I got into the passenger seat of our van. We were about to back out of the driveway when Cindy drew my attention to the spider web that had been spun on the sideview mirror. We slowed down and watch as the fragile lace undulated in the wind. The spider was nowhere to be seen, but the delicate tatting was a testimony to the industry and the beauty of the weaver.
As we drove away I watched the air pressure rise and fall and the web along with it, almost like it was a set of lungs. It was protected from the direct wind and survived all the way to the church. I think it might still be there, but I have not had the heart to check.
I have an ambivalent relationship to spider webs. Most of the time that I have a direct encounter with them it is because I catch one in the face. One of the hazards of hiking and leading a hike is that my face is ever the foremost part. I have never gotten used to the sticky mass clinging to my brows, cheeks and forehead. It always feeling like some of it is left behind and it takes two or three wipes to get my face clean. On some hikes through the woods I beat the air with my hands as If I was blind and groping in the dark.
At other times, I see the artistry and stop to take pictures of the webs. I have never really captured one in a photo that makes me feel that same as seeing one in person. They are so tiny, ephemeral and delicate. On those occasions I take a wide berth around the webs, giving the spider a chance to benefit from it's industry. For some reason, I have less compassion for the fly than I do for the arachnid. I hate the thought of sweeping my hand through the air and destroying the work. I hate the feeling of heartlessness and waste. It just feels like destruction for the sake of destruction because that spider is helping keep other pests at bay.
That gesture, that brief decision to tear down, when I could easily allow life to go on unhindered seems to be a decision that people make all the time. Its the careless word, its the slight twisting of the story, its the abandoning of a value or a friend for quick convenience. Our world seems to be running headlong to deeper fracturing and some of it is the rolling power of people who just bowl over the small, the voiceless and the powerless because they can. Christianity has gotten so used to being in power, that we have let power and influence be what we care more about that the Christ who is the author of compassion, of servanthood and the downward way. We have equated success with Godliness. We spurn sacrifice in our consumer, me-driven world. We just wave the problems away.
I bet that spider will be up again, trying again, building again. Maybe you could look around and build up some tiny thing, say an encouraging word, listen when you could talk. Maybe you could inconvenience yourself and go around instead of going through someone.