This past weekend I had the rare opportunity to be alone in my yard, with no responsibilities other than to weed my garden.  Weeding is a very therapeutic endeavour, because as you eliminate what you don’t want, you also allow space and soil and sun to reach the plants you do want to nurture. It is a task which (though it doesn’t seem so at the beginning) has an actual ending, after which time you can look out and see the fruits of your labour. True, there will be more weeds, but just then – when you complete your patch – then at that moment it’s a tiny little sense of having contributed to part of God’s beauty in creation.

But more importantly, at least for me, it’s a time to be able to reflect. And this weekend, as we celebrated Canada Day, I was reminded of a day a couple of years ago when I had the chance to stand on the bank of the Annapolis Basin, near the Bay of Fundy at Port Royal, Nova Scotia to see a re-enactment of the first Jesuit missionaries’ arrival at what is now Canada. I’ll never forget the image of seeing what it must have been like to step on to this amazing new land.

Then I was reminded how three different people experienced the very same event there in Nova Scotia, and how the past, the present, and the future were intertwined right in that one experience.

For me, it spoke of the valuable gift that history and tradition are to us as Canadians. It’s not that everything has always been sunshine and roses, because of course we have gone through and continue to go through the pains of growth and change. We’ve hurt and been hurt – some of the weeds in our own garden. In many more ways, I’d like to think, we’ve brought freedom, health, and have nurtured our land and people.

Another person, during the same time and witnessing the same scene, thought rather of the connectedness between himself 

and his fellow Jesuits at that present moment and what implications it had and has for his ministry. When I think of the connections that I have made through my association with the Jesuits, it reminds me of the roots of my little veggies as they hug and spread through the earth. It’s like an exploration of the present, which daily brings growth and change.

A third perspective came from a Mi’qmak elder, who made a plea — that just as the Mi’qmak people had helped these European missionaries adjust to the climate and ways of North America then, now they need help to save their language which is in danger of being lost, to bring energy to the future of his people.  I do believe that we are all treaty people. That is part of our inheritance, but it is now especially part of our future. As the Aboriginal peoples (in this example) regain their status and share the wealth of their history and tradition, we have the opportunity to truly live out being women and men for others.

So these perspectives, which flowed through my thoughts as I was weeding, helped me to remember and reclaim the realization that the past, the present, and the future really do have a bearing on our respective lives. Who and where we are, in whatever Jesuit apostolate, at whatever stage of life, we are part of a whole, part of a larger picture.

The weeds always come back. But with attention and care they can be removed – sometimes one at a time, with painstaking effort, like my little vegetable garden, or more efficiently and quickly with a roto-tiller or other kind of cultivator as they do at the larger market gardens.We must continue to remove the weeds, to allow the elements to contribute to the growth of the plants we want

As the summer continues, in various places around the country and around the world, we will all have the opportunity to reflect. I invite us all to reflect on our past, our present, and our future and to use our reflection as a guide to how we can be women and men for others — as Jesuits, lay collaborators, partners, or whatever brings us to this blog.