From now I announce new things to you,
hidden events you never knew.
Now, not from old, they are created,
Before today you did not hear of them,
so that you cannot claim, “I have known them.”
You never heard, you never knew,
they never reached your ears beforehand.
(Isaiah 48:6b-8a)
Jeweled eggs created by the firm of Fabergé from the days of the Russian Empire are sold today for tens of thousands of dollars. They’re not real eggs, of course, merely egg shaped.
Real eggs are fragile, and their shells are meant to be breakable (though they sometimes are hardboiled and decorated for Easter). It’s amazing how long something as fragile as an egg shell remains intact.
Shells are simply the first stage in the development of a new little bird (or platypus!)—and they have to be broken if new life is to emerge.
Figuratively speaking, growth and development always involve a sort of breaking and loss of what once was—and even very necessary in its time—so that life may go on and flourish.
We may love and cherish a particular stage of our life, but inevitably we need to move on—even though the change may involve a shattering and leaving behind of what was loved and prized.
The joy—and pain—of living involves change, gradual or sudden, minor or major, and particular stages of our lives and of the world we live in can’t be frozen or preserved permanently. (Embalming is only for the dead!)
Sometimes we yearn for an imagined past, imagined, because often memories tend to be somewhat selective and edited; we may emphasize the pleasurable and satisfying parts of the past, overlooking or minimizing what was unpleasant or painful.
The few verses from Isaiah (quoted initially) allude to the wonderful, unfamiliar, novel things that God has in store for us.
When we appeal to God, ask for help, pray, we are inviting divine intervention—change! And, often God’s responses regarding our personal or family lives or the whole world are initially disturbing to us and even upsetting—because of their newness.
For the little bird or platypus to live, to grow and develop, they must break through the fragile shell that encases them. And, this is a metaphor for each of us and for all the world we live in.
It’s hard to yearn for the unknown, since what we do not know and have not experienced can be frightening prospects—but that’s life!
Some changes in our lives are desired and yet, even so, disturbing. like graduations, marriage, and moving to a new place or getting a new job.
Some events in our lives come upon us gradually and subtly; other can be so sudden and unforeseen that our instinctive reaction is to reject them and recoil—even though, later, we may come to appreciate, celebrate, and thank God for them.
Beware of a life of faith, for it invites and welcomes divine intervention. And when God acts in our lives and in our world, our first reaction often is to try to avoid the changes God’s intervention demands.
A life of faith requires strength and courage, a willingness to let go even of our favorite things, a repeated plunging into the unknown or even undesired.
Life and faith involve constantly breaking out of shells, letting go, and entrusting ourselves to God whose love ever guides us.
16 January 2022