The Face of God

The Veil Nebula: ESA/Hubble & NASA, Z. Levay

My eyes filled with tears walking down the hallway at work. The walls, windows and floors cleaned and polished regularly, important people doing important work with data, science and objectivity. The air of distance stinging the wound of vulnerability, illness, death. I could not greet those passing by, I panicked, felt exposed, ashamed - would I inspire pity if someone saw, derision? Or worst of all, indifference and the awkwardness of emotion when one is trained to set them aside?

I had come into work and considered, as I walked the two blocks to my office, my life within this system. My mind took me to Memphis when chaplaincy opened me to working and walking the hallways of hospitals - 19 years ago come August. I thought of who might have been then, around my age now, and to my surprise, J immediately came to mind. Eighteen and a half years ago, he wasn't quite my current age, but close. His energy and enthusiasm, his love of his work and his peers, his khakis, dress shirt and executive folder - a million images decompressed in a few steps. 

The speed with which time moves set my heart on the precipice - as if a single push might send me sailing into the chasm of eternity - no hope of clawing my way back up - destruction the inevitable ending. With one step, my life with J reached the inevitable fork of parting, and then I HAD TO STOP thinking because I could not have made it up the elevator and into my office, much less completed a workday.

Sometimes the edge of grief draws near, and I don't always understand why. I have been tired, worn down by the responsibilities of the day-to-day. I have wondered how to spend more time with my precious J - to share as much love, laughter, and adventure as possible while we still have bodies willing to do the same. Then to consider how rapidly 19 years go, despite the long days. . .and my eyes filled with tears.

As I wrote this, J came in and gave me tissues, then offered to be near - stepping away as I protested because of my own self-consciousness. I, so timid and sheltering of my raw emotion, and J, so open to it, so loving of me. He is the face of God to me - a sacrament of love - thanks be to God.

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Genesis 33:1-11, NRSV

33 Now Jacob looked up and saw Esau coming, and four hundred men with him. So he divided the children among Leah and Rachel and the two maids.2 He put the maids with their children in front, then Leah with her children, and Rachel and Joseph last of all. 3 He himself went on ahead of them, bowing himself to the ground seven times, until he came near his brother.

4 But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept. 5 When Esau looked up and saw the women and children, he said, “Who are these with you?” Jacob said, “The children whom God has graciously given your servant.” 6 Then the maids drew near, they and their children, and bowed down; 7 Leah likewise and her children drew near and bowed down; and finally Joseph and Rachel drew near, and they bowed down. 8 Esau said, “What do you mean by all this company that I met?” Jacob answered, “To find favor with my lord.” 9 But Esau said, “I have enough, my brother; keep what you have for yourself.” 10 Jacob said, “No, please; if I find favor with you, then accept my present from my hand, for truly to see your face is like seeing the face of God, since you have received me with such favor. 11 Please accept my gift that is brought to you, because God has dealt graciously with me and because I have everything I want.” So he urged him, and he took it.

Tree Talking

What is it like
to be a pine
planted by God or mother earth
in southern clay?

 

Bursting forth from germinated seed 

Growing year,

After year…

After year, tall into the sky

 

Losing friends, sisters, brothers

Land cleared and farms tilled

The barn with its cow and chickens

The house, its husband, wife and 3 kids

 

And still, to stand and welcome 

squirrels, hawks, and bark-prickling ants,

To hold the morning and evening sun,

the angry atmosphere's gusts.

 

Then one day

The saw, the ax, the crane

A tribe of men attacking

What would rather not attack back

 

No longer breaking the soil in root

holding the Wisteria,

giving the redhead food

or a backyard shade

 

Instead, with precision cuts,

The rings of time exposed

And it is felled

Never to rise again.

The Playhouse

 

Image from this article.

If you see two posts for today, I *thought* I had posted yesterday, but J informed me tonight nothing actually posted. Once I finally returned to my computer, the post sat in "draft" status. Turns out my brain really had shut off for the night when I wrote. . .

