The Length of Our Depth

The long haul. We’re in it for some people or for certain causes. Statistics indicate that the divorce rate in the United States has been creeping downward, but still slightly more than two marriages in every one thousand end in divorce. The phrase in the traditional vows, “’til death do us part,” seems outdated in these contractual relationships that have changed significantly in recent years. But, of course, marriage is just one example of our human commitments that may or may not last. There are plenty of other experiences in life that prove to be tests of the length of our depth.

How do we sustain our allegiance when it becomes burdensome for us? In a remarkable online seminar featuring the leadership of Rev. Dr. Cláudio Carvalhaes, Professor of Worship-Practical Theology at Union Theological Seminary in New York, an insightful accusation came across in his words. We humans struggle with staying power. Carvalhaes asked the poignant question, “For how long do I have you with me?” His emphasis was on the word with. He lifted up the inspiring example of the people who are gathering in Minnesota to sing together. Blending their voices. Bearing witness to their commitment to peace. Grieving publicly through their songs. Carvalhaes suggested that this “singing resistance” movement is an indicator of the depth of participants’ concern for their community, their state, their country. What remains to be seen is the length of their depth.

We could equally consider the small band of Buddhist monks traveling on foot from Fort Worth, Texas, to Washington, DC in solidarity demonstrating their passion for world peace. Recently passing through Richmond, Virginia, on their one hundredth day, people lined the streets to witness the strength of their conviction. Walking over two thousand miles together is clearly an indication of the length of their depth.

And so it is with each of us. Voices and feet and numerous other resources that may be used in service to our commitments. For whom will we stand with? To what do we give our commitment? For how long? ‘Til death do us part? What do we do when we tire of the people in our lives who need us, depend upon us, lean on us? How can we sustain our energy in the long haul? If we fizzle and fade fairly quickly because we are more fickle than firm, what may we learn about our depth?

There are no simple answers. Dr. Carvalhaes advocates the employment of two elements: mercy and gratitude. In his words, these are the two wings of the dove, a symbol of peace. Their presence in our lives may well be an apt measure of the length of our depth.