Every young person preparing for confirmation writes me a letter asking to receive the sacrament, and I read them all. When I come across an especially memorable one, I make a mental note of the candidate’s name and mention the letter when I see him or her. I enjoy watching their faces when they realize that I read their letters. Once a candidate included a parenthetical “test” message (“if you are really reading this letter, you will remember that …”), and you can bet that at confirmation I commented about his message!
I have kept a few of the letters. Here’s one of my favorites:
“Dear Bishop Sartain, My name is John Smith. I am 14 years old and attend Jones High School. I am in FFA and I show animals at the fair. I attend St. Mary Church. I am writing this letter to request that you let me get confirmed. I have attended every class every Sunday since it started. I am wanting to get confirmed because deer season is here and I need to get a big one. Deer move in the evenings so I would like to be confirmed so I can hunt. Respectfully yours, John Smith.”
When I first read the letter, I thought John was hoping the Holy Spirit would help him “get” a big deer, but then I realized it was all about timing. Once confirmation class was finished, he could get back to hunting in the evening. I’m sure the Holy Spirit got a kick out of his letter, too.
I’ve done a little duck hunting, though I gave it up about eight years ago. This time of year, you don’t have to wait long before you see someone coming in from hunting duck or deer. Hunting makes for casual conversation at Wal-Mart and in the barbershop. Kids write about hunting in their confirmation letters. The local news covers the World’s Championship Duck Calling Contest in Stuttgart. Families arrange holiday dinners around hunting schedules. Camouflage gear and mud-splashed pickups are everywhere.
Despite the early hours, frozen toes and perilous (at least for me) treks through chest-high water, I enjoyed my hunting experiences. Camaraderie with friends, the morning stillness and the rising sun, the raucous calls and whispering wings of the ducks: all give hunters a unique intimacy with nature, an intimacy that has meaning beyond the hunt itself.
Ever since I started duck hunting, I never look at the sky as I did before. I don’t mean that now I’m always looking for something to shoot! To the contrary, the small amount of hunter’s alertness that rubbed off on me has given me a new vision of the sky. Flocks of ducks and geese gracefully, purposefully sail south on the winds according to God’s grand design. Their formations and the reflected colors of their wings identify and distinguish them. Their calls fill the quiet with a different kind of song. Years ago I wouldn’t have given them a moment’s notice.
The same is true for fishing. Ever since I started fishing, I never look at the water as I did before. Ocean and lake and river and stream teem with underwater life. The knowledgeable, perceptive fisherman sees something more than water, because he has developed a new kind of sight, an awareness of life at another level. He drives past the same bodies of water as everyone else, but he sees something more. Again, it’s not only a matter of wondering if there’s something to “catch.” It’s a matter of seeing beneath and beyond, of knowing that something more is there than meets the eye.
It’s the same with any sport or profession: one develops insight, a new way of seeing, alertness, attentiveness, sensitivity, interest, love — all of which become an instinctive prism through which to see and understand the world.
An architect looks at a building and admires its classic form, its structural genius.
A writer reads a story and sees beauty abiding between the lines.
A painter gazes at a landscape and discovers the intricacies of its shapes and colors.
A physician studies the human body and intuits its strength and delicate balance.
It is much the same with disciples of Jesus: no one who meets him will ever see in the same way again. The vision that comes from discipleship, however, is one that affects our view of everything. Those who believe in the Lord Jesus are to see every person, every event, every opportunity — every moment — in a new way.
That is why Advent is about “waiting,” “alertness” and “patience.”
“Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You too must be patient. Make your hearts firm, because the coming of the Lord is at hand.” (James 5:7-8)
This is the grand opportunity of Advent: to pray for the grace to see in a new way, to be attentive not just in one area but in all of life, to be patiently alert as God’s presence shines through each moment, to follow the Lord Jesus not just on Sunday but always.
It’s not just that we are to “see” in a new way. Because of Jesus, everything truly is new.
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him c/o Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock AR 72217.