Tonight, I spent an hour or so at a singer-songwriter event held in an old Christian church. Three performers with vastly different styles sang "in the round" - one belting a tune, then the next, then the next and then they started over again. My jaw kept clinching and each time I encouraged my muscles to relax, they returned to the locked position. I don't know why. 

My musings shift between the thrumming volume, the vibrating vocals, the discomforting position of the artists (perched on a stool under the spotlights, listening to their other two stage-mates plugging away). Maybe the voices straining to create a "rich" sound made my neck tight. My mirror neurons guessing at how much force of will it takes to play an instrument and sing out lines of your soul to a room full of strangers with red ticket drinks in aluminum cans and plastic cups. 

The venue arrested me as well. A beautifully bricked church now a playhouse. Arched windows once opened to the sun, now wooded over; a stage where a pulpit and choir likely sat, set with half walls, fake entrances, make-believe windows. All the light of the sun blocked out, so spot lights and stage lights won't have competition. Raised auditorium seating with chevrons up front replace staid pews of wood and cushion.

Maybe the building grew into what it always was - a place for an audience to ingest a product sold by people playing a role, the message given through imitations of life and illumination. 

A harsh critique? Probably too much so. I don't consider myself cynical, yet those words are from my brain. . . 

I like the idea of a church being a playhouse, as I find God 110% the eponym "Creator," and where creation occurs, play dances in fairy rings and rainbows - tree roots and mycorrhizal fungi dependent on one another for life; rain and sunshine colliding to birth colors. If church is anything, maybe it needs to first seek to be playful - to be like God in the world - creative, surprising, giving. 

As I consider the Holy Week's arrival, I wonder, however briefly, if we have really understood all this time what Christ came to do. If we haven't, I pray we will.

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Luke 18:1-8, NRSV

The Parable of the Widow and the Unjust Judge

18 Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. 2 He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. 3 In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my accuser.’ 4 For a while he refused, but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, 5 yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’ ” 6 And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. 7 And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? 8 I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

Eyes Open

Picture credit

I'm enjoying my eyes-open centering prayer practice. My life pushed me into it, though. When I first learned about centering prayer/meditation, I had traveled to the Hudson River Valley and ensconced myself in a Benedictine monastery there (with about 20-30 people from my theological seminary). In an ancient basement room, arches of stone creating column-obscuring views, we were taught to sit, with eyes closed, and focus on God. Nary a worldly or bodily distraction should shift us, and if an unwanted itch or slight pinch arose, acknowledge it and let the sensation go.

Later, when I sat in a centering prayer circle in Memphis, a similar exhortation came. With both feet on the ground, hands comfortably on legs or chair, our eyes were to close and all focus be on God regardless of what the body or world around us may do. Later still, during another educational adventure, a professor taught Eastern Meditation with similar guidance: sit still, eyes closed and see what floats down the river of consciousness and let it go, and focus again on breath, on being.

The preponderance of teachers saying the same thing about similar practices usually means the wisdom of time and practice lays a foundation which imparts the benefit of the exercise. In other words, no need to upset the apple cart, but. . .

When barre class runs late, or it's Friday and Krispy Kreme *must* be purchased, and the faithful group of "simple presence" practitioners meet promptly at 6:30. . .well, centering prayer becomes wrapped with visions of Shades Creek gurgling under the bridge, the emergence of red maple leaves, the greening of the tulip magnolia. Prayer also converges with sparrow song, cawing crows, shrieking hawks and the flurry of bird activity hailing the rising sun.  Cool air, the scent of cherry blossoms, the sickly green coat of pine pollen weave their own tapestry of story, of yearning, of praise - and God ceases to exist in the singular space behind my closed lids and expands to fill all the "circling spheres." 

I've sensed the whisper to watch, feel, listen, smell and taste God in the center of all of my life: the active moving parts AND the quiet, sitting still ones. 

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Psalm 24:1-2, NRSV

Entrance into the Temple

Of David. A Psalm.

1 The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it,
    the world, and those who live in it,
2 for he has founded it on the seas
    and established it on the rivers.

