Mtr Mary Trainor

You were always on my mind…

Dear friend,

You don’t usually find Willie Nelson’s name at the top of anyone’s list of theologians. And yet, the songs he writes and/or performs have been hailed as among the best three-minute sermons around.

I got to thinking about one song in particular, one that many artists have performed, but one usually associated with Willie. Always on my mind.

Oddly, it seemed to me at first, the song came to the surface as I grappled with Matthew’s Gospel offering today (24:32-51), chock full as it is of apocalyptic imagery. Let me explain “oddly”: The song is not explicitly a religious offering, nor does its message seem to relate to our Gospel today. Until it does. And until we recognize the words as our own, directed at the living God.

Maybe I didn’t love you quite as often as I could have

It is difficult for me to push past the fear and trembling that Matthew often evokes. World-ending stuff, admonitions to stay alert lest one is caught off guard at the Master’s return; people left behind; wicked slaves. Slaves, period. Weeping and gnashing of teeth.

How could I possibly, in all of my human frailty, keep up with all of the cautions?

And maybe I didn’t treat you quite as good as I should have

Sure, I miss the mark a lot in my attempts to be a follower of Jesus. I suspect you do, also. But what I recognize, and here is the Good News as I reflect on the reading for today, I do love God, and God is never very far from my consciousness. God can get pushed to the background, but never completely pushed away. I am not required to know about fig trees and being cut into pieces in order to be in “right relationship.” I just need to return God to first place whenever I realize God has slipped a notch, or even two.

If I made you feel second best, I am sorry I was blind

My trouble with Matthew started years ago in childhood, when I first learned about Jesus from my evangelical mother. She meant the very best, I know, and she was simply passing along what was given to her. But all of that talk about left behind and weeping and gnashing of teeth scared me away from Jesus for forty years. I did not feel secure against the apocalyptic threats. Could I possibly love Jesus enough to not be left in the field or left grinding meal, while others went to their heavenly reward? And just who would be the judge of that? Was I destined for weeping and gnashing for any slip of faith?

The truth that came to me years later, in an Episcopal church, was that Jesus never left me, and I had never really left Jesus.

You were always on my mind, you were always on my mind.

Mtr. Mary