Meditation While Raking Leaves

In July 1945 a very short item by C.S. Lewis called “Meditation in a Toolshed” appeared in print. In it he relates a lesson about discerning truth that came to him while seeing a beam of sunlight come through the roof in his toolshed. Similarly, as I was raking leaves a day or two ago, a lesson came to me about the Christian life.

In October 2001 I spent a week at a clergy refreshment and formation conference. At one point the leader encouraged the forty or so of us to come up with a “BHAG” (pronounced bee-hag)—a “Big Hairy Audacious Goal” for our lives. She said that a BHAG was something that would take at least ten years to achieve, and had no guarantee of ever being achieved.

At the closing gathering we all sat in a circle, and she asked if anyone would be willing to share whatever BHAG he or she had come up with. There was probably a full minute of silence, so I decided to go first. I raised my hand, got the go-ahead, and said, “I’d like to be included in a future edition of Lesser Feasts and Fasts.” (This is a listing of saints in the calendar of the Episcopal Church.)

There was a pregnant silence for about two seconds, and then the entire group erupted into the loudest, most spontaneous, most feverishly uncontrolled group laughter I’ve ever heard: people doubled over in their seats, slapped their thighs, and guffawed. Tears came down some faces. It went on for about a minute.

Well, I intended it to be funny and to break the ice, and that certainly worked. When the laughter died down and the tears were wiped away, others began to share their BHAGs.

But here’s a secret: I meant it. Not that I be recognized and celebrated by future generations as a saint—that’s not what I wanted. But I do want to become truly saintly. Really, for everyone it is the only “BHAG” to have.

One of my favorite blogs is called “The Catholic Gentleman”, written by a fellow named Sam Guzman, a husband and father in Wisconsin. The tagline for his blog is “Be a Man, Be a Saint”. He’s nailed it. This vision, this goal certainly goes way against the grain in today’s culture, but the culture is spectacularly wrong. Being a man and being a saint is the only purpose of a man’s life. Saint Paul puts it this way: “For me to live is Christ” (Philippians 1:21) and “I press on to take h old of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me” (Philippians 3:12). This is what I want. Indeed, there is nothing else worth wanting—to become the man Christ calls and empowers me to be. To be a man of virtue: to be honorable, dedicated to truth, loving to small and great, chaste, patient, humble, strong, peaceful, courageous… all the virtues. The word “virtue” comes from the Latin word vir, which mean “man”. To be a true man means to be virtuous; to fail in virtue is to fail in manhood.

So what does this have to do with raking leaves? The week of Thanksgiving is the time when most of the leaves have fallen and my yard is littered with them. So it’s time to rake them up. They go into a long pile at the street-edge of the front yard, and a truck will come through the neighborhood once a week to suck them up. I could use a leaf-blower, but so far I have resisted. I still use a leaf rake—a rather small one, actually. It’s much better exercise, uses no power, and it’s quiet except for the persistent sound of the scrape of the rake against the earth. And my heavy breathing once I get going. Raking leaves is hard work.

This year I did the chore over a two day period: first one side, and then the other, moving the leaves from the back yard (where nearly all the leaves fall) through the side gates to the front yard and the strip adjacent to the street. You begin with a few leaves, but it doesn’t take long to build up to a pile, and the more you rake, the bigger the pile becomes. A half hour into the task, and just to make a little progress you have to move the entire pile.

As I was raking, it occurred to me that the spiritual life is like this. The farther you go, the harder it gets. You can see the clear ground behind you, but ahead is the daunting, leaf-covered yard and a lot to move just to make the least progress. The inner voices say, “Take a break; you’ve worked hard enough for now.” And, “Feel that pain in your shoulders, thighs, and lower back as you turn and twist and heave the pile forward; that’s gonna really hurt tomorrow. Better stop now.” And, “You don’t need to finish today. Just leave the pile and come back another time.” And, “Your neighbors will think you’re either too stupid or too poor to buy a leaf blower. They’ll think you’re old fashioned or don’t know any better. That young guy across the street with a leaf blower is obviously smarter and more efficient than you are.” Or even, “Wow, look at that 69-year-old man go! He doesn’t look a day over 65!” And, “You can leave that part of the yard unraked; it’s really not too bad and it’ll be easier and faster to let it go.” These messages are persistent and repetitive, appearing ever more and more sensible and attractive.

But as soon as I connected leaf raking with a dedication to growing in sanctity, I committed to finishing the job in one day. No giving up, even for a short time except to breathe deeply for a moment and swallow a little water. Across the back yard, through the narrow gate, and across the front yard. I recognized that the inner messages of discouragement, urgings to slow down or rest, or about what others may be thinking were the same messages that come whenever I try to become more and more obedient to God and his call to rely on his grace. Maybe the ever-increasing difficulty is a sign of progress—but really, it’s not progress but persistence that is important; I don’t think anyone can ever tell if he is making “progress”.

As I age, I become more and more aware of my grievous sins, my psychological and emotional burdens and failures, and how far short I am of life’s real BHAG. I can talk and preach the message of grace and mercy and God’s love and promises, but it is still hard for me to internalize it. It’s all grace, but that doesn’t in the least mean that there is no hard work to be done; on the contrary, the greater the dedication to “be a man, be a saint”, the harder it is. This is how God works. Any commitment to another takes work, and the commitment to God most of all, for there the stakes are highest and the reward the richest. “One thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. All of us who are mature should take such a view of things” (Philippians 3:13-15).

It took nearly three hours, but when it was done, there was a good-sized pile of leaves along the street-side of the front yard. But tomorrow, more leaves will fall. “Let us live up to what we have attained” (Philippians 3:16).