In the stillness

By Gustav Klimt - Google Art Project, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38827275

I joined my centering prayer group via zoom and spent the 20 minutes of silence taking in the views outside my window. A mallard landed in the pool, swam from one edge to the next, then hopped out and took off like a shot. A crane glided down to the lake's edge, then walked counterclockwise neck expanding and contracting with each step. As the sun rose, a tree portiere welcomed it through the horizon's threshold - a French fuchsia edging up, revealing an ever expanding disk; a cherry to top the pillowing clouds.

My hopes high for a well-paced day, I felt tired from too many overnight disruptions. Still, I packed my bag with running gear to take a few exploratory miles after work was done. By the time the sun set, I had spent the entire day inside and had little left: daylight, energy, desire. I wanted food - the more carbs and fat the better - and I wanted rest. 

J and I talked as I drove to the other side of town, and he reported a similar trajectory: tough night for sleep, feeling scattered throughout the day and entering into an evening spent. I hated being away from him - was the distance worth whatever we might gain? Could I coax relaxation out of his body, isometric hug him until his tank was full? Could my presence in our bed help him sleep more soundly, rest less fitfully? Is my agency as a healer in this world worth its salt if I do not first offer my gifts of healing to him? 

As I watched the mallard in the pool this morning, I sensed God watching with me - taking in the duck's experimentation, waiting to see what it would do next. I sensed God sitting and watching me - holding the night of too little sleep and my body begging for rest and suffering with me, noticing the struggle, cheering me on. I'd love to say I carried that through my day, but I didn't. Considering it now, I find gratitude, but my emotional connectivity at the moment keeps flipping the hour glass. 

And God is here, sitting with me and carrying on, carrying me - "Eh," "yeh", "Eh," "yeh." 

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Ephesians 3:18-21, NRSV

18 I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth 19 and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

20 Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, 21 to him be glory in the church and[a] in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Facing the Ceiling

I'm so ready for bed, everything in me is screaming out to be asleep right now. I wrote the title to "be funny," in the way I am not funny at all (and if you are scratching your head right now, welcome to my world.). 

Even so, I'm realizing to "face the ceiling" could be a descriptor of so much more than sleeping: I could be facing the glass ceiling. I could be coming to terms with my limitations, the height of my trajectory, the top of my pay range. . .Having taken a Pure Barre class tonight, I think of all the abdominal work we did while looking up. 

Chasing the tangent, I consider looking up into the sky during the day - the clouds forming some barrier between the land and the sun. Then at night, the perceived ceiling drops away with the setting sun, and the sky keeps reaching ever forward into deepening and deepening space. 

I'd call that revelation. We spend our days following a direction, thinking the parameters set with so much road ahead (and behind), with the blue sky above. Our living days consisting of these rules. Then night arrives - the road, sure and obvious before, now misshapen with shades of gray smudging the lines. The sky, self-contained and solid, shot through with lights stretching further and further out. Everything which was certain now appears wild and mysterious. Anything I thought real shape-shifts and more possibilities are left in its place. 

The Bible may say it like, "This is impossible with humankind, but with God all things are possible." 

Maybe the ceiling is part reality, but part figment of my imagination. Maybe I need to sleep on it. 

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Matthew 19: 16-26

16 Then someone came to him and said, “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?” 17 And he said to him, “Why do you ask me about what is good? There is one who is good. If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.” 18 He said to him, “Which ones?” And Jesus said, “You shall not murder. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not steal. You shall not bear false witness. 19 Honor your father and mother. Also, you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” 20 The young man said to him, “I have kept all these; what do I still lack?” 21 Jesus said to him, “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” 22 When the young man heard this word, he went away grieving, for he had many possessions.

23 Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. 24 Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” 25 When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astounded and said, “Then who can be saved?” 26 But Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.”

Photo credit here.

