Upon entering the room, the display of rainbow-like bursts on one of the walls, captured my attention. Looking back now though, I see more clearly. Connections all around. The shadow once shed, takes on a new face. Taking up and letting go. To shed and re-shed from beginning to end. Tied together throughout by the image of God, and all eternally beloved. It’s in the air. Life and breath, width and depth. With God, it’s Universal.
The veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom. – Mark 15:38
Stepping out and looking up, the night time sky awakens me. Alongside the darkness, the clouds, visible above and behind the tree tops, create a contrast that draws me in. Between them and the sky that is speckled with the light of stars from far away, the scene is even more compelling. There are so many dimensions, and on this night, as opposed to one where the clouds leave no room for the stars, all seem to bring something to the picture in a way that works together and makes it whole.
So much of what’s good and honorable in the world, is not unlike this scene. That is, the parts not only brought together, but also taking care to make room at the table, and in our hearts, for each other. Coming back to the night time sky on this evening, taking in its different parts once more, I imagine each of them embodying, “Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will” (Psalm 40). For although we are different, we are very much the same. And, our well-being and the picture that we make is collective—always tied together.
As Martin Luther King, Jr. Day approaches, thank you Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. for standing up and speaking out, for your words and the actions that flowed with them, and most of all, for the spirit with which you shared them with the world.
“In a real sense all life is inter-related. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be… This is the inter-related structure of reality.” – Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
In saying goodbye to 2020, it can be all too easy to envision the year packed away, stuffed in a trunk or case with the words “CAUTION! DO NOT OPEN!” stamped in bold, red print across the top and sides. Yet, like all the years before it, 2020, along with any wisdom it contained, is added to the steps along the way. Now, and always, it is part of who we are and who we will become.
Entering into the year 2021, the journey continues. Like years gone by, it is step by step into all that is known and, at the same time, into all that is unknown. This New Year begins with a solemn tone. There is sadness over the depth of loss, vast… across many areas, and experienced by so many around the world. There is gratitude for blessings… Love expressed by thoughtful, caring words and actions of so many hearts around the world. Then, there is hope, summoning its all, rising up from the memories it strings together, and bringing unity as it strengthens and fortifies the soul for all that lies ahead.
May this New Year be anchored, like no other, in the hope that is God, and may each and every soul join together and live as they truly are… beloved.
We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage. – Mt 2:2
In a couple of days, it will be the shortest day of the year for some people and the longest day of the year for others. On December 21st, in the Northern Hemisphere it will be the Winter Solstice and daylight hours will be fewer than any other day in the year, and at the same time, in the Southern Hemisphere, it will be the Summer Solstice and daylight hours will be greater than any other day in the year. Other than in a geography class, long and far ago, I cannot say that I have ever really thought much about that prior to today. Yet, as I do, I think about how remarkable it is that no matter where one stands, and no matter how experiences may vary, far and wide, the promise is forever, and the parts, although they matter… they are never greater than the Whole.
The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. “Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her. – Luke 1:26-38
Today is November 21, 2020. It is the 326th day of the year and by day’s end we will be 88.8% of the way toward 2021. For now though, we’re stuck, so to speak, in a leap year. And boy, what a leap it has been!
Looking at the happenings around the world, it seems as if gravity has lost its grip. Collisions are abound! And often with it, sensibility and all that used to be reliable in at least some way, has all but disappeared. These days, unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic is raging, but also unfortunately, it is not the only thing raging.
At a time when it can be easy to become bogged down by all that seems wrong in the world, where I live, we will be celebrating Thanksgiving this coming Thursday. However, prior to that, tomorrow is the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.
How different the world could be, if He were all the rage!
Imagine, words and actions that go beyond the current “rule” of one. Imagine, words and actions that are all about the One, and only One—God.
Thankfully, we literally have the best example ever. So in these strange days that seem to keep getting stranger, look to the Word that is timeless. Look and see the Good Shepherd, the One who not only makes claims, but also backs them up, and simply shows us, one and all, the Way.
