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Celtic Benediction, harmony, J. Philip Newell, prayer, spring, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
As we keep stretching toward the spring with all the beauty of nature, we hold on just a little longer, satisfied (as much as possible) with the tiny sprigs of green—the daffodils—that cling to the the side of the house where they can be warm enough to push up through the ground. I peek out each day measuring their progress by inches and cheering them for their willingness to stay the course. And I thank God for any sign of progress that strengthens my hope in nature and humanity. And so I pray:
That you have placed a harmony of lights in the heavens that night is followed by day and the glowing of the moon by the glistening of the sun, thanks be to you, O God. That you have placed a harmony of lights in my soul that there is a gentleness and firmness of strength, intuitive knowing and enlightened reasoning, thanks be to you. Let me be so sure of your laws of harmony in all things that I seek it in my own depths and in knowing it in my inner life yearn for it in the torn relationships my world, man and woman, black and white, sun and moon in a harmony of movement. (J. Philip Newell, Celtic Benediction, p. 46)
Since our Sophia Center Advisory Board meeting on Tuesday, I have been drawn back several times to thoughts of our future and about the best ways to help people engage in consideration of their spiritual lives. It seems less important these days to dream of large events with nationally known speakers – my fondest hope at our inception. What we have experienced as more useful is the value of deep conversation and building trust in the small groups that find meaning in the exchange of ideas. (Not that I’ve given up hope of major events, of course…) We will continue to seek input for programs and events, of course, and welcome any suggestions.
Often these days I have conversations with others about the necessity of living in the present moment and doing our best to carve out some silence on a regular basis. This is not a new concept. I think of my first years in the convent when we spent the major part of every day in silence and wonder about how different life would be for me today if the Second Vatican Council had not achieved an aggiornamento (updating) that clarified the differences in monasticism and apostolic religious life. In addition to the understanding of the differences, however, there remains significant overlap in the various forms of such a call and the element of silence in each cannot be overstated.
This morning I am feeling a desire to take life one moment at a time, conscious as I go through the day of all the people near and far who do not have the luxury of heated houses and blanketed beds in which they may choose to hunker down to wait out winter’s extreme behavior. This dangerous moment is deceptive in my neighborhood because the sun is streaming in and the sky is blue, whereas in many places the wind has caused storm surges from the beaches and lake effect snow measured in feet rather than inches to warn of possible catastrophe. My only warning of frostbite is looking out my bedroom window to see the wild dancing of the trees. Somehow this moment seems akin to the world situation where on some days there seems to be danger everywhere.
Here’s a short “word” for the day, a reminder we might all take to heart in these troubled days in our world.
The weekend just past was for me a time of great blessings. On Friday we welcomed a group of people – mostly new to us – who came for a workshop offered by our friend, Brigitte, here at our home. I met one of our guests, Patty, at the bus station. Patty lives in Manhattan and as we fell into easy conversation, I began to see our small town through her big city eyes. She was very interested in everything. From all reports, everyone at the workshop came and/or left very happy at all they found here. I was on the road, however, by 9:00 Saturday morning.
The Sophia Center for Spirituality 