The Big Promise

Odd Company -- January 27, 2025

Dear Friends, Family, Neighbors, and Those of You I Don’t Yet Know —

Welcome to the last Odd Company of January, and the cusp of Imbolc, which will happen on or about February 1st, depending on which version of the Celtic calendar you’re looking at. Imbolc marks the arrival of the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It’s no longer the dead of winter, but it’s a little too soon for spring. I imagine the ancient Celts cared less about the calendar than they did about what they saw around them — the first hardy Irish bulb flowers poking their heads up through snow, or the birth of the year’s first baby lambs.

This week, it’s been very cold here…for California. We’ve had a high of 60° today, and the low tonight will be just above freezing. A persistent breeze has made it seem colder. There’s been frost on the roofs a couple of mornings. I haven’t been out in the garden as much as usual because, I’m ashamed to say, it’s not so much fun when it’s cold. Instead I’ve been indoors doing things like ordering seeds and cooking chicken soup, while turning a few things over in my mind.

Tonight I want to talk a little bit about commitment. That is, about keeping our promises to ourselves and others, and why this is so important. I’ve been thinking about all of this (while making my chicken soup, etc.) mainly because a couple of weeks ago, I had one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life so far. Which, given that I’ve had some pretty extraordinary experiences, is a meaningful statement. If you’ve been reading along, you know that my sister has been very sick. Among other things, this illness has affected her kidneys. Her doctors were on the verge of putting her on dialysis, which would have been a cusp, I guess you could say. Not a gentle one, like Imbolc, either. It would have marked a serious worsening of her condition, and a serious lessening of hope.

So I prayed. Now…I haven’t said much about my religious beliefs here. Partly because I believe the old wisdom about avoiding religion and politics when trying to make polite conversation. And Odd Company is, after all, about having harmonious conversations with our fellow human beings. But now, in order to tell this story, I will have to say a few things about a topic I would otherwise avoid out of politeness.

My sister and I were raised together in the evangelical Christian tradition. And we both parted ways with the church as teenagers, due to…well, let’s just say a series of unfortunate events that made it clear to us we were no longer welcome there. I have not been inside a church since, except for weddings and funerals, an occasional Christmas or Easter Mass (I married a Catholic guy), or to admire the architecture. Though I never gave up my belief in a higher power, I have never had the traditional personal relationship with God that I learned about as a child in a Baptist church. I think there’s something out there with a mind that’s big enough to understand everything. Though I see evidence of its handiwork all around me, I don’t know quite what it is. I have long thought of it as the Great Ineffable. I do pray most nights, but I have long looked upon these prayers as a sort of smile and wave, and a way of reminding myself of the many things I’m grateful for and the many people I care about. I feel a little impertinent about asking for favors from such a mighty entity, so I don’t usually do it. The other night, though, in my desperation, I did. I not only asked the Great Ineffable to heal my sister’s kidneys; I promised to show my gratitude by going back to church again.

The minute I sent up that prayer, I had a distinctly goose-bumpy moment of feeling Noticed. The wordless message was, “I heard that.” I also became acutely aware of the fact that I had made a promise, and I would have to keep it if the prayer was answered — I who have not voluntarily worshiped in a church in decades, and really, have not had any desire to.

The upshot of all this is that my sister’s kidneys improved so much in the next few days that her doctor was shocked. And I have now gone to church three weeks in a row. This has required a complete rearrangement of my previously quiet Sundays. It’s not an easy commitment. But, you know, I try hard to keep my promises — even the ones I make to mere mortals.

You might well ask why it matters. After all, we live in a society in which “commitment” barely has any meaning. People promise all sorts of things they’re not serious about actually doing. And on the other end of that equation, people routinely refuse to promise things because committing to one path usually means giving up others, and nobody wants to miss out on anything, right?

But just consider how refreshing it is when you meet someone whose word you can trust — maybe a craftsman who promises to do a job for you and then does it well and on time; a friend who promises they’ll always be there for you, and always is; a youngster who makes up their mind to get through school come hell or high water and then sticks with it. We instinctively admire people who behave in this hopelessly generous and honorable way. Maybe because they help us imagine a better world. One in which we can take most people at their word.

I’ve tried to choose a piece of music for tonight that captures some of this. Tonight’s selection is written by American singer-songwriter Mary Chapin Carpenter. But she’s joined here by two of my other all-time favorite singers, a couple of Irish women (perhaps in honor of Imbolc), Julie Fowlis and Karine Polwart. We are all carrying each other, whether we want to be or not. It’s a lot easier if we can trust people to do what they promise. Lyrics here.

Till next we meet, at which time it will truly be Imbolc!