When we focus on doing the good we can do, the world, no matter how chaotic it may seem, becomes a better, brighter place, one person at a time.
Jesus said to his disciples: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’ And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.’ Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’ Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’ He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’ And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.” – Matthew 25:31-46
Feeling hopeful, I am lifted up by the soothing breeze, and welcomed by the warmth of the sun. I am drawn to the light stretching out from it, as if reaching out to everyone and all around the globe. Still, I wait, as many do. So much of life these days seems to be more about waiting, and then waiting even more. I can’t help but think, this much waiting is such a tall order, compared to the short and quick of yesteryear.
Yet, day in and day out, I wait. We all wait. Maybe we’ve been waiting all along. Maybe we wait because we’ve gotten it all wrong.
Then there’s also the companion of waiting. As each moment in waiting silently builds upon the next, some grow closer together and others drift further apart. Yet, despite the weight of waiting, and the rush against the quiet, when willing, the Light above connects us to the Breath that’s deep within.
One with one another. Created in God’s image. One with one and all. The cry of God is deafening, when will we heed the call?
“Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.” – John 15:4
John Muir shared the thought that in every walk with nature, one receives far more than one seeks. Pausing to look at some of the changing leaves and noticing the contrast between them and those already on the ground, I came across another scene. A chipmunk, also pausing, long enough to possibly be considered a companion in an otherwise seemingly empty stretch of woods. A brief, but amusing and uplifting experience, perhaps captured best, for both creatures on this day, in the words of another naturalist, Henry David Thoreau, who wrote, “I took a walk in the woods and came out taller than the trees.”
Reading chapter 22 in the Gospel according to Matthew, the section that contains verses 15-22 starts with, “Then the Pharisees went off and plotted…” The words and the image they conjure, are such a stark contrast to that of my experience in nature, earlier in the day. What a difference a spirit of inclusion, acceptance, respect, and mutual existence might have made back then. What a difference it might make now.
Nature is all around us, and we are part of it. Yet, all this time gone by, still, we fight it. All these years later, still, we resist joining together. Perhaps, one by one, we might learn to be companions to each other, and the plotting will end. Then, maybe… we might see, how foolish we have been.
If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence, we could rise up rooted like trees. – Rainer Maria Rilke
The Pharisees went off and plotted how they might entrap Jesus in speech. They sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. And you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion, for you do not regard a person’s status. Tell us, then, what is your opinion: Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” Knowing their malice, Jesus said, “Why are you testing me, you hypocrites? Show me the coin that pays the census tax.” Then they handed him the Roman coin. He said to them, “Whose image is this and whose inscription?” They replied, “Caesar’s.” At that he said to them, “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” – Matthew 22:15-22
Yesterday morning, I was thinking about how up until a few weeks ago, it had been quite some time since I found myself in a position where it was mostly better and necessary for me to stay home than to go out. I found myself remembering days when my children were not in school yet, or days when they were unexpectedly home from school. There was one day in particular that came to mind. I remember it so vividly.
It was a sunny, slightly breezy spring day. I was noticing the color of the sky and feeling the warmth of the sun and the gentle blowing of the wind on my face as I walked along the walkway toward the parking lot where my car was parked. I had just come around the side of a building, and as I did, I saw a familiar face. We exchanged a smile and greeting, and then had a brief conversation.
In the course of sharing how nice it was to start the day, quietly, being where we were, I mentioned feeling frustrated that sometimes, due to the unforeseen and unexpected, I could not be there. Then, I’ll never forget the way, Joe, the older gentleman I was speaking with responded. His words were so comforting and enlightening as he shared the belief that in the sacrifice of Communion to answer the call of motherhood, or any call in the service of others, was in fact, also the reception of Communion. Since that bright and sunny day, not being able to go somewhere I wanted to go or do something I wanted to do has been less frustrating. Now, as I think about my late friend’s words, it is so much easier to open my hands, and let go.
