On
the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me--the first line of an
amazing bit of wisdom carved into the stone above a door of an ancient church
in Iran:
Where Jesus Is, the Great-Hearted Gather.
I've
noticed over the years that people who gather in Christian churches, myself
included, are often not particularly great-hearted.
Maybe
the first line carved in stone above this church door is a prophecy, something
about our potential?
What
does it mean to be great-hearted? Or maybe it's better to ask, what does it
take to be great-hearted?
Perhaps
it's about having hearts that continue to keep pace with our lives. To grow so
that there's room in us to hold life's circumstances wisely--maybe even with a
sense of humor.
And
with more kindness--both for ourselves and everybody else who wanders in and
out of our hearts' neighborhoods.
Any
chance you'll eat more than you can hold over the holidays? There's something
in that feeling that's parallel to not being great-hearted, for not having room
for what we're taking in.
But
then the metaphor breaks down. We don't need bigger stomachs.
But
having hearts that grow to hold what life brings--that's another thing.
