12/02/2024 BONUS POST – “The nicest thing about the rain is that it always stops. Eventually” (Eeyore)

I was afflicted with an earworm on Tuesday: not a song, but a limerick:

“The rain it raineth on the just. And also on the unjust feller. But, mostly, it raineth on the just, ‘Cause the unjust has stolen the just’s umbrella.”

Then, on Wednesday, Matthew 5, 43-45 pinged into my inbox, the “Verse of the Day” from https://www.biblegateway.com/. That’s the bit of the Sermon on the Mount about loving your enemy, but, specifically, verse 45 says:

“…He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”

Then, on Sunday, Rev. Sheena suggested we select a phrase for Lent, “to be a companion on your journey”. It’s fair to say that Matthew 5:45 has chosen me.

And why not? All regular hikers know that rain is a frequent companion. I have my pull-on waterproofs already packed in my rucksack, together with a raincover for said rucksack, and a pair of dry socks, stowed in a waterproof ziplock.

The Knox Book Club studied “Speaking Christian” by Marcus J. Borg in 2022. We learned that the Biblical word for “righteousness” (doing the right thing) is often best translated as “justice”. It is an unambiguously positive word, that does not mean “judgmental”, nor a holier-than-though smugness, nor the threat of punishment. It is a way of living into the redistributive righting of wrongs, personal and societal. I enjoy that the limerick “gets” this, and the NIV does not.

In that chapter, Borg asks the questions: “What is “just”? What is “fair”?” I think of the parable of the vineyard workers; of the Prodigal Son; of the 10 virgins with their lamps and I wrestle with the knowledge that “fair” in the context of God is something other than feels “natural” to me. That’s the problem with being human, I guess.

Also, let’s talk about rain. In Alberta, we know all about spring fires after a dry winter. In Kenya we learned that rain is propitious. A new year, a project with early rain is blessed. I have written many poems on water, even though I am an air sign. Its presence, meanings, forms fascinate me. To be human is to be 70% water.

At Jacob’s Well

I am dust.
With a drop of water,
I am made clay.
I may be a cup,
to hold the water
by which I am given form,
to offer a drink to someone else.

Epiphany 2021

Rain on the lakeshore.

He permeates.
He swells.
He rots.

He dissolves.

He softens.

He slakes.

(Both from “A Study in Entropy” from Small Stations Press. https://www.smallstations.com/)

I’ve been reflecting on Matthew 5:45 for only a day (or, maybe, for most of my adult life?). My head is spinning either way. It feels like a fertile choice.

Supertrip now has a totem, a poster and a Biblical quotation. Fortunately, none of them weigh much.