Facing East

 

Ukrainian Easter eggs decorated by New York City-based pysanka artist Sofika Zielyk

I really need to find another time of day to write these posts. Most nights, I enter into the blogging space somewhat tired and spent from the adventures of the day. I try grasping all the thoughts which have floated through my mind from the early morning "simple presence," to the drive into work listening to my latest audiobook, to the many interactions with the people in my workspace, to conversations with J, the run as the moon rose, finally settling onto the couch and then. . .this.

The vernal equinox takes place in about 50 minutes according to earthsky.org: the earth spinning and now tilting on its axis, pushing us in the Northern Hemisphere toward earlier mornings and later nights, encouraging growth to sprout from tree limbs and garden patches. It is the moment of *almost* equal day and night with the sun rising due East and setting due West. 

One woman wrote about Persephone as the patron goddess of this cycle of moving from "death" to "life." When I read her post, I remembered a poem I wrote in divinity school for "Pastors, Poets and the Kingdom of God" class. Persephone was the subject and the professor chided me for creating such an abstract poem - but he harped at me often about unvieling myself in some authentic way. He saw the cheery demeanor I used to navigate my world, and he knew no one was "that happy all the time." I was insulted at his reaction to the poem as I quite liked it, but he was spot on about the "gloss of cheer" I wore.

Persephone as an archetype encourages balance, though. Balance between the darling, gleeful rush of crocus, daffodil, redbud, cherry blossom and the flaming maple red and aspen gold of fall. Balance between giving birth and burying detritus  - between the rush of youth and the rhapsody of elders. As the goddess who descends to Hades (and the underworld) taking all the beauty and variety of the world with her, leaving the pall of white to cover the earth - then returns to Olympus  (and her mother) and the bounty of springtime and harvest ensues. 

This is the Earth's cycle, but it is also ours - living on the spectrum of polarities - at times closer to Hades, at others, Olympus. And if we are lucky, we live most of our time near the season which pleases us most. Which brings us back to Ecclesiastes and a "time for every season." 

I, for one, am glad it's spring.

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Ecclesiastes 3:18-22, NIV

18 I also said to myself, “As for humans, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals. 19 Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath[c]; humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless. 20 All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. 21 Who knows if the human spirit rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth?”

22 So I saw that there is nothing better for a person than to enjoy their work,because that is their lot. For who can bring them to see what will happen after them?

Facing West

Photo credit here.

The late afternoon mixed spring skies with winter winds. I considered walking from my hotel to the nearby shopping area, but thought better of it the longer I stood in the wind unpacking the car.  From my room's windows, gazebos frame the pool and a man-made lake lies just beyond, then houses beyond the lake. Ducks and geese floated atop the lake, and eventually, a young teenager explored the water's edge from his backyard. 

I grew reflective as the setting sun turns the sky butter yellow and sweet potato orange; as blushes of pink flush the clouds and shadows lengthen. Maybe the ending of a day of work gives my mind time to relax or maybe my soul grieves one more day gone or maybe the shock of color ignites my right brain, but I wondered, for the millionth (billionth?) time of my life if I am living the life I want to live. I used to say "the life I am supposed to be living," and in doing so, placed inappropriate amounts of stress on myself and those who dealt with my worried chattering about "how does one know they are on the 'right' path"? 

Often the worry mixed in the God component - was I praying the right way? asking the right question? getting still enough, for long enough, to hear enough of God? The consternation grew from the belief God had "A" plan (i.e. "ONE" plan) for my life, and it was up to me to find it. My current conundrum mirrors the solitariness of my youth - as if there is one way to live my life congruent with my life's ethos, pathos, and logos. I also maintain some implicit understanding that I must work (often hard) to figure out HOW to live life the way I "want" to live it. 

And when I say "life I want," I'm meaning living a life with enjoyable and fulfilling work, while being able to provide for my family, while also having time to be with J, my Dad, our families, the dog; to engage in dance and music; to enjoy art; to travel; to plant gardens; to bake; to create.

Someone shared a story from Barbara Brown Taylor not too long ago. BBT was trying to decide between two good offers for work (I think), and she spent a good amount of time praying to God, asking for direction about which way was the "right" way. Eventually, she felt she heard God say, "Pick one." 