All we ever really hold in the palm of our hands, is our will. And that, is always best when we turn it over to God. Only then, are we truly free. Only then, do we arise.
Jesus advanced a little and fell prostrate in prayer, saying, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.” – Matthew 26:39
In the garden of our Savior, no flower grows unseen;
His kindness rains like water on every humble seed.
No simple act of mercy escapes His watchful eye —
for there is One who loves me: His hand is over mine.
In the kingdom of the heavens, no suff’ring is unknown;
each tear that falls is holy, each breaking heart a throne.
There is a song of beauty on ev’ry weeping eye —
for there is One who loves me: His heart, it breaks with mine.
Oh, the deeds forgotten; oh, the works unseen,
every drink of water flowing graciously,
every tender mercy, You’re making glorious.
This You have asked us: do little things with great love,
little things with great love.
At the table of our Savior, no mouth will go unfed;
His children in the shadows stream in and raise their heads.
Oh give us ears to hear them and give us eyes that see —
for there is One who loves them: I am His hands and feet.
Over the past few days, gusts of wind have relieved the trees of so many of their leaves. Yet there remains a branch, looking more like a vine, swaying in the wind, holding tight onto its leaves. While the branch seems unremarkable, lacking in the kind of color that captures one’s eye, the leaves are yellow, bringing brightness and light to an otherwise dreary backdrop.
As the wind carries on, and various other leaves fall from the trees, blown every which way, the branch and its yellow leaves remain together. No matter how hard the wind seems to try to strip them away, or apart from each other, through periods of rain and strong winds, it is not happening. They seem determined to stick together as they weather the storm, perhaps just as they did before it arrived. It is as if this branch and its heart-shaped leaves are thoroughly convinced and committed to one another, regardless of all that is, and has been, swirling around them, knowing that, come what may, Love that is true always prevails.
Before the Lord the whole universe is as a grain from a balance or a drop of morning dew come down upon the earth. But you have mercy on all, because you can do all things; and you overlook people’s sins that they may repent. For you love all things that are and loathe nothing that you have made; for what you hated, you would not have fashioned. And how could a thing remain, unless you willed it; or be preserved, had it not been called forth by you? But you spare all things, because they are yours, O Lord and lover of souls, for your imperishable spirit is in all things! Therefore you rebuke offenders little by little, warn them and remind them of the sins they are committing, that they may abandon their wickedness and believe in you, O Lord!
At the beginning of the week, as I looked out the window and scanned the back yard, I spotted a doe, yes, “a dear, a female deer,” at the edge of the grass path that leads to the woods. Although tempted to step away to get my camera to try to capture the moment, instead I stayed and watched. For quite some time the doe just stood there in its peaceful, patient way, nibbling at the leaves of a branch. Every so often it lifted its head to glance all around, surveying and taking in the environment with its big, beautiful, pensive eyes. Then, in what seemed like a flash, it was gone, heading off deeper into the woods.
Thinking about this experience, I am struck by the faith that is needed to go into, or to return to, the wilderness. Yet, it is this very same faith that calls creation to the place that is less familiar, less comfortable, or perhaps altogether unknown. Even more, it is the same faith that assures us, moving us toward peace and patience, and helping us to know, we are never alone.
True faith awakens and arises us, calling us closer to the edge, and whispering: Come. Come deeper into the mystery that is God.
Long before the mountains came to be
and the land and sea and stars of the night,
through the endless seasons of all time,
you have always been,
you will always be.
In ev’ry age, O God,
you have been our refuge.
In ev’ry age, O God,
you have been our hope.
Teach us to make use of the time we have.
Teach us to be patient even as we wait.
Teach us to embrace our ev’ry joy and pain.
To sleep peacefully,
and to rise up strong.
In ev’ry age, O God,
you have been our refuge.
In ev’ry age, O God,
you have been our hope.
HopeThatFloats 
You must be logged in to post a comment.