“I invite you to become one of the least.” -Fr. Fabian
How are your faith stories and legends written?
Where do the little people, the least of society, fit in to your stories of faith?
Who are the little ones who become the heroes in your legends?
There are several Native American legends where the hero may be small in stature, like a child who braves a wintery blizzard. She walks miles in the night storm to obtain a medicine to save her village from a destructive illness. As she walks home, she loses her moccasins in the deep snow. She leaves a trail of bloody footprints to her village. In the spring, lady slipper flowers mark the path of her journey and the reminder of the power of the little one.
Another relates to a village with children falling ill due to upset sleeping patterns from frightening dreams. The spiders lower themselves to a grandmother rocking an upset child. The spiders promise to leave their webs over the cribs of the babies, allowing only pleasant dreams to enter the children. Thus we have the origin of the dream catcher. The little one was the grandmother who was able to hear the wee voice of the lowly spider.
The Christian scriptures are filled with stories of ‘little people’ hearing the message of God. These same messages fall on the deaf ears of the rich and powerful. Angels spoke to the old man, Zechariah, announcing the conception of John the Baptist. The same angel spoke to the peasant girl, Mary, announcing the conception of Jesus. Joseph is warned by an angel that Mary’s conception is of God. The list is endless. Shepards, sinners, thieves and prostitutes hear messages of God. These same messages are missed or ignored by people of status and power. These messages affirm the voice of God to the society, often in the stillness.
In a recent homily, Fr. Fabian invited us of the need to enter in to ‘littleness’ in order to hear the Divine voice.
What makes us little?
Every person I have met in addiction and trauma recovery meetings has become little enough to ask for help. In our state of brokenness, we hear the voices of others whose broken lives have carried them to the healing fellowship of other broken people. Broken people, willing to admit their brokenness and ask for help, find other broken people (little people) who reach out with their stories. These stories contain the healing voice of the Divine. Our sacred stories reflect our wisdom, strength and hope.
Little broken people, willing to share the scars of their souls, enter in to a sacred family of healers. Oddly enough, no one of us would dare to identify as a healer. Yet, together, with scars open for viewing, wisdom open for the weary, and hope flowing through the work of recovery, we watch each other heal. We feel each other grow in strength. We proclaim a collective hope as our fellowship puts skin to Divinity.
Together, we offer rest. Together, we experience hope. Together, our wisdom heals the broken. Together, our scars remind us of the distance traveled.
Together, we little ones overflow with grace and peace.