“If what I say resonates with you, it’s merely because we are both branches on the same tree.”
W. B. Yeats
There are many times when I read someone else’s words or hear their story and something opens up in my chest. I feel an ‘ah-ha’ grow within me. It is as if something has been dormant and has come to life, quickly and with a certain purpose. Someone else’s turn of a phrase or personal insight allows a creaky door in my own inner life to swing open and I feel as if I have found something that has been lost to me. Until now. Until now.
In doing some reading last week, I came across this statement of W.B. Yeats and realized he was speaking of this very kind of experience. This resonating can come from an experience with someone we know well or a complete stranger. It can come from something we read or see, a film or television show in which we feel a pull toward a particular character. It can come from the words of someone we really like a lot and also, strangely enough, from someone who gets under our skin and makes us crazy.
Of course, we all want to be ‘branches of the same tree’ with those we really admire, those who inspire us with their wisdom. But one of the things I have been thinking about lately is how I am a branch on the same tree with those others folks, the ones who annoy me, those with whom I disagree, sometimes wildly so. This kind of resonating is not about agreement but about the other doors that are flung open within, those that allow us to see parts of ourselves that are less than pretty, less than kind, less than the wise one we hope we are projecting to the world. These are the folks whose presence creates a resonance within that can teach us something about ourselves that we may need to learn but wanted to keep the door shut on. Sometimes we know this. Sometimes we don’t.
Those of us who spend our time trudging through the scriptures each week have the opportunity to reflect on and argue with some of the characters that have given story-life to our faith tradition. These people, all brilliantly flawed in their own ways, are part of this ancestral tree we were either born to or chose. We are drawn to the stories of each for particular reasons and for particular times in our lives. The hope of those of us who plan worship is that something in the words or life of a particular character will resonate with the life experience of those who sit in the pew. The hope is that someone, certainly not everyone, will find wisdom to carry into the week from the life tentative call of Moses or the bold ‘Yes’ of Mary. This is, at least for me, one of the ways in which these ancient texts become the living word of God. Sometimes it happens. Sometime it doesn’t. We live and work in hope!
One of the things that keeps me going each day, that keeps me heading into difficult conversations, that keeps me awake to this precious walk of life, is the deep belief that we are all branches of the same tree. All of us. Those like me and those who appear very different. Those with whom I agree and those whose lens upon the world has created words and phrases on their lips that make me cringe. It is often a difficult task this being human but this belief that we share a family tree helps keep me honest in my dealings with my fellow branches. Some days I am better at it than others.
It is a another cold day in Minnesota. As I look around the map, that same frigid air is connecting us with others around the country. It would be easy, and natural,to pull up the hoods on our costs and allow our shoulders to cover our ears as our faces stare down at the icy ground. But we are traveling this path with those who are meant to be our teachers and we would be wise to look up every now and then. Look up and listen. For the word or phrase that just might open a long closed door within us. A door that might mean all the difference in the world for the day. Or the week. Or the next year.
Our family tree is calling to us.
