The Man in the Bucket

The man in the bucket only idled his chainsaw long enough to snap, no, he couldn’t stop, and wave me away.  But when I walked the half block back to the cemetery and up the hill to where the family waited, the great whining died and the woodchipper ceased and we stood by the grave and grieved.

It was quiet.

The only problem was that the sun was in my eyes and I couldn’t see.  It just kept shining and shining.

     Still, there are those who appear to feel encouraged or at least permitted by their faith to support varieties of narrow and violent nationalism, xenophobia, and contempt, and even the mistreatment of those who are different.  Faith, and the humanism it inspires, must maintain a critical sense in the face of these tendencies, and prompt an immediate response whenever they rear their head.  For this reason, it is important that catechesis and preaching speak more directly and clearly about the social meaning of existence, the fraternal dimension of spirituality, our conviction of the inalienable dignity of each person, and our reasons for loving and accepting all our brothers and sisters. 

        Pope Francis, Fratelli Tutti

And I’m not talking about this man’s attitude towards me.  I’m talking about my attitude towards him—a man working hard for a living, not his own boss and not on his own schedule, with who knows what experience of churches and religion.

God is bigger than both of us!  All of us!

We are all the man in the bucket, and we all must come down.