There’s a runt of a tree at the border between the Yukon Territory and Alaska.
You wouldn’t be tempted to bring it home for Christmas: Its upper branches in particular lack anything resembling evergreen bounty. But the thing kinda grows on you, especially once you learn it’s probably hundreds of years old. Aboreal nature treads cautiously in these rugged northern climes, it seems, advancing mere millimeters a year—an integral part of a survival strategy mapped out over the eons.
Gazing upon its scruffy upper reaches, you begin to wonder what scenes this venerable tree has witnessed—notably the Klondike Gold Rush that in 1897 turned into a death march for more than 3,000 pack animals on the White Pass Trail running nearby. “What’s in their hearts?” the tree must have wondered as it contemplated the many irrational, ill-prepared acts attempted by headstrong prospectors in the Gold Rush days.
And what’s in our hearts today? Would the scruffy evergreen find appreciably less greed, less hunger, less self-indulgence in those of us who find other means of traipsing up and down the mountain pass in 2024?
I wonder about this…because of a specific Alaskan annoyance that still sticks in my craw just a bit: Two different times during our recent trip, I found myself assigned to backward-facing seats on sight-seeing trains. Which is to say, I spent a fair amount of time listening to more-fortunate travelers “ooo” and “aahhh” as they gazed upon some natural spectacle they spied just ahead.
It’s not like I missed the spectacle entirely. I merely had to wait a bit, while trying to manage a recurrent crick in my neck. Definitely a first-world problem, as I spend time looking back on all the beauty and bounty I was given during those glorious sight-seeing days.
And there’s even more reason for gratitude to settle into my heart…when I consider the remarkable sequence of events that unfolded in our wake. A wildfire here…an avalanche there…an emergency landing up on the mountain – all of them occurring mere days after I’d been treated to some of the most memorable scenes I’ve ever experienced; all of them rendering significant hardship on folks who merely wanted to see what I had just seen.
Looking back, in short, I have good reason to sport a heart focused not on annoyance but appreciation. I have been blessed beyond measure. That’s true of my experience with this Alaskan trip. It’s also true in almost every aspect of my life.
Perhaps the same is true for most of you, Dear Readers.
If we pause just a bit, settle in for some quiet time with the Lord, we may find something like “eucharist” – thanksgiving – filling our spirits to overflowing. Jesus himself points us toward such a place in this week’s gospel passage.
Now there was a great deal of grass in that place. So the men reclined, about five thousand in number. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to those who were reclining, and also as much of the fish as they wanted.
It looks like it might not be nearly enough – the simple food we are offered. But looking back, perhaps we’ll be blessed to discover that sometimes our shortsighted perspectives can change.
Let us pause now…to recall that we are in the presence of the Holy & Merciful One.
IHS
With Us Still 