline. There were editorials saying the government should intervene. On the day of the storm many cars ran out of gas.
Weather, government, multinationals: It was easy to feel we were all little pieces on somebody else's game board. The next two weeks were hard, with temperatures dropping to 20-below and lower; gas prices were still high; the government still didn't intervene (what could it do?). Despondency settled on the city.
Then suddenly on March 13 the temperature shot up to 14C. Birds could be heard. Sure gas was still over a buck — but it'd been that expensive before, then it had dropped 20 cents. Life on goes. There's birds in the sky, spring is around the corner. You know: it's Canada, it's winter, it's gonna get cold. But spring is here.
Both hope and despondency require careful ignorance of obvious facts. We have to choose: The sun rises everyday, average lifespan has increased dramatically, major diseases have been eradicated, the middle class grows bigger around the planet. So, the world is good. No?
No! The ozone hole and industrial pollutants mean the sun may not shine much longer, AIDS and other pandemics are wreaking their damage, the gap between the rich and poor grows larger.
So, which one is it? Well, what if all the statements are true: there is greater wealth distribution and the very rich are getting very much richer. New pandemics sweep across the planet, while old ones are permanently controlled.
Either way, God is in His heavens and because He is, we do not need to force our understanding of the world into binary choices of either hope or despondency. We do not need ideological parentheses to focus our thoughts. We have that: we have the Word, the gospels, which compel us to give thanks all the while we act out our mission. And the curious thing is, that we, the Good News people, rarely indulge in good news (either lower case or upper).
There are a few stories this month of individuals who have chosen to act the mission, despite the cost to their career or life, because they are compelled to do so. Your givings support each of them. They do wonderful things, in horrible situations, because they have no other choice. That's the price for their faith.
Or take the case of our front inside cover this month: Arch Brown, a member of St. Andrew's, Barrie, Ont., wanted to celebrate his 50th wedding anniversary with Helen in a special way. He got in touch with the sculpture artist Donald Stuart to commission a work of art. Stuart got the congregation of St. Andrew's involved. What started as a personal memento became a communal act; what started with human love became testimony to the greatest love. It may not change the world — then again, it might, you never know, stranger things have happened — but it has brought joy to many. And that's something, isn't it? And God in His heavens too may have smiled. If ever briefly. And that's something. I'm sure it is.
Oh, and, a few days after that March thaw it snowed again, got cold again. But, it didn't matter. We had tasted spring. The despondency had lifted. If only for a little while.
This is my last at-bat in lead off. I happily return to my more modest position further down the roster. It's been fun but I look forward to David Harris' return.
