He will send out the angels
and gather his elect from the four winds,
from the end of the earth to the end of the
sky.
Out here on the plains of Texas, the ubiquitous
tumble weed
might soon loose its iconic status.
Or, at least tumble aside far enough to share
it with rows of wind turbines
sprouting like metallic flowers across the
prairie.
In this part of the country, both weeds and
people pay attention to the wind.
Folks will tell you that it’s a calm day…
when you’re not leaning.
Like Eskimos with their multiple designations
for types of snow,
for
generations, Westerns have judged the weather
by the feel and direction of the wind.
Now, add to that population a new group of
workers who tend the wind turbines.
They’ll tell you that winds blowing nine miles
an hour
begin to create energy.
but winds blowing more than 45 miles an hour
will shut down the turbines for the sake of
self-protection.
Their insight helps us understand the variance
in velocity
blowing across today’s turbulent gospel
passage.
The dramatic scene opens with angels riding
gusts of wind across starless skies,
supernatural first responders swooping down to
rescue the chosen of God
off rooftops and canyon ledges.
Then, without warning, a sudden calm.
The ominous prospect of devastating winds
is,
for time being, tempered:
But of that day or hour, no one know.
Neither the angels in heaven,
nor the Son, but only the Father.
How do we respond to the whirlwind of thoughts
stirred up by passages like the one we’re given
today?
The theologian Fr. John Kavanaugh comes to our
aid
with an astute observation.
He writes that this text might not be so much a
warning about the end of the world
as it is a commentary on living in it.
In other words,
like dry-land farmers on a windswept plain,
the chosen of God dwell in a world alternately
sunny and dark.
The lesson is clear:
our adherence to Christ must remain constant
despite the climatic conditions.
Family arguments and family reunions.
Social crises and social progress.
Economic recessions and creative productivity.
Also, like those workers tending wind turbines
high above the ground,
the chosen have received sufficient instruction
to judge the signs of the times.
We know what sort of breezes
produce lives energized with grace.
And we know when to hunker down
—and scan the sky for angels—
if the wind gusts too strong.
___________________
References:
“This Land” by Dan Barry, The New York
Times, August 4, 2008.
The Word Encountered: Meditations on the Sunday
Scriptures by John Kavanaugh, Orbis
Books, Maryknoll, New York (1996), pp. 116-119.
© 2009 Fr. Jim
Schmitmeyer