How can I build a life gratefully when the world seems about ready to cave in? — Rob S., Colorado

The poet’s words remind me of the little booths that our Jewish brothers and sisters build on the Feast of Tabernacle every year, to remember the time when they lived purely on hope, trusting God to meet their needs. They went out, and there was manna on the ground. They had nothing else to live on but manna. They lived on surprise, so to speak. Unimaginable surprise! So even today they build these temporary shelters, live in them for a whole week, and celebrate.

That's how we should build as pilgrims, in harmony with the instructions given the Jewish people: "Build the walls so lightly that you are still aware that you have neighbors. And build the roofs so lightly that you can look through and see the stars." That kind of roof God does not have to break. If we build our life in that form, we are people of hope. If we build any more firmly, and sure enough, most of our religious institutions have built a lot more firmly, we should expect that God shatters it all, to make room for the unimaginable, so that we will see the stars.