The Ides of March

“Beware the Ides of March!”

I said that today at my office, and one of my coworkers, who has a college education, asked me what I was talking about.

“You know, from Julius Caesar? The day he got turned into a pincushion by the Senate?”

She frowned as if I had asked her for money. “Who?”

“Never mind.” And as I do so often, I turned away.

I can’t wait until Wednesday. “Saint Who?”

A week ago, the migration of hummingbirds back to these climes began. This evening, I was sitting in our office here at home, gazing out the door at Jinx, when something bulleted past. There was a stiff breeze in the tops of the trees, and what I saw might have been a leaf or something like that, but the “something” looked a lot like a hummingbird. I’ve been predicting an early spring for some time now…a quick check of last year’s calendar revealed that the first hummingbird returned here on May 1st, and the year before that, on April 17th. I don’t want to take any chances. I got a feeder out of the barn, filled it, and hung it in the Japanese maple out front. We shall see.

We are approaching Eastertide, and my mind is much on the Passion of the Lord Jesus Christ. But I’ve also been thinking about Christmas, about something that happened some years ago. I was in the home of a pastor who was doing a post-supper devotional with his children. He read from the account of Jesus’ birth in the Holy Gospel according to St. Luke, and then he offered some commentary to stimulate discussion. The pastor talked about the importance of inviting Jesus into the heart, and he noted, “We don’t want to be like the innkeeper…” Here he assumed a cartoon villain’s voice, growly and menacing. “No! There is no room at the inn for you! Get out! I only allow rich people in here! You can go and sleep with the animals in the stable! Get out!” 

His children seemed to get quite a kick out of his story, but I withdrew into myself, realizing that I had heard this sort of embellishment before and realizing that it troubled me.

It’s clear to my that the Holy Family were not spoken to in this way; at least no words to this effect were recorded by St. Luke. The meat and potatoes of the narrative: a national census was in process, and there were many travelers on the way to their respective places of birth. There was no room for the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph, so they repaired to the stable, where baby Jesus was born. No harsh innkeeper. No rudeness. No hardness of heart. If the Holy Family had been traveling in 21st century Texas and arrived at a hotel in Houston on Juneteenth, there would have been no room for them, and they would have been forced to seek lodging elsewhere.

Seems innocent enough, but when I pondered the pastor’s story, I realized how much my own mental picture of that incident had been colored over the years by that very sort of story, and especially by movies and television programs at Christmas. Every one of them that I could recall contained a story element similar to the pastor’s embellishment. The rude, hard-hearted innkeeper, the pitiful family, the wretched lodgings. And again, nothing even close to any of this is contained in the Gospel.

Not long after this, I realized that I had done something similar in my own mind over the years. The episode in our Lord’s life called the Sermon on the Mount was the example I came up with. Because of movies and plays and sermons and Sunday School lessons, I had maintained a mental image of Christ sitting on top of the mountain, disciples around him, with crowds and crowds of people listening to Him. But is that what the Gospel tells us? Was He preaching to a multitude, or did He take His disciples up to the mountaintop and instruct them? Interesting…

This probably seems like a trifling matter, but it’s important for me personally. I have come to see how easily my perceptions can be colored, and this could be quite critical, given that the topic here is spiritual life and health and the consequences attending deathly or unhealthy decisions.

One of the great blessings for me as I continue to study the traditional Roman Catholic faith is that I am seeing so many, many things with fresh eyes. Things that are somewhat in contrast to what I have long believed or thought. And as I think I’ve noted previously, one realization I’ve made is that there is a sharp difference between what I thought (and had been taught) the Catholic faith is and what it actually is.

This means that I feel the need to be very careful and very attentive in my reading, and in my prayers and devotions. And this is an exciting thing! It’s been a long time since I felt enthusiastic in my pursuit of faith and knowledge, so I am savoring this season in my life. There are surprises and delights almost every single day when I read and pray and study.

Who’s to say when a hummingbird might fly past the window at at unlikely time?

All right, I’ll admit it…that was clumsy. I was just trying to tie the hummingbird in with what I was saying about Scripture and faith. But…oh, never mind. I hope the hummingbirds show up soon. I’m betting they know who Julius Caesar was.

~ S.K. Orr