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fortress, kickstart, Lord, praise, prayer, refuge, rock, salvation, stength, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
Some mornings there is no reason for the joy or distress we feel upon waking up to the day. Nothing on the calendar is more than a mild challenge, no ache is greater than the normal twinge of aging, no residuals of a delightful or disturbing dream can be named. Some of us do, however, act as the weather directs: sunny or gray depending…
It’s good to have a few “fall-back” kickstarts just in case we need something to get going. Prayer helps, and certain quick reminders from the psalms do just fine most days. Today provides one such example. I recommend saying it aloud and then keeping it written in a convenient place for any gloomy day.
I love you, O Lord, my strength, O Lord, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer. My God, my rock of refuge, my shield, the horn of my salvation, my stronghold! Praised be the Lord, I exclaim, and I am safe from my enemies.
I believe that I understand at this moment what Thomas Merton wrote at dawn on a day a half-century ago about waking up. It is totally silent inside my house; everyone is sleeping still or again. (The coffee is made so someone was up before sunrise.) Outside is a different story. The mourning doves punctuate the conversation that is constant and loud – some would say cacophonous – among all the other birds large and small. And through it all the rooster reigns, splitting the silence with a voice that carries to the river and back again calling us all to wakefulness. “It is like the first morning of the world,” Merton writes, “when Adam, at the sweet voice of Wisdom, awoke from nonentity and knew her…” Only in silence, I think, is it possible to have such an experience. And so I will dress and go into the day, carrying with me the pure sounds of praise in the natural world, hoping to know the wakefulness that is available to me this day.
Today’s lectionary offers us the shortest of psalms for response to the first reading. Ancient Songs Sung Anew gives a good idea for a spiritual practice using this text, saying that since it is one of the most universal in its meaning, “it could rightly be said by almost any person from any nation on earth.” Here’s the psalm, the challenge and the rest of the commentary.
Sometimes virtual travel is almost as good as being there. So it was last evening when a large rowdy band of Christians walked up a hill in Stonington, Maine and was transported from St. Mary’s Church to the chapel at Taizé, France to worship God in song. Not unlike Stonington, Taizé is a tiny town with a stable population of just under 200 people. in the summer, however, over 100,000 people, most of them young pilgrims, descend on Taizé to sing and serve in what becomes for them a spiritual homecoming.
Sometimes when life feels very complicated I like to find some simplicity somewhere. This morning, since light had already arrived at this task before I did, I looked up and saw that my prayer plant had found a way to untangle herself from the tight configuration her leaves had been living in since I transplanted her a few weeks ago. She seemed happy to spread her arms in praise. That moment was enough to call me to do the same.
I come late to this task this morning. Perhaps it was the cold that kept me sleeping until the shocking hour of just before eight o’clock! The temperature continues to hover around zero degrees and warnings of frostbite because of wind still make the national news. I feel rather stuck here in my chair with the only thought being that of the impending turn of the calendar. Today is not the last day of the year; that reality dawns with tomorrow but seems all around me now in shadow. Psalm 96 calls me to praise but I feel like a person on a diving board who isn’t sure of how to swim in the water that awaits me.
Every once in awhile I ask myself if writing this blog is still worth the time and energy it takes to do it. At those times – and in between as well – I look at the statistics. Yes, I can tell how many people read what I write each day and once in awhile someone leaves a comment about what s/he has read. In addition, there is a way to ascertain where readers live – by country. That is the most amazing part of this endeavor as it shows me the reach of the “worldwide web.” Who would have thought that someone in Norway and/or Azerbaijan would be reading my simple morning musings! I generally remain unfazed by all of this information but occasionally realize I am worrying when the bar graph shows a dip or the number on the blog page says someone stopped “following.” Those are the moments when I usually hear gratitude from someone – especially someone I don’t know – who leaves a supportive comment and I breathe a sigh of relief.
When I was teaching school, this used to be an important day for me as it still is for many folks. The Wednesday after Labor Day sees our young people returning to school after their long summer vacation. It isn’t the same everywhere in our country. In some places, school has been in session for weeks but in those places dismissal for the summer also happens earlier, primarily because of the heat, I think. Right now it seems that some young people will not return to their schools at all this year; the schools are no longer habitable because of Hurricane Harvey. What will become of them, I wonder, for many reasons. Some will likely be home-schooled. Some may be shuttled to other locations. That happened in my own town after a flood in 2011. A Catholic parish school that had been closed and used for other parish functions was given back its identity for two years while a new school was built. Will the youth of Texas be so lucky as to find schooling together with their familiars?