Before I engaged in my last educational adventure, I sensed God saying something similar. Out of centering prayer, I recognized God to be an ever present companion, sanctifying life by being present in it. I could take action or not; choose to go in a direction which appealed to me or another, equally appealing direction. Any choice could be "God's choice" because God is here, with us.

Because I am a wandering soul, my perpetual question will likely be, "Is this the life I want to live? Or is there something else?" I suppose if the question comes up at all, the answer is likely "No, this is not the life you want to live. If it was, you wouldn't need to ask the question in the first place." 

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Psalm 103: 8-18

The Lord is merciful and gracious,
    slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
9 He will not always accuse,
    nor will he keep his anger forever.
10 He does not deal with us according to our sins
    nor repay us according to our iniquities.
11 For as the heavens are high above the earth,
    so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
12 as far as the east is from the west,
    so far he removes our transgressions from us.
13 As a father has compassion for his children,
    so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him.
14 For he knows how we were made;
    he remembers that we are dust.

15 As for mortals, their days are like grass;
    they flourish like a flower of the field;
16 for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
    and its place knows it no more.
17 But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting
    on those who fear him,
    and his righteousness to children’s children,
18 to those who keep his covenant
    and remember to do his commandments.

Feeling the Edge

I spent time with a college friend tonight catching up on threads of our lives we have not had opportunity to discuss since the beginning of the year. We talked about family, jobs, pets - the thorny problems, the unexpected pleasures and the confounding issues with childhood onset which ebb and flow in intensity. Neither of us sense we have the time to do all we want or need to do, and depending on the day, the fact proves defeating or simply inevitable. 

Boundaries (maybe limitations?) give me an opportunity for choice, though. If I encounter them reflectively, they encourage me to spend time doing what matters to me. If I find I cannot choose to do what matters to me, I again have a choice: take steps to get into a position to "choose my own adventure" or adjust what I can to incorporate more of what matters to me (what gives me life, if you will). 

A gift and frustration of middle age is the recognition of more limits, more boundaries - but maybe this means more choices, a narrowing of focus, a purifying of my goals. The problem remains my deep enjoyment of wanting to do everything. My more practical side tells me I can't do everything, but even considering all the possibilities enthralls me and juices the battery. I think it's genetic. 

Seemingly, I have a great uncle who spent his days in elementary school, atlas opened in his lap, pointing to all the places on its pages saying, "I want to go there and there and there." The story goes he had sailed the seven seas before his 20th birthday - he had explored the world as he wanted. I don't know, of course, if the other 40+ years of his life felt complete or fulfilling, but I imagine the desire to wander never left. I'm projecting, of course, because I'm guessing the wanderlust won't leave me. . . 

But the energy of youth will leave, and has to some degree - a boundary. 

Psychology says children with boundaries grow up to be more confident adults. Something about playing within a strong framework reinforces a sense of safety, maybe even a sense of mastery. Then as the child grows and boundaries broaden, the child masters more and more of his/her world finding a safe place to experiment within the limitations provided. 

We need limitations, it seems, in every phase of life.

Maybe Lent is a time of living into the limitations, giving us freedom to make mistakes within the loving boundaries God provides, but also allowing the limitations to help us discover what we need to release because we simply don't have room or time for it anymore as well as to help us choose what brings us to life.

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Psalm 16: 5-11, NRSV

5 The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
    you hold my lot.
6 The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    I have a goodly heritage.

7 I bless the Lord, who gives me counsel;
    in the night also my heart instructs me.
8 I keep the Lord always before me;
    because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.

9 Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices;
    my body also rests secure.
10 For you do not give me up to Sheol
    or let your faithful one see the Pit.

11 You show me the path of life.
    In your presence there is fullness of joy;
    in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Photo credits: Found on this site.

Listening

Photo credit: here.

