Starting Now

Tags

covenant, Genesis, holy season, Lent, path, rainbow, spring, teach, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, truth

Two things occur to me as I read the lectionary texts for this First Sunday of Lent. Initially, as the sky clears after a night of snow here, Genesis announces God’s promise of the covenant that never again shall all bodily creatures be destroyed by the waters of a flood. I muse that I haven’t seen a rainbow – that amazing sign of God’s covenant – for a very long time. It’s not that I haven’t looked, nor do I think God has had a change of mind, but it does make one wonder – in light of all the devastating floods this past year – if we are paying enough attention. Happily we now know the vastness of the world as well as the cooperation that has been manifested after each tragedy, allowing the restoration of stricken areas through generosity and teamwork.

Secondly, and most likely due to the slow pace of life in my home for the past two weeks because of the nasty flu bug, it seems as if Valentine’s Day/Ash Wednesday was much longer ago than half a week. When I read “First Sunday of Lent” this morning, therefore, on the US Bishops website, I react with a surprised: “What!? So…all the “Lent-ing” so far was just practice…preamble, maybe?” and I wonder if the “Holy Season” will drag along seemingly forever. But that might not be a bad thing, given my lack of preparedness so far! Maybe I’m being given a second chance to wake up, to shake off the lethargy of inaction and make something of these next several weeks.

So in the hope that spring awaits at the end, I resolve to pay more attention beginning today, as I pray with the psalmist: Your ways, O Lord, make known to me; teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God, my Savior!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reminding God

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care, confidence, failure, God, goodness, humble heart, lost, love, path, permission, psalm 25, surrender, teach, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, trust, wandering

Psalm 25 is clearly one in which we can see that the psalmist has an ongoing relationship with God. This morning, in an alternative translation of the psalm, I got the notion that God needed reminding of the responsibility of mutuality in that relationship. The lectionary only gives verses 4-8 for our consideration but I want to introduce the text with verse one because it made me smile (as in a parent saying to children who are acting up in some way: “Don’t make me come up there…”). The psalmist begins by reminding God: To you I surrender up my soul, O God. In you I place my deepest trust. May I not regret this wanton act of love; may it never be defeated by some foe.

Perhaps I’m misinterpreting the tone of the psalmist. It may be desire rather than expectation that is being expressed, but I rather like the thought that one might have the confidence that gives permission for such presumption in relationship with God. However you interpret the following verses, the prayer seems a good one for today.

Lead me out upon the path of highest truth that I may learn your wisdom, Lord my God, my saving help day after day. Remember all you’ve ever been to us; from ancient times till now we’ve known your constant care. Remember me, O God, and forget the times when in my youth I failed you. In your great goodness put all this behind, and show the path again to me, even when I’m lost and wandering far away. For you are ever just and fair, you guide all those of humble heart and teach the gentle ones your ways.

 

 

 

 

 

Moving Toward…

Tags

Advent, awake, awareness, Christmas, darkness, heart, Isaiah, joy, path, preparation, prophet, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Today begins the season of Advent for Christians. The word itself is composed of the verb to come and the preposition meaning to. The prophet Isaiah speaks in the first reading for liturgy of his vision of all nations streaming toward the mountain of the Lord (IS 2:1-5) to be instructed in God’s ways and to learn to walk on God’s paths, beating their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks, never again to train for war. In all that follows, we are urged to wake up in order to be ready to join in that day when God’s kingdom will appear. St. Paul tells us that we know what time it is; we know the need to wake up and “throw off the works of darkness,” conducting ourselves “properly as in the day.” (ROM 13:11-14) Matthew isn’t so sure about our awareness. He says that we don’t know the day that the Lord will come. “Therefore”, he says, “stay awake!”(MT 24:37-44)

To us, Advent is the time of waiting – of coming toward Christmas. We know when it’s coming; we’ve been told for awhile now how many shopping days remain before it arrives and millions of people have been very busy over the past few days feverishly preparing by spending billions, yes billions, of dollars to be ready for the big event. I apologize if I seem jaded about it all, but it becomes clearer and clearer to me as I age that the best gifts for Christmas are those of the heart, not the pocketbook. While it is true that the giving of material gifts to our loved ones can be a precious moment of exchange and meaning, it seems necessary as well to find a balance in our preparation. It is, after all, the Christ event, the Incarnation, that is the reason for all our preparation.

Today as I reflect on the readings and the world in which we now live, the questions that arise for me are the following. What do I hope we are “coming to” personally and corporately in our home, our country, our Church and our world? What am I doing to move toward the reign of God that Jesus came to reveal? Am I awake to what is really happening? Am I awake to what I am really contributing – or not? How best can I prepare for Christmas, internally and externally? Am I honestly ready for my daily prayer to be, “Come, Lord Jesus!” so that I will recognize and truly celebrate the gifts of Christmas when it dawns?

May our preparation be serious and joyful in the knowledge of what is possible for us – inside and out.

 

 

 

 

 

Morning Light

Tags

Annie Dillard, light, path, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

Just a sentence this morning as the slim line of magenta on top of my hill promises that the sun will indeed rise here today. It is all I have and important to remember each and every hour of this day: I cannot cause light. The most I can do is to put myself in the path of its beam. (Annie Dillard)

 

 

 

 

 

The Right Road

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alone, desire to please, God, Kathleen Deignan, Lord, lost, no fear, path, road, the shadow of death, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Thomas Merton, trust, your will

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”

~ Thomas Merton
(from Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours by Kathleen Deignan)

Singing A New Song

Tags

courage, disasters, distress, injury, path, psalm 116, return to the Lord, sorrow, strength, struggle, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, trust in the Lord

This morning’s selection from Psalm 116 sounds like a continuation of Psalm 84 from yesterday. It started with verse 12: “How shall I make a return to the Lord for all the good God has done for me?” (as I walked the path of life). As I reflected on that line and the parenthetical implication of what the psalmist was talking about, I was concerned about offering it as a thought for the day because it sounded as if the “path” was an easy one. I thought of all the people who have struggled mightily in life. Images came to mind of all the natural disasters in this country this year and of “wounded warriors” interviewed while doing physical therapy. The line sounded a bit presumptuous of the psalmist (and even myself in offering it). But then I went back and read the earlier verses, those not printed in this morning’s reading, and here is what I found:

“The cords of death entangled me, the anguish of the grave came over me; I was overcome by distress and sorrow… I trusted in the Lord when I said, ‘I am greatly afflicted’. In my alarm I said, ‘Everyone is a liar.'”

So the psalm doesn’t tell of an easy life for which one thanks God. It reflects the TRUST of those who are able (like the survivors of tornadoes and forest fires or flash floods – and even those learning to live without a limb lost in battle) to pick up and go on, praising God for the life that is still theirs.

So this morning I offer the question of how to make a return to God for all the good in my life. And even if you have to dig deep, perhaps you might do so also, looking at how you found the courage and strength to go on. Can you offer it all to God in thanks?