I love Psalm 8, the lectionary gift of today. I know I often say, “That’s one of my favorites!” and really mean it, but this one is really special to me, my most favorite of all. Just listen to these few lines. Repeat them aloud:
Lord, our God, how wonderful your name in all the earth! When I behold your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars which you set in place—who are we that you should be mindful of us, that you should care for us? Yet you have made us little less than the angels and crowned us with glory and honor…
If you’ve ever looked out on a star-studded sky or watched a rainbow appear after rain…if you’ve ever seen a field of sunflowers turning toward the sun or smelled a rose in her fullness, you will understand my bow to beauty. If you have watched from a screened-in porch the power of a storm and heard it announce itself in peals of thunder, counting the seconds between it and the lightning to determine your distance from the eye of the storm, you will feel the exhilaration of nature’s power…or if you have stood ankle deep in the ocean or on the edge of a placid lake at sunset, you will know the peace that overtakes you. If you lean down to study an inch worm or watch a grasshopper jump, you may have been able to share a smile with God who is delighting in the creation much more than you, yourself. And then there is the possibility of looking into the eyes of someone who loves you and whom you love, finding there the wonder and deep meaning of the word “love.” Then you may be grateful as I always am when this psalm shows up in prayer, expressing the immensity of the Creator’s love, the One who plays in joy at the amazing diversity of the creation that is ours and offering it to us as gift.
Today Christians mark the Solemnity of the Holy Trinity. Having searched for something erudite but understandable to say about this feast that speaks of an incomprehensible truth, I will say only what I have found to be helpful in the description (not to say definition) of the Trinitarian God, *the Three-in-One, *the Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier, *the First Cause who manifested this and every other universe, who became incarnate as a human being to teach us how to live and die, and who finally left but remains in Spirit to guide our walk through this world.
The second of the “O” Antiphons (see yesterday’s post) harks back all the way to Moses and the giving of the covenant on Mount Sinai. The Hebrew word Adonai means Lord or Master and is used to signify sovereignty. It is difficult for us to conceive of that concept for God as it is used in the culture of Old Testament times, especially as we are considering the coming of Christ as the human Jesus. If, however, we think of God as Creator of the universe, willing and able to manifest in whatever way will speak to humanity for good in any time and culture, it is a powerful statement. Below are three translations of the antiphon. Consider each as the work of the “Master of the Universe” and see if they are fitting as preparation in Judeo-Christian history for the fulfillment of what we know as the “Christ event.”
Although Saturday can be a day to catch up on all sorts of mundane tasks and chores, occasionally I savor the opportunity for a bit of leisurely delving into reflection on something found in one of the many alluring books on my shelves. This morning I returned to Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours, noting that I had not visited with him – or mentioned him here – for quite some time. Rather than quotes from his various texts, Saturday’s entries in Kathleen Deignan’s book of Merton’s writings are all parts of his amazing prose poem, Hagia Sophia (Holy Wisdom).
Paul was certainly waxing poetic to the people of Athens in today’s text, my favorite from the Acts of the Apostles (17:15, 22-18:1). He actually sounds like the psalmist, proclaiming that the God who made the world and all that is in it, the Lord of heaven and earth…gives to everyone life and breath and everything. This God, Paul says, fixed the ordered seasons and the boundaries of their regions, so that people might seek God, even perhaps grope for and find God, though indeed God is not far from any one of us. In God we live and move and have our being.
The suggestion of a commentary on Psalm 96, subtitled by author Lynn Bauman A Song Welcoming the Holy One, is that readers experiment with singing rather than saying it because singing is a “vehicle for communication with God.” While this is the rightful presentation of psalms in liturgy, I don’t often think of it as a mode of private prayer. I just tried it – in the privacy of my own room, of course – and the result was less than stellar. I have to admit, however, that I didn’t prepare; I just sang it “cold” without thought of the meaning, phrasing, timing or cadence. (Hmmm…that sounds as if I have some idea of musicality. Don’t be fooled!) My attempt was quite timid, but I must say it had the potential to open the words to me in a more vibrant way than if I had spoken the text. Perhaps I’ll give it another try. Should you be moved to join me from afar, here are the words I was tentatively offering as morning praise to the Creator of the universe.
I have little to add today to all the wise and uplifting things that have been said about the word thanks or the action of giving thanks. Each of us has our own reasons for gratitude and ways of expressing it. If we say, as I often do, that right relationship is a foundational concept for acting in this world and that the concept extends not only to humans but to all creation and to the Creator as well, then today ought to be a continuous conversation of gratitude as we recognize the blessings that we have given and received.
I found a lovely translation of the psalm for the day in Nan Merrill’s book, Psalms for Praying. The lectionary verses speak very well, I think, to the relationship between the Creator of the universe and God’s stewards – us. I offer it as a thought for the day and bow in humility at God’s generosity even as I am reminded of our responsibility for our Mother Earth.
The Sophia Center for Spirituality 