He looked out his celestial window on that seventh day and saw that “It was good.” Creation began and continues this very moment. He saw the many colors outside his window. From his heavenly vantage, he saw possibilities, promise.
She gazed out her window and witnessed the hustle and bustle as a new day began. Was this day to bring something new or merely a yesterday’ repeat? It can only be told at the end of this beginning day. Did she see possibilities for all those anonymous faces passing by her window? Could she see promise in the way they walked – quick steps to get to work on time or were they the slower steps of a retired chap whose time is no longer measured by a 9-5 clock.
He gazed down at us and was hurt by the destruction we were destroying so he decided to start all over again in spite of his perfect, first creation. He destroyed what we were trying to destroy – ourselves. So he looked hard through his heavenly window and sent floods upon floods until the cleansing was complete. He then inspected his new world, now containing two of each, and offered us a dove and a rainbow vowing that he would never, ever do that kind of damage to us again. He promised us. He’s kept his promise.
Taking a look out her window causes her to bring her reflection back to herself in her own, private thoughts. Promises made; her promises and those made to her, some broken and others forgotten along with her fulfilled promises are her thoughts as she studied the passerbys carrying their briefcases, relying on canes, holding hands or holding out a hand looking for a free dollar. She saw much and reflected upon much.
He, by the way, never really apologized for those floods but he kept a promise he made to all the ancient prophets. He inspired them to talk to everyone they met about a “covenant” that would beat all other covenants. “Unbreakable,” he told those prophets. “Written in their hearts,” he assured them – nothing to be taught, just lived. A covenant of reconciliation and mercy. Two words that only he can fulfill.
She was frugal as only her generation could do. Even her bus fare became a big decision. “Dasent (a word from her era), Dasent spend what you don’t need. I’ll walk.” She’d window shop but never stopping to buy, isn’t that the “Georgy Girl” song? Observing and taking in the sights of sounds of the busiest city in the world.
Observing, absorbing, reflecting. Pretty good and meaty words for us impulsive types. It’s the three-word-process that leads to a decision. It’s the three-word-process that leads toward a belief. It’s the three-word-process that makes an idea a value.
He thought his window was getting kinda dirty but then realized that he was looking squarely outside and downside and saw things unraveling yet again. That flood-thing wouldn’t work for him a second time. He promised us. He studied what he saw through his divine window, smiled in agreement with his thought and sent his son to show us how to see from one window to the outside – one person’s to the next person’s window. He instructed his son to emphasize “hope.” “You can’t say ‘hope’ enough to those folks down there,” he tells his son after Mary is made his designated-mom.
Catching a glimpse of someone who looks like her grandchild or great-grandchild, a silent prayer is offered by her to the guy up there and to that growing person down here. She smiles hoping that her prayer is not just a wish but a sincere hope for their unknown stumbles, their misguided decisions but most importantly their rewards to express their right talents in the right job.
He sent us his only son. It has a happy ending if you don’t mind my “spoiler alert.” But the problem is that he still looks outside his window and continues to rely upon us – each and every one of us – to make his creation the way he created it and rested after, on that seventh day. We still don’t seem to get, do we? Perhaps if he had other children to send us? No.
I envy those two people. They both had wonderful, clear windows to observe, absorb and reflect. Mine looks out at my neighbor’s garage. (He keeps it quite orderly.) But it’s my view that views the world full of other views and still more differing viewpoints.
If images are your thing and the Church loves images then God is the window to all that can be and will be. I’m sure she learned in her many years that Jesus Christ was the glass- Jesus is the means to recognize the God-window that contains him. The Holy Spirit? That’s easy when you live in an older home. Insulation isn’t that great so the Holy Spirit gets to float and permeate every part of our lives. Together this Trinity blesses our lives every day as it blessed hers, it’s the Spirit that stops us, when necessary, but no longer with a flood but now spoken through a caring friend or spouse, a Spirit that offers us possibilities and promises the way he created the world to be. The best of all is that repeated message he gave to his son – give them hope, lots of hope for both today and tomorrow.
And, add in a lot of Windex.