I listened to birds squawk today, and as I listened I thought, "God even calls this 'good'." The cawing of sea gulls - "good." The cackle of crows - "good." The aggressive nature of cow birds - "good." The idea can expand, of course, to any and all parts of creation I, or anyone else, calls suspect, apprehensible, a nuisance: mosquitoes, raccoons, chipmunks, pythons, coyotes, deer, brown recluses, sharks, jellyfish - the list could be quite long. This goes for places, peoples, political regimes, cultures (micro and macro). God called it all, all of us, "good," if you take the first creation story at face value. I have a hard time accepting this, however, when the 4th welp rises from my skin within moments of venturing outside, or when my brother displays his penchant for desecrating his life. 

Of course it's not my issue, except if I come down with denque fever (a growing outbreak of the mosquito born virus is happening in Brazil right now); or a python swallows my dog; or the intoxicated man kills my daughter via vehicular homicide - then what do I do? How do I call the creation "good"? What theological gymnastics do I perform to make the equation creation = good actually work out? 

The only way I can (and get ready to roll your eyes) is creation + God = good. Because the only entity who is good is God, and God in us creates what good bits exist. As an old pastor of mine used to say, "We are shot through with sin, but we are justified through Christ: Just as if I'd done nothing wrong. Just as if I'd done everything right." How this applies to mosquitos, I'm not sure, but Paul talks about all of creation and birth pangs as we all move from our current state to our eschatologically complete one.

Maybe one day mosquitos will impart anti-aging serum into my resurrected body with each bite while the lion lays down with the lamb.

My other bird related musing came when I witnessed a sparrow feast on the fern-like growth of an ancient oak. "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows (Matthew 10:29-31)." I conflated this with "Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they (Matthew 6:26)?"

As I wrestle with options (and I am grateful to have them), the little sparrows teach me about trust, about freedom, about being valued and loved by God. The little bird whispers, "There is enough, you are enough. Quiet yourself and follow the movement of God within you and the movement of God outside of you." As I tell people who want to learn to listen, the first step is to actually listen, not be planning what you may say next. I find as I listen to God, I recognize how God listens to us (all of creation), which begins the "conversation" about abundance.

So be it.

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Matthew 6: 25-34

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink,[k] or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to your span of life?[l] 28 And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ 32 For it is the gentiles who seek all these things, and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But seek first the kingdom of God[m] and his[n]righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

34 “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

Consolations

Photo credit here (on Etsy).

J and I jogged this morning in one of my favorite ways: exploring. We took a new path, ran around a *possibly* abandoned retreat area and ended the run at a new breakfast spot we had wanted to try. At the retreat center, I ran the small labyrinth they had (a first), then took a moment to pray in the center before running back out. The eatery (breakfastery?) celebrated sisters and decorated walls with pictures of sisters who visited. We ambled back bellies full of eggs, beignets and coffee. The middle of the day kept us busy with our various responsibilities. 

We spent the evening around a small public fire pit and another couple ended up sitting with us. We heard tales of romance, heartache, resignation and dedication and shared a few of our own. Now, J is playing an Irish melody in drop D tuning, and I write. I love days which flow from one adventure to the next and our world expands while dreams dance on the horizon.

I find it difficult to enter into this kind of space as often as I would like. Taking a new path, having time to dawdle, sharing it with J nourishes me. These will be my consolations today.* The goal, according to Sleeping with Bread, is to incorporate more consolations into life, so a net sum of joy fills our days. The joy becomes the avenue of God's love and grace to us and, by proxy, those around us. 

The book's premise reminds me of when I lived in Berkeley and one of the graduate students at First Pres studied Russian Literature. She said while she thought her father would frown on her choice of study, he surprised her by saying, "We need more people in the world who love what they do. If what you love is Russian Literature, go for it." Her words refreshed me when she related them, and they still do in the recounting.

May you find your consolations filling your cup to overflowing.

*Don't know what I mean by consolation? I talk about it here.

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Luke 6: 32-38, NRSV

32 “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33 If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34 If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive payment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. 35 Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

37 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38 give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap, for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”