Being Invisible: Thursday's Reflection

Gauzy panels of sheer organza hang in the chancel of our church. Veils. 

I gasped when I saw them for the first time, for they are striking in their simplicity. But they are also an invitation during this season of Lent.

According to the written explanation included in our Sunday bulletin the installation "invites us to ask what we see and don't see...What is hidden? What do we need to see or understand in order to deepen our trust in the resurrection and to be more faithful in our response to God's grace?" 

Powerful questions, indeed, and I have been sitting with them during my morning meditation time. In addition, something else has arisen in me: the gifts of invisibility. 

A story: Many years ago when I was in my early 50's I remember being in a Panera waiting to place an order. I was the next person in line. Standing behind me was a young man in his late 20's or early 30's. When the cashier had finished the transaction with the person in front of me, I started to step forward, but the cashier said, "Can I help you, SIR?" Instead of deferring, not wanting to cause a fuss and after all I had time, it was no big deal to wait a bit longer, I politely, but firmly said, "Excuse me, but it is my turn. I am the next person in line."

She said, and this is important, "Oh, I didn't see you." 

Did she not see me because I am a woman? Because I was older and, in fact, an older woman? Or shorter than the young man behind me? Or what?

The fact was I was invisible. I was not seen. I was behind a veil. 

Now almost 70 I am aware of how often older people are invisible. Obviously, for the most part I don't think that is a good thing, but I also think there may be some gifts that come with invisibility, when I see, but am not seen.

Remember the cloak of invisibility in the Harry Potter books? Well often Harry and his buddies called upon the magic of the cloak when they needed protection, but once wrapped in its powers they could continue to see and hear what was going on around them. Without interruption or interference. Without question. Without attempts to change their minds. Without judgement. 

With invisibility comes spaciousness to observe, to listen, to take in the world with all our senses. To be a quiet and loving presence--even if no one realizes it. With invisibility comes humility and tolerance. With invisibility comes the opportunity to go within, to see the rest of myself, the parts I don't see when I am operating in full visibility. 

Now I hasten to add I am not promoting subservience or submissiveness. I advocate using one's voice and being an active presence in the world. However, sometimes being invisible leads to a new way of seeing and of being and of knowing ourselves as God's beloved. 

An Invitation

When have you felt invisible? Beyond the shadow behind that veil, was there any light? I would love to know.