I love the psalms that speak of the natural world doing what we think is reserved to humans. It’s easy to see the trees swaying and to interpret the movement as a dance; why not imagine more participation of the earth that was made long before humankind? Here’s the last part of today’s lectionary psalm (PS 98) as expressed by Lynn Bauman. I highlighted the most meaningful part for me. See what you can see.
Praise God till earth itself becomes a song, till seas and waters flow and waves begin to dance with land and all the peoples sing. Let every river lift its hands to clap in time, while hills and valleys join in song to offer hospitality to the Holy One, who comes to right our every wrong. This God will weigh the worth of everything that was, and is, and ever shall be, so mercy can be known in full, and justice here be balanced with compassion. (Ancient Songs Sung Anew, p. 247)
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to go back in time and live in a simpler world with fewer people, a world where Jesus could say to his chosen Twelve: “Take nothing for the journey, neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, nor money, and let no one take a second tunic.” (One would probably want the power and authority Jesus gave to them over demons and to cure diseases, however, to keep them safe along the way as they preached the word of God.) (LK 9:1-6) When I left home yesterday to come to a meeting 135 miles away, I made sure I had my driver’s license, money, credit card in case of emergency, cell phone, and the food that one of the sisters had bought me at the grocery store for my lunch. Oh, yes, and the car that would get me here in about two and a half hours! Times have certainly changed! The world turns faster, the culture much more complicated – virtually nothing is the same!
Every two weeks on Wednesday I meet with two sections (afternoon and evening) of a book study group. We have come to be known among ourselves as NOW (No Ordinary Women) after the title of our first great read, No Ordinary Time, by Jan Phillips. These gatherings have become an oasis of camaraderie and spiritual deepening for all of us, I believe, and yesterday was no exception. Almost at the end of Fully Awake and Truly Alive: Spiritual Practices to Nurture Your Soul by Rev. Jane E. Vennard, we considered the practices of Hospitality and Service. The beauty of this book is found in its practicality. One does not need to go looking to do something extraordinary but rather to look into everyday choices and activities familiar to us for our on-going spiritual growth. Some of the suggestions are simply a matter of attitudinal shifts.
There is much to say about St. Benedict, whose feast is today, known the world over as the man who brought monasticism to the western world. Although Benedict lived 1,500 years ago his influence is still felt and one might say is being proliferated more broadly than ever before because of a movement called “monasteries without walls.” Lay people who are interested in deepening their spiritual life often turn to The Rule of St. Benedict for guidance and a way to live his principles in secular society.
I was always envious of people who could quote Scripture with chapter and verse. I had my favorite passages – most of them short, like “God is Love” – but was usually only vaguely aware of where to find them in the Bible. The exception was Romans 12:12 (most likely because of the double 12) that reminded me to “base your happiness on your hope in Christ.”
This morning in a commentary on Psalm 98 I read an evocative sentence followed by a question worthy of pondering. It suggested that human beings need to offer an invitation to God and interior space for God to be, and then asked: Have you ever sensed that you could offer a place inside of your being as a dwelling place for the divine, or that your whole being could be God’s “temple” as it is often put in the tradition?
Late yesterday I arrived home from my 5-day retreat at Pendle Hill, near Philadelphia, a gloriously peaceful place saturated with the beauty of nature and the prayer of Quakers since 1930. The theme developed over the days for the 60 participants – many Quakers and those others of us from several different Christian traditions – was Our Life Is Love. I went to the retreat because it was being led by Cynthia Bourgeault who has for over a decade been a bright light on my spiritual path. Cynthia was being assisted (I thought) by two women: a composer of chant-songs, Paulette Meier, and a teacher of the Quaker tradition, Marcelle Martin. Contrary to my impression from the retreat flyer, these three women presented a seamless experience of the beauty and depth of Quakerism that can also be found at the heart of mainstream Christianity. It was a priceless gift of camaraderie, shared prayer and hospitality that I will treasure going forward.
A page from Michael Casey’s book Fully Human Fully Divine gave me pause this morning. After a “short night” when sleep evaded me until about 1:30am, I needed some encouragement and it seems I have found it. Perhaps it might set the course for someone else today as well. I’m a little late in “coming to the table” that Casey offers as I’ve already had one cup of coffee, but it’s better late than never for me today. What about you?