De Waal: Crossing Life's Borders

De Waal: Living on the Border, Community

“The first step in listening, learning, and changing is to see that different is not dangerous; the second is to be happy and willing to live with uncertainty; the third is to rejoice in ambiguity and to embrace it. It all means giving up the comfort of certainty and realizing that uncertainty can actually be good.”—Esther de Waal, To Pause at the Threshold, Reflections on Living on the Border (Morehouse).

 When de Waal wrote this book, she had returned to the home where she had grown up on the border between England and Wales. I met this prolific Benedictine and Celtic spirituality writer at the College of Preachers at the Washington National Cathedral. She often took up residence there and was accessible during meals to weekly pilgrims like myself, seeking respite and learning in this sacred space.

This small pocket-sized book is a gem to read and re-read. De Waal talks about how we relate to borders and boundaries, as she directly experiences borders in her day-to-day living experience.

Do we build walls, barriers, and fortresses, or do we engage in conversation and learn about something different, another culture?

She describes the world’s diversity as an icon to let us know God loves differences. She entices us to be like a porter waiting at the gate of a Benedictine monastery, standing at the “threshold of two worlds.” He welcomes those who ask to enter no matter the time of day, treating each stranger as if it were Christ.

This resonates with me as a deacon. Our ministry calls us to go back and forth between two worlds: the church and the world outside the church.

De Waal also teaches us to honor the threshold of the two worlds and be open to the change, the uncertainty, and the contradictions that the different worlds may present to us.

De Waal’s concept of thresholds has been helpful in visiting those in hospitals or the homebound. I have learned to pause as I cross the threshold of the hospital room. This is a time to wash my hands at the patient’s door. The threshold is a symbolic reminder that I am entering another world. The hand-washing is a reminder to leave my agenda at the door. I am there to honor that person, and listen and be present to them.

During the recent pandemic, I again encountered this ritual with the many times we washed our hands. I tried to let loose or wash away the cares that previously consumed me. It was a reminder to live in the moment and be open to passing through a new threshold.

Some of the time, I continue to remember.

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/